Short Story
Strawberries and Cigarrettes
1 I was sleeping in the same bed as my bandmate and close friend when suddenly she woke up and fell to the floor. I didn’t notice until the noise made me open my eyes. Still half-asleep, I got up and went to the bathroom, only to find her there, kneeling on the floor, staring blankly and throwing up.
By Cesar González Torres4 months ago in Fiction
THE WRONG PLACE
I woke sitting slumped on metal seats, head throbbing. The slightest movement made me feel nauseous, as if I was on a ship out at sea. I grabbed my head, pressing it against my hands. The light here was too bright and the sounds of an intercom overhead felt like having my head drilled into.
By Elizabeth Butler4 months ago in Fiction
And The Word Became Flesh. Content Warning.
Why would the King select me specifically for this gruesome task? ''An urgent order,'' his excellency proclaimed, as if asking for freshly baked bread, or another barrel of mead. The normalcy of it made me feel uneasy to say the least. ''Now.'' he added, as I bowed deeply. And even before I took my leave to accomplish his terrible will, the King asked for his advisors, regarding a meeting with the defeated enemy's envoys.
By YonathanJ - Writer4 months ago in Fiction
Iwa's Way
She arrives unannounced, enduring solitude at sea. Gradually, she builds strength while voyaging through Polynesia. Fleeing from Sun Ke Akua, she jumps from storm front to storm front. Her intentional eyes lie shrouded beneath grey brows with gleams of blue iris gazing upon the land.
By Tony Martello5 months ago in Fiction
Death in the Morning
Hugo had hoped to spend the morning in bed reading another PG Wodehouse novel, but this morning his neighbour had decided to make as much noise as possible. Since about 8am there had been a constant cacophony of clangs and bangs, as if she – he thought it was a she who lived in the flat next door – were wrestling with the Saucepan Man from Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree books. Several times he had settled back against the purposefully plumped pile of pillows, propped the book on his knees, which were drawn up towards his chest, but still under the plum coloured quilt, and read the first line.
By Matthew Batham5 months ago in Fiction
Smartphone Zombies
This had gone so wrong.The phone app was supposed to influence those that used it to buy the required products.But just like any drug, the users became addicted.They never bought anything but if anyone tried to take the phone off them they screamed attacked and bit anyone who tried.They were drawn to Milton Keynes, and non-addicts were forced to move out for their own safety.High-Level discussions took place and the only solution was the decommissioning of the app and the total extermination of the addicts.They were now smartphone zombies.They had to be eliminated.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 5 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of Peter’s modest suburban living room, casting soft amber patterns across the polished hardwood floor where an old, well‑worn coffee table still bore the ring stains of countless gatherings from decades past. Inside, the quiet hum of the air‑conditioning mixed with the distant bark of a neighbor’s dog, creating a gentle backdrop that felt both intimate and expectant. Peter stood near the doorway, his brow slightly furrowed as he stared at the stack of vinyl records and a scattering of CDs that he had accumulated over the years, each one a memory waiting to be coaxed back into the present. He could hear the muffled murmur of conversation from the kitchen, where his longtime friend Marc was already rummaging through a cardboard box of mixtapes, his fingers tracing the faded ink of handwritten track listings as though reading a secret script. The house itself seemed to hold its breath, aware that within its walls a modest but crucial part of the upcoming high school reunion was about to take shape: the selection of music that would serve as the auditory tapestry for a night that promised both nostalgia and renewal. Outside, the street had begun to quiet as the day’s commute slipped away, leaving only the promise of a weekend that would bring old friends, familiar laughter, and the soft echo of melodies that had once soundtrack teenage dreams.
By Forest Green5 months ago in Fiction
