Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
- Content Warning
Bridge Over Troubled Water
At 29, you'd think I would have felt an overabundance of emotion by now. But, I haven’t. Each day, I maneuvered mechanically neither awake nor sleep. My life has been one dimensional and gray. It's been lukewarm. And it's essence has completely passed me by. My name is Gabriel. And this is my story.
Jennifer DavidPublished 2 months ago in Fiction T w o - F a c e d
"For now on, "Suki Kawaza" is you." She caresses her check with both hands. "I don't want you to die." "I'm going to be a beautiful ghost, Suki."
Destination of a Writer.
I need something happy to happen–like right now. I can’t find it in the sun or the moon or the stars like I usually do. I need something terrible to happen. I need to break out of this mould I am trapped in. I need to feel something, anything, just not nothing. What happened to the clouds? Or my thoughts when I looked at the clouds? I used to see it differently–this world. So what happened? Where did it go wrong? Is it wrong, or am I wrong? They look like…white wisps of…nothing.
Monday
“Next!” She did not mean to shout, but she knew what the morning would be like. The people waiting in line would be buying stamps, picking up packages, check post office boxes, etc…and then buying whatever groceries they could find in the drugstore before heading to the café or the metro. The day they decided to put her job in the middle of the brightness of a drugstore was the day she should have quit. But she was still here, after the move, wearing the uniform that indicated some level of responsibility and experience.
Kendall DefoePublished 2 months ago in FictionThe Ghost of Paganini
My father was propped up in his bed, the ivory coverlet pulled up to his chest. Even after the weeks of chemo had ended, I was always shocked by his appearance, his bald head and missing eyebrows making him almost unrecognizable. He looked at the ragged man that I led into the room through puffy eyes, the sides of his mouth turned downwards in disappointment at the man’s appearance.
Adrift
It was day nine, by Marcus’s count. He and Terrance had already spent eight days on the yellow life raft afloat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There had only been six survivors that surfaced after their plane crash-landed in the water. Together, they had secured three of the life rafts that had been aboard the aircraft and had divided themselves up - two per raft. They had tied the buoyant vessels together, but in the storm, on day four, the rope connecting Marcus and Terrance’s raft to the others came loose. Now, they were separated from the rest of the group with no way to signal for help since the flare gun was in one of the other rafts.
D.K. ShepardPublished 3 months ago in Fiction- Content Warning
Endurance
Ryan sat resting his head on the glass, his breath misting and obscuring the fast-flowing hedges outside of the window. He retreated into his world of splayed hair and hot breath while the other kids on the bus shouted and laughed, shoved and teased.
Rachel DeemingPublished 2 months ago in Fiction The Willow
We never spoke to those identified as human. I watched, silently, as many selected my brothers to cull. We watched their amorous youths carve words into our bark. We screamed as fire burned our waists, heating and crackling our sap. We watch as their children gather our fallen branches to make games. We watch as some pick up stone and our seeds to keep. Every now and then, we whisper, making them listen as wind drifts through our leaves and needles, hearing our warnings of the woods.
Jennisea RedfieldPublished 2 months ago in FictionPrimordial Fish
In the beginning, all was, frankly, well. Then, Mother Earth discharged intrepid fish from her primordial stew. Eventually, they grew hair, made fire, ate some apples.
Matthew FrommPublished 2 months ago in FictionA Herd of Unicorn Stories
Holy Meat Unholy Consequences “Such a shame for something so innocently pure to have its life cut so short.” “That it truly is,” Marigold responded to Jeffrey. “Still, we it needs processing. You know as they say.”
Thavien YliasterPublished 3 months ago in FictionThe Clock
############################################### The following are all fictional snippets of life's crucial moments caught by a time machine called a "clock." Whether we are controlled by time or we seek to control time, we are all subject to the meaning it conveys. Time reminds us there are forces at work beyond what we see. It is concretely set. As the adage says, it waits for no man. Time is a teacher. Time can be joyous or sad; the clock is very fickle and isn't at all prejudicial. It isn't fair, but then again, it really is...It's a vicious dictator and also a loving friend who reminds us to sleep, eat, and rise again for another day. The clock reminds us that we are spinning around constantly. In all of our spinning, we are chided to slow down, speed up, or stay in control. Until one day we cease to spin at all.
Shirley BelkPublished 3 months ago in Fiction- Content Warning
What Goes Around
July 27, 2023 Kamloops, British Columbia Karma Lowe had been losing in court all day. Outwardly stoic, she resisted the urge to tap her steel-tipped Jimmy Choo, but she was starting to sweat cold. Of this she knew Crown prosecutor, Ignacious Noble, was well aware.
S. E. LinnPublished 2 months ago in Fiction