Short Story
Beneath the Raven’s Wings
The Raven’s Kiss The first time I saw her, she was standing at the edge of the Wood, where the mist curled like phantom fingers around the ancient oaks. Her gown was the color of a moonless night, her lips darker than spilled wine. She did not speak—only smiled, and in that smile, I felt the weight of centuries.
By The Lost Books - "Libri Perditi"about a year ago in Fiction
The Snake's promise
A snake is always a snake.. Once upon a time, there was a rabbit hole that was a lovely place to live. The partridges crouched in their corners. And the rabbits huddled fearfully in the corners. No guest like this had ever entered their door. But the snake said, in a soft, quiet voice.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Phinehas Shaw. Top Story - May 2025.
Here, before us, is Phinehas Shaw, Brother, Father, Son, Uncle, Cousin, and friend to so very, very many. As I look out into the crowd, I can truly see how well Phinehas was loved or at least known. I must say, I’ve never seen a crowd this large gathered together to see just one person. I’m impressed. I didn’t think that this many people could fit inside the building.
By David E. Perryabout a year ago in Fiction
The Night Everything Changed
A short story by a 16-year-old girl Mom....Mom... please open the door....[That's what my mother said to my foster mother. Since Kiriamma is alone at home, I will go to Kiriamma's house to sleep at night....(In this story, I am Sudu)..]
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Glowworms Myth
Once upon a time, deep within the earth where the sun's light never shines, there lived a clan of magical creatures known as the Glowworms. These delicate and luminescent creatures lived in a network of caves, their glowing bodies casting a gentle, eerie light across the darkness.
By Makayla Smytheabout a year ago in Fiction
The Tracks
Why don't trains travel on me anymore? I know there are weeds from time to time on my rails, but won't the wheels on the trains cut the weeds away? I swear I can hear many trains, but why don't they travel on me now? Too many questions and no answers for me.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
The Church by the Road. Content Warning.
This story is an encounter that I myself lived through. This is a story from somewhere in Mabima. I shall not say what the village was. There is a big Christian church near where I am referring to. It is very beautiful. Their yard is there.'' It is on the right in the direction we are travelling. Today's tale is about this church and the graveyard. So one day I'm walking home after school. It was about 8:00 pm. Once out of the bus, the place I referred to was about 100 meters from there.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Summer Time Ago
D.B.Townsend We park off the roadway near the old house where Aunt Hannah and Grandma Bradley grew up. The home had been remodeled years ago, yet the old board and bat portion is still evident through a cluster of maple and elm trees grown from saplings when they were kids, now standing mature and brushing close to the second-story windows. Their parents had bought the land and built the home in the mid-1800s. Although the addition is near twice the size of the original structure, you can see clear evidence of the original house amidst the upgrades. I had taken pictures with an old Argus camera in years past, so I have shots comparing the old house with the new, grander home. It sits just a hundred yards from the creek bed, which we traversed along an overgrown path of grasses and wildflowers. This trail has seen few feet trampling along its now hidden path in recent years. I, at my young age, realize we are on a hidden treasure of exploration. It is knee-deep in blooming color, each side of the trail overflowing with tall wild stems of subtle amber, bright lavender, and muted shades of blue-green.
By David B Townsendabout a year ago in Fiction
