Short Story
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
The high school gymnasium was transformed into a bustling workspace, filled with the rustle of crepe paper and the sharp scent of industrial adhesive. Megan stood precariously on a sturdy folding chair, her arms stretched high as she carefully aligned the vibrant, glitter-dusted banner that proclaimed the milestone reunion. She had spent hours navigating the logistics of the event single-handedly, feeling the weight of the task pressing down on her tired shoulders until the familiar sound of footsteps echoed across the polished hardwood floor.
By Forest Green5 months ago in Fiction
Freeze and Fight or Flight. Content Warning.
For Edward, it was already a long day, even though his leg was bothering him; he was out and about enjoying the day before the afternoon rains began. When he was 15 he fell 3 stories straight down a flight of steps onto a marble floor, he survived the fall, but not without permanent injury to his right leg, which caused him to walk with a severe limp, and now that he was in his mid-50's needed a cane for support. To add insult to injury he only had 25% of the hearing in his right ear for reasons he had yet to pinpoint. He couldn't afford proper hearing aids, and the cheap set he did get from some online store sounded like the person speaking to him was talking through a tin can.
By Timothy E Jones5 months ago in Fiction
Ruby Reads. Top Story - May 2026.
🎶I wanna love you…and treat you right🎶 Sorry, but I just can’t stop singing. I am beyond excited because my only son just did something amazing. He published his first book. I truly can’t express enough how proud I am of him. When my son, Joe was a little boy I used to make him and my oldest daughter, Rudy bring home books from both the city and school library and have them read them to the whole family every night before bed.
By Joe Patterson5 months ago in Fiction
What`s Going On
WHAT`S GOING ON? It`s fair to say that nobody, and I mean nobody, could ever accuse Catherine of being a snoop also, no one, from a family member to casual acquittance, can ever remember a time when she even pried into anyone else`s business. So, if she were ever to say that `I accidentally stumbled across it`, then there isn`t a single soul anywhere that wouldn`t believe her. Because it was true. The card along with its envelope, appeared to fall out of her husband`s Phil coat pocket and onto the floor as she was re-arranging all the coats on the hooks as everything had to be in its proper place.
By Paul Westlake5 months ago in Fiction
Event Horizon
“Come, Davis, you wanted to know what makes this experience so special. Come look out the window,” Lee offered. Fighting his feelings of uneasy frustration, Davis moved towards the cockpit. They seemed to be floating just above the Earth. Davis looked down at the stunning colors that popped against the black vacuum of space. Slowly, a new light appeared just beyond the Earth, creating a halo of bright white. It offered a sharp contrast against all else around them. “This is going to be your last sunrise for a while, Major Davis.” Lee chuckled softly and didn’t seem to notice Davis slipping away.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey5 months ago in Fiction
Unfriendly
“How are we even still friends?” I asked, scoffing a bit under my breath. I knew she hadn’t meant to be irritating, but I guess that’s what I got when I asked an overly logical person to get creative with me. She laughed sharply, but I could hear she was offended by my question.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey5 months ago in Fiction
A Jar Full of Sugar. Content Warning.
A woman is so much more than loose change left behind at the bottom of a broken barrel. We’re widows. Mothers. Ruths from time to time. Jezzabelles always, but hey, don’t judge me. I am far beyond perfect. I’m an artist. A Christian artist at that, which means I'm eighty percent religious, ninety percent liberal, and about twenty percent accurate when it comes to equations and percentages. Still, I come bearing gifts. I’ve always been a woman of the arts. I was born with brushes as fingertips and acrylic paint moving through my veins like electricity. I am like Picasso, but a woman. Van Gogh, but far from cocky. A woman like me with gifts like mine is quite frankly a rarity, and if I'm being honest, I'm okay with that. Very seldom is good art similar. And I’d rather be a woman scorned for being peculiar than a bone buried beneath the same damn dirt as everyone else.
By Kieron Morgan5 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
The heavy oak door groaned as Marc stepped into the foyer, his shoulders hunched under the weight of a long workday and the lingering chill of the autumn evening. He tossed his keys into the ceramic bowl, the metallic clatter echoing through the quiet house, before Joan emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a linen towel and wearing an expression of calculated anticipation. She watched him loosen his tie with a weary sigh, choosing that exact moment to drop the news that rippled through the room like a sudden draft, reminding him that the high school reunion was fast approaching and that a constellation of their former classmates had already confirmed their attendance.
By Forest Green5 months ago in Fiction
