Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you'll love, handpicked by our team.
Aurelius Ascends. Top Story - September 2026.
Aurelius Ascends had spent the best part of fifteen years shifting from a single figment of a dream to a glossy digital image on a one-hundred-inch computer screen, eventually realized by SpaceCorp's head designer, Lisa Scanlon, and put on the drawing board.
By Jonathan Townend2 days ago in Fiction
She Flew Away. Top Story - September 2026.
Every spring there I have a visitor. She has a long slim neck, sharp facial features decorated with the softest edges you'll ever see, and she's a terrible singer. Though each summer, once she's gone, I do ache in the silence. For the most part she wanders the back edge of my too-large for me property, every now and then I take my morning walk a little too close and she lectures me and moves back farther.
By K.L. Grace3 days ago in Fiction
The Rotting Wreaths of Winterveil. Top Story - September 2026.
It was a truly tacit place, Winterveil —with unpredictable, looping weather and calendars that barely rang true. You would think students had grown accustomed to living such a life, but most of them had no idea, no clue of what world they had been born into.
By K.H. Obergfoll2 days ago in Fiction
The Fig Woman. Top Story - September 2026.
"The concept of fate is weird in that it implies twisted forms of time and causality that are alien to ordinary perception, but it is also eerie in that it raises questions about agency: who or what is the entity that has woven fate?"
By Tyler Clark3 days ago in Fiction
A Lifeless Meadow. Top Story - September 2026.
The early morning dew is seeping into your blue jeans as you open your eyes and realize you have no idea where you are. Last night is a fairly recent memory but you know you left the bar with Molly and James about midnight. Molly was celebrating her 30th birthday with a self-thrown party that James would inevitably pay for. You had been invited since you and Molly were old college roommates and she wanted everyone there to help her cross over into her thirties.
By Barbara Gode Wiles6 days ago in Fiction
I'm Sure It's Fine. Top Story - September 2026.
“The Great Wildebeest Migration was not just a spectacle for tourists, and it was not just a time-specific, clockwise loop that the herd animals made through Tanzania for the purposes of obtaining water and fresh grazing grounds. These animals made a year-long journey, hitting certain areas during certain months; they cut down on grass that could lead to the spreading of wildfires, and their massive march brought with them seeds that planted new life in various places. Mother Nature was an awesome creator, and she saw to it that the wildebeest, zebras, and gazelles moved throughout the land at precise times to aid the balance of life… that was, until some jackass got his greedy, stubby fingers on the manifest and fucked the planet in its axis.” - Unknown
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile4 days ago in Fiction
The Attic. Top Story - September 2026.
The roof mice watched out of the little dormer window in the attic with growing excitement. Blue balloons were tied to the jolly scarecrow on the front lawn, bobbing gaily in the light fall breeze. A banner hung over the front door welcoming guests and a steady stream of visitors entered the house, each carrying baskets and gift bags in pretty pastel shades. A paunchy man huffed and puffed as he brought in a 5 ft stuffed giraffe wearing a satin bow. An older lady in a lilac two piece wheeled in a stroller festooned in curly ribbons. The mice from the dining room scampered upstairs to boast of all the delectable treats spread out on the table – jello and cakes, all manner of cheeses and cold cuts and fruit salads. They planned to sneak down later that night to see what morsels might remain for them to nibble on. Party days were always feast days for the mice.
By Angel Whelan6 days ago in Fiction
Not Today. Top Story - September 2026.
Stopping in front of the store doors, Paige checked inside her purse. Her paranoia calmed once Paige saw that her wallet was still in her purse. She smiled slightly as she grabbed the door handle. Only for the smile to disappear once the thought appeared that her credit card was not in the wallet. Even though she knew that shouldn’t be the case, Paige sighed as she let go of the door and opened her wallet. She felt relieved yet annoyed at her anxiety when she saw that her credit card was exactly where it should be.
By Rebecca Patton6 days ago in Fiction
Bah Humbug. Top Story - September 2026.
“Claudia,” John poked his head into the back-of-house office. “There’s a bunny in the parking lot.” Claudia did not turn from her computer. “I think you need to come investigate this.” “John, if you can’t handle a bunny, I don’t think you’re GM material.” Claudia laughed. She had taken John under her wing to show him the ropes of running a busy mall at the holidays. He might be able to hack it at a Pac Sun, but he would never fit into her shoes. He never missed a beat on the coffee runs, though, so she kept him around. “I think we might need to call the police.” “On a fucking rabbit?” The mall would be open in a couple of hours, and Claudia knew various store managers would be slowly arriving. Whatever was up John’s ass, she didn’t want it trickling down into the workday. It was twelve days before Christmas: the final sprint to the holiday shopping season was upon them.
By Cali Loria7 days ago in Fiction
The Funnel of Your Being. Top Story - September 2026.
There’s nothing worse than a city with a black eye. Hey, you! Wake up! You might think this is all sweet. It ain’t all good. There’s no love, luck, and lollipops in these streets. You see that blood-stained ground? That’s the result of another slain Delawarean in these Wilmington streets. If you see dozens of candles burning all around, it’s not out of festivity, but celebration of a four-year-old caught in the crosshairs of rival gang violence.
By Sky Saunders10 days ago in Fiction
