Short Story

Playing With Fire
She eased into town with the elegant grace of a fine red wine gently swirled in a crystal glass. My name is Charlie. I happened to be on duty when her limo pulled up to the portico. I stood and held the hotel door open wide as I watched her long slender legs pour out of the back seat. Followed by what I can only describe as a bod so sleek and refined, it put pure beauty on standby.
By Scott A. Gese2 years ago in Fiction
The Weight of Shame
I was born in a small village in Africa, nestled in the rolling hills of the Eastern Cape. Our village was like many others in South Africa, struggling to survive in a country ravaged by poverty, civil wars, and famine.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
The Symphony of Heartstrings
When you think of love stories, you imagine a crescendo of passion, a symphony of emotions, but rarely do you consider the discordant notes that make the melody even more poignant.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
The Echo of a Whistle
My grandfather, a man of few words, had a whistle. Not the kind you blow into, but the kind that lived between his lips, a melody that seemed to carry the weight of his life's stories. It was a simple tune, three notes that he'd whistle while working in his garden or fixing the old, creaky porch swing.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Allusions Unexpected
They had been chasing each other for some time and joining friends at a lakeside cottage they rented for the long weekend that summer seemed to match their excitement and exuberance. Following some afternoon pleasantries, Charles suggested Tamika join him for a stroll down the beach, although not for a swim as the party had decided on using the rather large hot tub later that evening.
By Richard Soulliere2 years ago in Fiction
Another Gory Tale. Content Warning.
At last, both children were asleep. Sandy could hear Karl moving about in the kitchen, and took the opportunity to set up her phone camera. Tonight they were determined to find out what was going on.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
A Long-Overdue Apology
Subject: A Long-Overdue Apology From: Emily Carter To: Daniel Monroe Dear Daniel, I hope this email finds you well. I've debated writing this for years, and if you're reading it now, it means I finally found the courage to send it. Please know this isn't an attempt to reopen old wounds or seek absolution; it’s simply an apology long overdue.
By Ashley D. Gilyard2 years ago in Fiction
A Story of Courage and Resilience
The sun rose over the small village of Kallakurichi, casting a warm golden light over the thatched roofs and the dusty streets. The village was nestled in the heart of rural Tamil Nadu, surrounded by lush green fields and dense forests.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Nothing
We are always pressured into doing something, but doing nothing allows us to relax and recuperate both physically and mentally.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Conscience Couple: One Extra Dumpling, Win the World
This evening, a tall and thin man walked into "Miaowei Dumpling House". Judging by his attire, it was clear that he was a migrant worker. The restaurant was quite busy at the time, and the tall and thin man had to wait for a while before he could get a seat. As soon as he sat down, the waitress, Xiao Lan, came over with a smile and asked, "Sir, what would you like to eat? We have three types of dumplings in our shop. The all-meat ones are 3.5 yuan per liang, the half-vegetable and half-meat ones are 3 yuan per liang, and the all-vegetable ones are 2.5 yuan per liang."
By John Bruce2 years ago in Fiction
Then Who?
"His eyes blazed," sounded like such a cliché, but they did! He was so angry, the gold flecks in his hazel irises looked like sparks. The spittle flying from his bristling beard, and his aggressive gestures only added to the effect. He looked like he was about to explode. "I'm telling you," Karl's shouts were punctuated by steps forward, "I didn't do any of that stuff!" Sandy took a pace back, and another, corresponding to his. Like a reluctant dance. She was cross with herself for giving ground, but he was much bigger, and in his fury, seemed to tower over her. Her heart kicked up a notch, a flighty hummingbird thrumming in her chest. Her anger had shrunk, abandoning her when she most needed it, crowded out by Doubt, and leaving room for Fear. Karl's outrage seemed genuine. She believed him, yet it felt wrong, weak, to bend when he was being so aggressive. She dashed tears away before they could spill, drew herself up taller. She felt tiny, still, like an angry kitten. Well if you didn't do it, who did? I don't know! Maybe Wyatt. You've ruined that kid. He's a spoilt little shit. Sandy's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped. "He's a child, Karl!" she seethed, her anger rising again in a wave to meet his. "You seriously think he would leave a KNIFE by Matty's bed?" "You think I would?"
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The Orchid | Chapter One
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Blood seeped from the soil beneath the roots of our trees. The sky blackened during the brightest hours of the day, and the people of the realm collapsed into a delusional state of desolation.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction