Short Story

Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City
Preparations for the Street Market of the GodForsaken City The smell of anise taffy being pulled, thick and sugary, wafted from the lighthouse kitchen, a rare scent of sweetness in a world frozen by the eternal chill.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻2 years ago in Fiction
The Reckoning
The Reckoning The undead were swarming again. Blackened silhouettes crested the frozen hills, a grotesque wave of decay against the pale expanse of snow.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻2 years ago in Fiction
Butterflies and Ravens
“Are you sure you want to go back to this moment?” “I believe the obscene amount of money in your Swiss bank account answers that question.”
By Sean A.2 years ago in Fiction
Butterflies and Songbirds. Top Story - February 2025.
What would you choose as your last memory? The last thing you would ever see? What small animal would you like to be? William hated questionnaires, but this would be the last one he ever filled out. His doctors had given him less than a week to live and one last choice to make. One he and his wife had made long ago. Jenna had figured it all out. She’d always been the planner, and he was grateful to be the one she picked to make her dreams come true. The first part of the plan had gone into effect three years, seven months, and a week of tear-blurred days ago, when Jenna had made her final journey. Always leading the way. Some of her students, her kids, had thrown a going-away party. William didn’t have to worry about any of that. Before her, it had always been his plan to disappear from this world without a trace. Jenna had convinced him to leave something in this world, if not this time.
By Sean A.2 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Mishap
“Dude, you were sleepwalking again,” Mark said, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Kyle blinked groggily, rubbing his eyes. “What? No, I wasn’t. I just… woke UP in the kitchen.”
By Komal2 years ago in Fiction
Lost Letters Through Time"
In Search of Lost Feelings It was almost 2 AM. The silent city lay asleep, but Aritra’s eyes refused to close. He stared at the old letters scattered across his desk—some faded, some yellowed with time, each a silent witness to the past. Suddenly, a notification popped up on his phone. A post he had written on an Instagram page called Timeless Letters had gone viral— "Has anyone ever written a letter that deepens with time?" Among thousands of comments, one stood out— "Perhaps the letter is lost, but the emotions still live on. Do you believe that?" The profile name: Priyanka Sen. Curious, Aritra replied immediately— "I want to believe. Have you ever received such a letter?" Priyanka didn’t reply right away, but after a while, a message appeared in his inbox. "I want to show you something, if you have time." Aritra’s curiosity peaked. He responded at once— "Of course! How?" Priyanka replied— "Tomorrow, 7 PM, at 'Old Book Café'. Do you have time?" Aritra hesitated for a moment. A stranger from Instagram was inviting him to a book café. Was this mere coincidence, or was time really sending him a message? After a brief pause, he typed— "Alright. See you at 7 PM tomorrow." --- The Next Evening 7 PM. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Aritra stood at the entrance of Old Book Café, hesitating for a moment. Was he making the right decision? But curiosity pushed him forward. The café was warm and nostalgic—old books stacked in every corner, handwritten manuscripts hanging on the walls, and soft yellow lights wrapping the place in a quiet glow. In a corner, a girl sat by herself, a small wooden box resting beside her hand. Aritra walked up slowly and asked, “Are you Priyanka?” She looked up and smiled. “You finally came.” Aritra pulled out a chair. “You said you had something to show me?” Priyanka opened the wooden box. Inside lay rows of old letters—some handwritten, some typed on an antique typewriter, and a few so old that the paper had turned brittle. Aritra’s eyes widened. “What are these?” Priyanka lowered her gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Letters written over time. Each one holds a mystery, a story that has survived through the years.” Aritra flipped through a few letters, his fingers tracing the faded ink. “Where did you find these?” Priyanka’s eyes sparkled with an unreadable expression. “To know that, you have to read the first letter.” Aritra picked up the first one. The envelope bore a single sentence— "If you truly believe that feelings can survive time, then time will reveal the truth to you." A shiver ran down his spine. Who wrote this? Carefully, Aritra unfolded the letter. The paper was old, slightly torn in places, the handwriting delicate yet strong. > "Dear, I don’t know who you are, or when you will read this. But if you truly believe that some feelings never fade, Then let me tell you a story. On a cold winter evening in 1987, a young man handed his first love a letter in this very café. There were no mobile phones then, no internet—only waiting. The girl read the letter, but she never replied. Time moved on, people got lost, But the emotions remained, folded inside these pages. Do you want to find the answer? Then read the second letter…" Aritra’s heart pounded. He looked up at Priyanka. “Is this real?” Priyanka smiled faintly. “Do you believe that feelings can survive time?” Aritra was silent, his mind swirling with a thousand questions. Priyanka pulled out another letter. “This one’s for you to read now. And then you tell me—does time really keep love alive?” Aritra opened the second letter. The paper was even older, parts of it almost erased. > "Dear Arnab, I know you’re looking for me. But time has separated us. Will you truly wait? If you do, you’ll find me at the same place Where you gave me your first letter. Love doesn’t disappear, It only changes with time." Aritra’s breath caught. “Arnab? Who is Arnab?” Priyanka’s eyes gleamed. “Did you know that 30 years ago, a young man waited here… at this very table?” Aritra felt an odd hollowness in his chest. “This story… is it real? Or just an old legend?” Priyanka pulled out another letter. “This is the final one.” Aritra unfolded it with shaky hands. The paper was ancient, yellowed with age. The handwriting trembled slightly. > "Dear Meera, I don’t know if you will ever return, But I know that I want to wait. Time changes many things, But the first letter you gave me Is still close to my heart. If you ever come back, I will be right here, In this old book café." Aritra set the letter down, his fingers trembling. “Did Meera ever come back?” Priyanka’s expression turned wistful. “No. But the letters remained—silent witnesses to love.” Aritra sat in deep thought. Then, almost whispering, he asked, “Does love truly survive time?” Priyanka smiled. “To find your answer, you must write a letter.” Aritra frowned. “For whom?” Priyanka leaned forward and whispered, “For the future. Just like Arnab did. Write, so that one day, someone reads it and understands—love never dies.” Aritra hesitated, then pulled out a piece of paper. He picked up a pen and began to write— > "Dear Unknown Reader, If you ever wonder whether feelings fade with time, Read this letter. Love never dies—it only waits. If you believe, One day, time will give you your answer." Aritra placed the letter inside the wooden box. Priyanka smiled. “Now do you understand?” Aritra gazed at the letters, lost in thought. Perhaps, some love stories truly live on—with a letter, a memory, a waiting heart… (The End.)
