Short Story
Under Her Eye
Cullen Quinn sat alone in his Belfast apartment, the flickering light of his computer casting long shadows across the room. He scrolled through the files of evidence—falsified contracts, untraceable donations to political campaigns, and the illegal distribution of opioids by Connacht Corps—all part of the corrupt machinery that had been grinding the city down for years. The city’s health crisis was being manipulated, exacerbated to a breaking point, and those with the least were the ones who suffered the most. The lives of the city’s most vulnerable citizens hung by a thread: families, already facing economic hardship, torn apart by addiction, and isolated senior citizens with no insurance agonized hopelessly while Connacht Corps reaped millions in profits off their pain. He wasn’t just exposing it anymore. He was dismantling it, piece by piece, but every revelation only deepened the hole he was digging for himself.
By Sara Little2 years ago in Fiction
My mom threw magic beans into the backyard and you won't BELIEVE what happened next!. Runner-Up in Legends Rewritten Challenge. Top Story - January 2025.
What’s going on Jackalopers? Your boy Jack here with an update. I’m sure you remember my last video where I planted those beans I traded my mom’s weird cow statue for. If you haven’t seen that video, be sure to click the link below to get the full story, but boy howdy was she pissed. And to the haters making comments about me still living with my mom, have you seen this economy? You all forget ad revenue isn’t what it used to be, and random videos get demonetized for no reason. Link for my Patreon in the description, by the way. But back to it. I planted those beans… well not so much planted as my mom threw them out into the backyard… but still. Check. This. Shit. Out.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
The boy she grew up to love
In the small town of Willow Creek, the air always seemed to carry a sense of nostalgia. The streets were lined with old oaks, the same trees that had witnessed years of friendship, growth, and countless summers that felt as if they would never end. Iings had lived in Willow Creek her entire life, just like Zicky. Their families had been neighbors since they were kids, and they shared more than just proximity—they shared their childhood, their memories, and, most importantly, their unspoken bond. Mariam, Iings' best friend since elementary school, always teased her about Zicky. "You know, Iings, one day he's going to look at you and see you differently," Mariam would say with a wink. Iings would laugh it off. "He’s my best friend. Nothing more." She couldn't imagine her life without Zicky by her side. They had grown up together—played tag in the summer heat, studied together for tests, and comforted each other through their teenage heartbreaks. He was her anchor, and she was his. Zicky, on the other hand, never seemed to notice anything more than friendship in their relationship. He had always been the outgoing one, with a knack for making everyone laugh and a charm that never went unnoticed. He was close with both Iings and Mariam, but when it came to love, his attention was always directed toward someone else. “I think you should tell him how you feel,” Mariam said one evening as they sat at their usual hangout spot—an old, worn-out bench near the town’s lake. The golden sunset cast a warm glow on the water, making everything seem perfect, almost too perfect. “I can’t,” Iings replied quietly, her gaze fixed on the rippling surface of the water. “He doesn’t see me that way. He’s always been focused on someone else.” “Like Katy?” Mariam asked, raising an eyebrow. Iings nodded. Katy, a girl from their school, had always been the object of Zicky's affections. She was stunning—popular, fashionable, and always surrounded by friends. Iings had always been happy for Zicky, wanting him to be happy with whomever he chose, but deep down, the pain of knowing she wasn’t the one he noticed was something she couldn’t escape. But everything began to change after that summer—the summer before their senior year. The day everything shifted had started like any other: warm, clear skies, and the scent of fresh grass in the air. But that afternoon, the winds of fate began to blow in a direction Iings never saw coming. It happened at the school’s annual summer festival, where everyone came together for games, food, and dancing. Zicky had agreed to be part of a tug-of-war team, and Iings had been assigned to work the food booth. But as the event wore on, Iings found herself stealing glances at Zicky, noticing how different he looked that day. His smile seemed a little warmer, and his eyes—those familiar brown eyes—seemed to linger on her a little longer than usual. At some point, he approached her at the booth, handing her a bottle of water with a grin. "You’re doing a great job here," he said, his voice light but sincere. Iings smiled back, grateful for the compliment. "Thanks, Zicky. You’re doing great out there too," she replied. He leaned against the counter, looking at her with a new, almost unreadable expression. “You know, I always thought you were just… I don’t know, just Iings. But now, I’m starting to see you in a different light.” Her heart skipped. "What do you mean?" she asked, though she already had a sinking feeling in her chest. He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’ve always been around you, but lately… lately, it feels different. Like maybe I’ve been blind to something that’s been right in front of me all along.” Iings’ pulse quickened. "Zicky, I—" Before she could finish, he was interrupted by the loud cheers from the tug-of-war game. Zicky turned his head, his attention momentarily pulled away. "I'll