Short Story
LOML
The wedding had been called off just moments ago. I couldn't even find myself looking at you... at the way you glossed your eyes over while talking amongst all your family and close friends; almost as if you've expected them to believe I'd just broken your heart while calling off the biggest day of my young life.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet2 years ago in Fiction
**At Popeyes, I Met an Angel. What He Spoke Astonished Me!**
It was a Tuesday afternoon, one of those days when the beginning of the week and the calm expectation of the weekend kind of blended together. I was surprised by how hungry I felt after finishing my errands. Enticed by the promise of crispy chicken and those irresistibly buttery biscuits, I turned into a nearby Popeyes parking lot.
By Abdul Qayyum2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Time
I was coming out of my bedroom, and my sister was coming up the stairs with a kitchen knife in her hand. Her eyes looked brittle, and her smile looked like the crack in a mirror. I opened my mouth to say, "What are you doing" but no sound came. My feet were rooted to the carpet. I was nine. My sister was fifteeen. She'd never babysat me, or been alone with me. Not since I was a baby. If I'd known what she'd done I might've been even more frightened to see her advancing on me like that. One moment, I was wondering if I was going to die, the next she was past me like I was invisible.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The library of memories. AI-Generated.
There was a little girl around the age of 12. She was fond of reading, and her creativity was often praised by others. Being an introvert, she liked staying alone. One day, on her way home from school, she noticed a different shop—one she realized had never been there before. As she approached it, she saw that it was a library, with the wind softly blowing. It suddenly started raining before her hand could reach the door handle, and she became half-wet. Slowly, she opened the door and entered the library.
By Zainab Bula2 years ago in Fiction
Man Is Not Truly One, But Truly Two
What’s the measure of a man? A cloud of cigarette smoke engulfs the painting before him. It’s a masterpiece, surely—the painting, not the smoke cloud. The lines? Perfect. The technique? Masterful yet subtly innovative. Never jarring, it’s a piece that can be admired by both laymen gawkers behind a velvet rope, and crusty professors hanging onto their thesis as it gets iterated to irrelevance.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
Keep Calm and Bang That Drum. Content Warning.
Mabel Francis, 52, eyes of blue, five foot four, sun dress, inappropriate for the weather, appropriate for the season, inappropriate for what she's doing: chasing a dog. Appropriate for 197 pounds? Maybe. Mabel's been seeing a therapist for a few years now who's been trying to convince her how sad she is for having a BMI in the 30s when really she's been not only fine with it but actually quite happy since she was 47 and her husband left her for someone who was skinny and who then got cancer and Mabel would never wish misery on anyone and she wasn't glad the skinny bitch got cancer, just glad it made her husband sad when the skinny bitch kicked him out for thinking the cancer was his punishment for leaving Mabel. She's seeing the therapist because she feels guilty for being glad her ex-husband's sad. Good Christians don't feel glad when people are sad. But the therapist won't stop asking her if her weight affects her mood (it doesn't) so she's thinking maybe she should just give up Christianity altogether because then she can feel good about smiling and say, in all sincerity, Fuck you, Carl.
By Jason Edwards2 years ago in Fiction
“She Waited for the Bus, But a Ghost Train Arrived Instead—What Happened Next Will Haunt You!"
**The Ghost of the Train Station** It was the kind of night when a heavy, chilling fog enveloped the town. In Arbovale, people rarely stayed out late, especially in the area around the former rail station. Everyone agreed that the station should have been demolished long ago, but nobody could quite recall when the trains ceased running.
By Abdul Qayyum2 years ago in Fiction
Good Bye Mum.
I was just a naive 8 year Old, bursting with excitement and dreams, when my world was shattered. I had rushed home from school, eager to share the thrilling news with my mom. I had been chosen to skip a grade and take the Common Entrance exams! But as I searched the empty house, my heart sank. Where was she?
By Nneka Benedith2 years ago in Fiction
