Young Adult

Shhhh, Listen
“Don’t shoot me the bird!” “You deserve it; you are being an asshole. For your information, I do it all the time behind your back. Can’t you feel the poke between your shoulder blades?”
By Andrea Corwin 8 months ago in Fiction
The Pot Boiling Over
Once, there was a pot of about 340 million drops and droplets. Most of them would like to think they lived together peacefully for decades, but that wasn’t true. Different regions struggled, sometimes fought, with each other. And the mainstreams still often pursued and attacked the minorities. Law enforcers sometimes pushed minority drops out of the pot, never to be seen again.
By Gabriel B. Shames8 months ago in Fiction
The Metal Carcass
Jail was a solemn place. Especially for the Sheriff forced to live there. No family visits, no days away. He lived here constantly with only his Lawmen for company.
By Liam Storm8 months ago in Fiction
Classified File: "Project One Eyed Jack"
Classified File “Project: One Eyed Jack” Problem Jack Heart Spade Needs Eyes Checked Research One crisp Saturday afternoon, Cora and Tina were stretching tight shirts and shorts, when picture perfect royal subject Jack Heart Spade paraded through the scene, not distracted by the athletically scholarship toned runners performing sightseeing photo opportunities. “What is his problem?” Cora academically asked, “Crisp autumn Saturday and Royal subject Jack Heart Spade just strolled along towards the library.” “He must not be playing with a full deck,” Cora concluded. “Not even a simple game of fifty-two card pick up,” Tina asserted frustrated, feeling discarded.
By Marc OBrien8 months ago in Fiction
The Library
Nihil River flowed through Neocity, hooking under wooden bridge near The Library. Mathilde had been walking along the river for the past few days. Not having her own transportation placed her among those with special needs. And to satisfy them, she would require a great deal of money, while she didn’t have any to spare.
By Sun Bee8 months ago in Fiction
Logical Explanation
“Tommy, I didn’t get your homework.” “Mrs. Davenport, there is a logical explanation for why I have no homework.” “Yes. You didn’t do it. You had a four-day weekend to get it done. What happened?”
By David E. Perry8 months ago in Fiction
You Weren't Supposed to Find Out. Top Story - January 2026.
“You weren’t supposed to find out.” “Oh? I wasn’t supposed to read my text messages? What, I should’ve ignored it instead? Give you a chance to take my phone and delete it?”
By Luna8 months ago in Fiction
The Baker's Paradox
Rutaa wiped the sweat draining off his bald head like a stream before drinking an entire goblet of water. The water wasn’t cool, nothing in his bakery was cool at the best of times, but the festival wasn't the best of times for a baker. He appreciated the humble reprieve none the less.
By Matthew J. Fromm8 months ago in Fiction
Golden Time of Day
When the snow melted, the spring air brought the pungent smell of trees blooming. Their pinks and fuchsias and whites created a panoply of color. Sedgwick Vorman, 39, carried the flowers in the same way to the same grave. His skin looked like chestnuts and his strong cheek bones and hands shot through the neck and the sleeves of his designer jacket. He dusted off the marker and replaced the flowers. He set up a blanket and a beach chair. He then opened the newspaper. News about the worst day in stock market history since the 1929 crash alerted his attention as he turned on the radio.
By Skyler Saunders8 months ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a peaceful village nestled between vast hills and serene lakes, lived a boy named Ayan. He was known for his quiet nature, yet his mind was bursting with dreams. Unlike his peers who were satisfied with routine, Ayan longed for adventure, exploration, and achievement—all synonyms of the ambitions he nurtured silently.
By meerjanan8 months ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a quiet village nestled between green hills and calm lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He was quiet by nature, often seen sitting under the old fig tree with a faraway look in his eyes. While others played, he would sketch mountains, write in his worn notebook, and stare at the peaks beyond the horizon.
By meerjanan8 months ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Attic
There was a house on the edge of the village that no one spoke of, not unless the wind was still and the night felt too long. It stood at the top of the hill, half-hidden by ivy and time, its windows clouded with dust, its porch sagging under the weight of years. The other children said it was cursed. They claimed they’d seen shadows where there should be none, heard laughter when the house had been empty for decades.
By meerjanan8 months ago in Fiction