see you later, Iings," he said with a smile, and before she could say anything else, he was gone. Iings stood there, her mind racing. Did he just say what she thought he did? Could it be possible? Had Zicky really just admitted that he might feel something more than friendship? Over the next few days, Zicky seemed different. He wasn’t as distracted by Katy, nor was he as carefree as usual. There was a subtle change in how he interacted with Iings, and she began to notice the way he looked at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time. They spent more time together—more than they had in a long while. One evening, as they walked home from school, their hands brushed together. Neither of them pulled away, and for a few seconds, their fingers interlocked. It felt like the world had paused, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Zicky stopped walking and turned to face her. “Iings, I think I’ve been an idiot,” he said, his voice quiet but earnest. Iings blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?” “I mean, all these years I’ve been so focused on everyone else. I didn’t realize the one person who’s always been there for me… is the one I should have been looking at all along. I’m sorry it took me this long to see it.” Iings’ heart pounded in her chest. "Zicky, I—" Before she could finish, he cupped her face gently with his hands, pulling her closer. "I’ve been so blind, Iings. I think I’ve loved you all along, and I didn’t even know it." The words she had longed to hear for so many years finally came pouring out, and without another word, Zicky kissed her. It wasn’t rushed, but slow and tender, like he had all the time in the world to show her how much he truly cared. From that moment on, everything changed between them. Iings was no longer the girl who was only Zicky's best friend. She was the girl he had grown up to love. Their relationship bloomed, growing stronger with each passing day. It wasn’t long before Mariam, Katy, and even Jason noticed the undeniable chemistry between them. Katy, surprisingly, was supportive of their newfound connection, knowing that Zicky had never truly been hers. “I guess it took him a little longer to figure it out,” Mariam teased one afternoon when Iings and Zicky were walking hand in hand. Iings laughed, her heart light. "Better late than never." As they sat together at their favorite spot near the lake, now as a couple, Iings realized something. Love, much like life, didn’t always happen the way you imagined it. But sometimes, it took time for people to realize what they had right in front of them all along. And in the quiet of the evening, with the sunset painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Iings knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be—right beside Zicky, the boy she had grown up to love.
By Danny_lovelyn2 years ago in Fiction
The Weight of a Dream. AI-Generated.
Elliot stood at the corner, staring at the crosswalk light. The soft morning mist blurred the world around him. He had the sense that time was bending, stretching, like a fragile thread about to snap. His wristwatch, his father’s watch, ticked steadily—yet today, it felt louder than usual, as if it were trying to remind him of something important.
By philip liberto2 years ago in Fiction
Conference Margaritas
The conference was the same as every year, not necessarily boring, but predictable. Informative. A good enough time. People got to stay in a nice hotel for free, a week away in a different city. Simon scanned the faces in the crowd, many of the same ones he briefly saw last year too. Until his eyes landed on a new face. No, he’d never seen her before.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile2 years ago in Fiction
The Final Clue
One clue per year. The tenth and final clue to a long buried treasure had just been released. Now the race was on. Lucas Mayfield, owner and sole reporter for the Haleyville Gazette, sat at a small table next to the sunlit window. His second pencil was already beginning to dull as he feverishly wrote without stopping. The woman sitting across the table from him gazed out the window, lost in the past as she recounted her story to the reporter. It was almost unbelievable, yet true to the very last word.
By Scott A. Gese2 years ago in Fiction
Heartly Botanical: The Angel Camellia
Prologue A young man with light brown skin stood in front of a full body mirror. He adjusted his black tie before tucking it in his elaborate black vest with its white floral patterns. Putting in his sapphire cufflink on his left wrist, he noticed his light brown hair was slightly unevenly combed. Rolling his hazel eyes, he combed his hair back four times. Satisfied, he winked at his reflection and grabbed his white suit jacket. “Ry. Ryan. Ryan!” he stepped towards the doorway, noticed whimpering, and ran to the connecting room.
By Christopher Shavers2 years ago in Fiction
The Lottery Ticket
Genre:Mystery/Thriller Opening Scene: David Brooks, a middle-aged office worker experiencing a streak of bad luck, trudges home after an exhausting, dull day at work. He stops by a convenience store out of habit and purchases a lottery ticket with the last few dollars he has in his wallet. It’s a customary act—he never thinks he’ll actually win.
By Rabia Rizwan2 years ago in Fiction
The Common Tongue
Bimpe and Papa Legba had been walking together for three hours when they crossed paths with another traveler – a merchant driving his cart. The beast pulling his cart looked like a buffalo, but Bimpe didn’t think any merchant was crazy enough to try and yoke a widow-maker to their wares. But, if the beast pulling the merchant’s cart was strange, the merchant himself was stranger.
By T. A. Bres2 years ago in Fiction
