Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Death, interrupted
Kirn's death is rudely interrupted by a droning sound outside the house. Screwing her eyes shut tighter, she draws a labored breath. It doesn't matter, she reminds herself, there's nothing out there: as the last human on Earth, she's certain of this much. This sound must be an illusion, some auditory hallucination from dehydration. It means she's nearly there, finally one foot in the grave! Appeased, she pushes her hand over the bed sheets to squeeze Ashami's cold arm. She only manages a caress, but that's enough to draw them closer together: they were linked in life, and soon they shall be in death too.
Claire GuérinPublished 6 days ago in FictionSecond Place in The Aquarium Challenge
Saltwater
The lights are blinding. Red, blue, white, flickering, flashing. Alarms blaring. The floors are slick with salt and blood and glisten under the warning beacons. They’re covered in broken glass.
C. StachowPublished 20 days ago in Fiction
The Dance
The brush of the broom slowly drifting back and forth across the dappled gray floor created a sort of lulling melody. One many would deem a monotonous or perhaps dull annoyance, but Sam thought it was impressive in its simplicity.
Heather HublerPublished 17 days ago in FictionAlternate Reality: Gaston's Story
To my loving daughter, Belevia, My only goal in raising you was to ensure you had the future you deserved, a path paved by your own free will, and not by what is expected of you. You can have a family and be a wife and mother, like your mother and the women around you, or you can venture out of this town, and explore the world, defy the limitations others try to push onto you. Or...really who says you can’t be a mother and explore the world at the same time? You can do anything you set your mind to. However, I fear I may not live to see the adventures you set out on. After I have passed I want to leave you with one final story, of how I met, and lost, the one woman I truly loved.
Victoria RiveraPublished 7 days ago in Fiction
Waiting to go to School
Malika wrapped her small fingers around the stainless steel tumbler for warmth as she stepped into the crisp, foggy mountain dawn. Her bare feet gently thudded on the ground as she moved to sit on the stair that surrounded the one-room mud hut she called home.
R. J. RaniPublished 9 days ago in FictionSecond Place in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
Qapkas
Everything was orange, starting with the trees that ringed the clearing: aspen, birch, cottonwood, maple, and the larches whose needles paled to gold every Fall.
Jen GossooPublished 27 days ago in Fiction- Second Place in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
Ember and Sky
The smell reached her first. It wasn’t her kind, nor was it Elven or Dwarf. She’d smelled this scent only a few times before; the first time was long ago when her dam taught her to hunt and track. They’d come across a wide trail that cut through a lush pine thicket. Her dam stilled her before she could move forward into the clearing.
Kelly BelmontPublished about a month ago in Fiction - First Place in Christopher Paolini's Fantasy Fiction Challenge
The Rain Maiden
A thousand years ago a drought plagued the village of Shan Yu. Not a drop of rain had fallen on the village in three years. Believing Shangdi was angry with the villagers, they danced in his name, praying for storms and rain to fall on Shan Yu. But after dancing for seven days and seven nights, not a single cloud appeared in the sky.
M. Fritz WunderliPublished 2 months ago in Fiction 
Hook's Hand
James Bartholomew Hook stood at the helm, watching as the ship grew larger on the horizon. His first mate stood at his side, squinting through the spyglass.
Devin DowningPublished 24 days ago in FictionThe Fly, The Dragon And The Unstoppable Magic Of Love
“What I’d give to be a fly on that wall, to be an unnoticed observer of a particular situation.” If I had a pile of dung for every time, I’ve heard that, I’d be a happy fly. Wanting to know the ins and outs of someone else’s private life, seems to be the wishes of many- but let me tell you- being an actual fly on some of these walls is not for the faint of heart.
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 27 days ago in FictionBecoming a Stone Skipper
Ringlets formed and reflected one after the other as the sunlight beamed across the lake on my grandparent’s property. My grandfather had just cast his first stone. We both watched intensely as the smooth flat granite moved across the water lightly touching down before it bounced to another surface and formed more mirrored rings. The autumn leaves covered much of the water and rocks. Even though it was only just after six in the evening the sun was already setting, as November was bringing its shorter days. The brisk air spoke of change, and light caressed each rock that skipped to a final landing.
C. H. RichardPublished about a month ago in Fiction
Phoebe's Ride
Every Saturday Phoebe rode her bike. Morning or evening, she would find herself taking out her blue bicycle and knotting her hair low enough to fit her helmet comfortably.
Bec FletcherPublished 28 days ago in Fiction
