Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Diary of the Last Teenage Girl on Earth:
Thursday, October 27, 2022 I am writing in a diary on paper, with a pen – how primitive - something I wouldn’t have thought I would ever do, with my Mac Note Book. But, it is all I have now, and I have to organize my thoughts, and writing always helped me think clearer, as if that it possible now in this crazy world.
Brittany SmithPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Place of Memories
Laughter echoed through the air, the sound light and happy. "It's not that hard, sunshine!" Meredith turned her scowl on her boyfriend, who grinned down at her sheepishly and held up his hands in surrender.
Ivy WynterPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Laundress and the Spinning Wheel
“Mother, what’s this device?” The old laundress turned away from her wash to inspect the drawing her young daughter held out to her. “That is nothing but an old spinning wheel, love,” Mother said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Flash of Light
Alice stared off into space while she waited. Her first day back to work had been harrowing to say the least. Had she actually said, just days prior, that she missed work and couldn’t wait to get back to it? What had she been thinking? And now, when she just wanted to be back home, it seemed like she was going to be stuck at the crosswalk. It couldn’t take this long for the pedestrian walk light to change to green, even though she had just missed the last one. What was taking so long? Why did the universe seemingly not want her to get home? What was the hol- It’s green!
V J WiatrowskiPublished 3 years ago in Fiction10,000 Pounds
Abuse can be so incredibly difficult to recognise at times. Especially when it’s so close and personal that it’s impossible to step back and see the big picture for what it really is. Maggie knew her boyfriend was a sadistic, controlling sociopath, but a part of her had always been in denial about it. So she let his passive aggressive comments burn into her skin, day after day, as pieces of her were chipped and chiselled away.
J. R. LowePublished 3 years ago in FictionBugs Of The Night, Together Burn Bright
Why is it that bugs fly to a flame? I thought it was the light. We are fickle things, bumbling in the darkness most of our lives, so when a beacon lights, we float toward it without thinking. We don’t know the source of the light beaming brightly in the night, nor the consequence of following it, but the journey draws us.
Eloise RobertsonPublished 3 years ago in FictionEl Amor
Mariposa sat at the small table in a café in Tarragona, Spain, patiently awaiting her date's arrival and hoping he would appear soon. Tarragona, though somewhat small, was a busy city due to the bullfights, and it was possible that Santiago had been delayed by unforeseen events since he worked at the Tarraco Arena where the bullring was located. Mariposa reassured herself he would arrive shortly. He had promised her that tonight would be a very special evening. The two had known each other for a year, but they had never been on an actual date until this evening.
Cindy CalderPublished 3 years ago in FictionAura
“How’s the color today, Missy?” Missy smiled weakly as she paid for her coffee. “Same as always.” Benjamin, Missy’s barista, winked, the smile wrinkles around his eyes crinkling. “It’s gonna change. It’s gonna change.”
Elizabeth Pugh RuizPublished 3 years ago in FictionHer Favorite Flower
Her favorite flowers were marigolds. In those halcyon days of summer past, we would run through fields full of all manners of wild flowers, but with every marigold she spotted she would stop, stoop low and take a deep breath. I can still see her there, in that periwinkle blue sun dress, turning back to me with a look of pure exultation. Happy to simply be alive! I can see her there, in those drowsy, endless summers, laughing and squealing with delight, with the purest pleasure at the simple fact that we existed at the same time, the same place, and that there were marigolds there too. A little slice of her own personal heaven.
David JamesPublished 3 years ago in FictionYellow, Yellow, Yellow
The sun beat down hot and heavy in the sky, the shadows on the ground were slimming. He’d be here soon. Tree tops swayed in the breeze as the bees carried out their pollination. The meadow was small yet open. I ran my fingers through the thin blades of grass surrounding my feet, knees tucked under my chin.
Miles VaessenPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Lost Witch
There’s this feeling, that I cannot resist. When the sun delicately caresses you, and the breeze brushes past, rustling the trees on its way. The early stages of summer, when the cold is on its way out, and basking under the warmth of a rejuvenated sun is blissful.
Ariane TorelliPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Flower of Flame
It was my 16th birthday. I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the unlit candles on my cake. My mom sat next to me, waiting for my grandma to arrive. I ran my fingers through my hair as we waited: it felt strange, having such short hair now. I’d gotten it cut yesterday, wanting to reinvent myself now that I was turning 16.
Sephy AtlasPublished 3 years ago in Fiction