By Saied 2 years ago in Fiction
A fault in time
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Seconds later it started running forward again. At Buckingham Palace, in the music room, the King and Queen were in a meeting. Everyone looked at each other with confusion and horror on their faces.
By Robert Kegel2 years ago in Fiction
Rise of "Le Matriarche" (Part 2). Top Story - February 2025.
Wrestling fans all over Canada, and even all over the world, were still talking about what took place in Hamilton, Ontario. What started out as a planned confrontation ended with a brutal and shocking betrayal. Janine Brock, the World Champion of the Women's Wrestling Brigade, had been taunted and teased by the mysterious Le Matriarche, a notorious Quebecoise wrestling villainess looking to rule WWB. During all of this, Janine confided in her friend and mentor, Collette Shannon, a wrestling legend and a fellow Ontarian, regarding her ordeal.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
The Man Who Knew Tomorrow
Ethan Clarke had always known what was going to happen. Not in a supernatural way, not with visions or voices. He simply woke up each morning with a clear knowledge of the day ahead—what conversations he’d have, what news would break, even the smallest details like which song would play on the radio. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. At first, he thought everyone was like him. But as he grew older, he realized no one else saw time as he did. His parents dismissed his predictions as coincidences. His teachers called him imaginative. By adulthood, he had learned to live with it. He never used it for personal gain. Never played the lottery, never changed events. He simply followed the script. Until one morning—everything changed. Ethan woke up and felt… nothing. His mind was blank. The day ahead, which should have been crystal clear, was an empty void. Panic gripped him. He checked his phone. No missed calls, no news alerts—yet. He turned on the TV, but before the anchor could speak, he realized he had no idea what she was going to say. For the first time in his life, he was living in the unknown. Was he sick? Was he dying? Had something broken inside his mind? Then, a thought struck him. Maybe this wasn’t about him. Maybe something had changed—not just for him, but for the world itself. Determined to find out, Ethan left his apartment and walked through the city. The streets looked the same, people going about their day. But something felt off. Then, at exactly 12:07 PM, it happened. A deafening BOOM shook the ground. People screamed. Glass shattered. Smoke filled the sky. Ethan turned toward the source—a massive explosion in the distance. A building collapsing in on itself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His entire life, he had known the future. But this? This was something new. Something unexpected. As he stood frozen, his mind raced. Had his ability disappeared because time itself had changed? Had someone—or something—altered the future? Then, out of the chaos, he saw her. A woman in a gray coat, standing perfectly still amidst the panic. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t screaming. She was watching him. Their eyes met. And suddenly— Memories flooded back. But they weren’t his. He saw flashes of another life. A world where he had met this woman before. A world where time had rewritten itself, over and over, and she was the one pulling the strings. The woman gave a small, knowing smile. Then, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. Ethan’s breath came in short gasps. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what would happen next. And for the first time—he was truly afraid.
By Hridoy Hasan2 years ago in Fiction
A Quiet Day on The Blue Monkey
A Quiet Day on The Blue Monkey Quaraun lay nestled in the warmth of their shared stateroom, propped up against pillows, the soft scent of lavender oil filling the air as his handmaids flitted about, fussing over him with gentle care.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻2 years ago in Fiction
The Map That Changed Everything
When my grandfather passed, I didn’t just inherit his dusty attic—I inherited a mystery. Tucked between yellowed journals and faded photographs was a map that promised a fortune. The catch? It warned: ‘The treasure will cost more than gold.’
By Ammar Jagadhita2 years ago in Fiction
Flower Bed
* she saw the sign there on the lawn two beds for rent, with garden view covered porch with chair to swing on a handyman comes with it too
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Fiction