Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Greetings From The Centre of the World
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Was it? "Good morning Creator of The Waves," said the reflection to the other.
Lisa A LachapellePublished 4 days ago in FictionSick of You
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The reflection frightened me so much, I knocked the mirror to the ground and it shattered.
Alex H MittelmanPublished 5 days ago in Fiction
Fish
It wasn't the fins that frightened her so. Not the gaping gills, or the slimy skin, or the way the scales were lined like rows of teeth...like pretty little pearls that could bite. Not even the smell, pungent as the stench of her childhood home.
Em StarrrrrPublished 8 days ago in FictionRumpeledforeskin
Ever since I was a young lad, my only goal in life was to be a member of The Elementals. Instead, I ended up more of a stage prop for a garage band. I have the antics of St. Patrick’s Day to blame. Or perchance it is the ancient curse passed down from my arrogant ancestor Rumpelstiltskin.
Stephanie J. BradberryPublished 6 days ago in Fiction
Momma
“The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own,” I whispered to Edward later that dusky early midnight hour. The mirror always felt like a tool that could help me. It could show me what I wanted. I could be the man I needed to be. That I was meant to be.
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 7 days ago in Fiction
The Lost Fawn
The little, lost fawn opened her eyes and took in the sight of the tall, long grass. As it swayed in the African breeze, the last rays of the sunset beamed across the savannah and wrapped the small of her back in a warm, motherly hug.
The Bear Witness of Climate Change
The congressional environmental committee had been engaged in deep debate over climate change; the democrats were determined to lower America’s dependency on fossil fuels, while the republicans insisted on their Trumpian position to protect the use of coal and oil. Suddenly the lockdown alarms blared wildly throughout the building. The senators waited patiently for an announcement through the PA system on what the possible threat is, but the intercom produced static in response. The committee fell into a wordless atmosphere with fear replacing the heat of the debate. No one dared to speak.
Iris HarrisPublished 8 days ago in Fiction
for the day is long
Fish don’t understand the concept of small talk. You’d think they’d be better at it, especially the ones who spend most of their days in bowls or tanks or whatever zoological imprisonment looks best in a teenager’s bedroom. That whole “goldfish have a five second memory span” myth really screwed them over when it came to living arrangements. You’d think they’d be more bitter. Or bored.
The Plights of the Agriculture Integrity Department
Bluebell trots between two waves of travelers who roll like caterpillars toward customs check. Our vests are green with black, but she wears a blue one, with Agriculture Integrity Dept stitched in gold. I grab her by the collar. Bluebell is petite, with short hair colored in tranquil shades of chocolat noir and cafe latte, but now she pulls with the force of a small tractor at harvest time. It’s noon, and I haven’t fed her yet. Who’s better at sniffing artisan blood sausage than a trained beagle? A hungry trained beagle.
Balthazar At The End Of The Night
The city of Ananias was bathed in the lilac of a coming dawn, casting the stone buildings in an ethereal glow. Balthazar padded slowly along the cobbled road with Imma beside him. It was only a few more streets until the two tigers would reach the barracks and be able to pass on their duties to the next set of guards. Balthazar was more than ready for rest.
Susanna KiernanPublished 9 days ago in FictionWhy Do I Bite Your Leg?
I see how they look at me. How they coil when I move. How they squirm like they would seeing a toothless man suck on a crunchy chicken thigh attempting to bite it.
Speak
She walked through the noisy isles of the shelter slowly, weaving her way through the Saturday crowd as non-invasively as possible while still trying to peruse all of the dogs on display. Wherever possible, she knelt down to offer pats, smiling and cooing at the eager occupants wagging their tails. Heartbreak leaked through her smile, meeting the eyes of every dog as though to say, I'd take you all with me if I could.
Kelly RobertsonPublished 9 days ago in Fiction
