Short Story
Swiftwood Forest. Content Warning.
The rich, orange con man told the people he would take care of them. He told them they should be angry at the very people they needed the most. Anything to deflect attention away from his desire to steal from them and give to the rich.
By Terri Kalloch2 years ago in Fiction
Departed Garments. Runner-Up in Legends Rewritten Challenge. Content Warning.
Trapped within the confines of the bedraggled dry cleaners on Mourner’s Alley, Molly peered through the perpetually fogged window at the blurry sun. She worked diligently on the pale green dress before her, needing it clean and pristine before its recipient arrived.
By Steph Marie2 years ago in Fiction
The Sisters Gruff
Billie Gruffington was not a fan of many things. The very small town she lived in. The fact it wasn't near Paris, France, but rather, the one in Tennessee. Broccoli, the way her oldest sister Iris chewed said broccoli (really any food), the upsetting fact she was the youngest, her elementary school, yes, the list went on and on. In fact, Billie wore a scowl on her face most days, even more than the next door neighbor, Clarence, the crotchety old man often seen on his rocking chair sipping on his morning coffee every morning.
By Alexandria Stanwyck2 years ago in Fiction
Hedone
You may know the tale of Psyche and Eros where it truly was like a tale as old as time. Of how the son of the beautiful goddess Aphrodite fell in love with a mortal woman, who would eventually become a goddess herself. But you don’t know the tale of their daughter Hedone, and which seemed only natural being the offspring of love and soul would become the Goddess of pleasure!
By Joanna Blaze2 years ago in Fiction
A Divinely Impossible Love
It was a long-ago Friday evening in May. La Negrita was packed. Young professionals drank with plumbers and file clerks. Men and women mixed and separated in eddying pools along the bar spanning the length of a long wall in the cantina’s courtyard. On the other side of the courtyard, a Cuban band played loud and sinuous salsa music. The place was a cacophony of laughter, clinking, innuendo, and romance.
By Pitt Griffin2 years ago in Fiction
Pygmalion's First Girlfriend
Sitting back in his desk chair, Pygmalion huffed. He was supposed to be working on some new features for a makeup website, but the dozens of reference photos he was working with had driven him to take a break and browse tinder. No luck. Again. At this point, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but the disappointment never got any easier to deal with. It was hard to understand what he was doing wrong. Everyone always told him to just be himself and he would find a girl who was right for him eventually, but no-one ever seemed interested. It was tempting to just give up and lean into being the typical lonely, nerdy virgin stereotype, but the older he got, the more embarrassing it was to have never had a girlfriend. As he continued to swipe through dozens of profiles, they all seemed to blur together, no face sticking in his mind for more than a few seconds. After a minute, he ran out of swipes. He told himself he wasn’t desperate enough to pay for premium, not that it would make a difference anyway. Tossing his phone onto his bed, he turned back towards his computer. He was supposed to be modelling a new interface for this website. Someone had decided that they needed a poseable model head for people to test makeup looks on. The model they had given him was not fit for purpose at all, so he was attempting to make another one that would be easier to rig and texture. As he worked, sculpting the finer details of the face, he found himself getting caught up in the artistry of it. He carved dimples into her cheeks that would be accentuated when she smiled. He gave her chickenpox scars under her left eye, freckles across the bridge of her nose, the slightest hint of crows’ feet. Her hair would have to be variable in colour and texture, but he imagined her with soft waves of red. When he saw the sky beginning to brighten again, he was sure he had gone far beyond the brief, but he didn’t care.
By Rowan Nicholson2 years ago in Fiction
So Brave, So Proud (AKA Hero's Lament). Top Story - February 2025. Content Warning.
Tallulah should be smiling, because it's her fifth birthday. That means balloons, and cake, and presents. It's also Saturday, which means no school. And, thanks to what happened last week, every kid in her class wants to be at her party. Every kid in the school wants to be there, but the garden isn't quite that big. Kids are running about all over the sloping lawn in the hot sunshine, giggling and squealing. There's more kids on the bouncy castle, which is gently roaring and ruining daddy's grass. Daddy doesn't care. Not today. Tallulah should be smiling, because her mummy and daddy have hugged her tight a hundred times and told her they are so, so, so proud of her. She should be smiling because her little sister, Annabella, not quite two years old, is home from the hospital. She's really truly okay, she's going to be fine. The doctors said so. The doctors also said she was a very lucky little girl. They were keen to meet Tallulah and tell her this. Your baby sister is a lucky girl! She's lucky to have you looking out for her. She's lucky to have a big sister who is so brave! Tallulah doesn't feel brave at all. She feels small, and the world feels big and heavy. She should be excited, because police officers, firefighters and paramedics have all turned up to her party. Not people dressing up, no, real live ones. In the right kind of car or truck, with the flashing lights on top. They all beam at her, and tell her she's special, and a hero, and she's so brave, and she should be so proud (there it is again). She gets to try on their hats and sit up front in each of the vehicles. They all seem to be vying, in a good-natured way, which profession will "get her" when she grows up. They are all convinced that she will grow up to be an incredible person who helps people. (No pressure, kid.)
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Poor Unfortunate Soul
“Flounder, have you ever wondered what the sea would look like if those creatures didn’t throw all their garbage in it?” “That would never happen. I mean look around. We spend all day collecting their garbage and bringing it here to try and make the waters clear again. At this point someone might think we’re Sebatian. And we still haven’t scratched the surface. I miss when the waters were blue.”
By Jennifer David2 years ago in Fiction
The Lady of the Lake. Honorable Mention in Legends Rewritten Challenge.
I am made of water. I am not the Lady of the Lake. There is no separation there, no division of type. I am the Lake. I am water. I can take human form but only because I choose to. Then, my presence is discernible for the creature who stands before me to know me on their own terms of reference.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Wrestling The World Serpent
When I was around eight years old, I had an Uncle, Dolon, who my parents rarely spoke about. When they did, he seemed like a huge, larger than life-figure like Paul Bunyan. He scared me, but being the eight year old boy I was, I would never admit it even to myself.
By Hunter Wilson2 years ago in Fiction
