Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you'll love, handpicked by our team.
The End of The Row. Top Story - October 2026.
It’s bright in this room, almost dazzlingly so. That cold, astringent bright that throbs behind your eye balls and puckers your brow. Clinical bright. Bright enough to make the tears begin to simmer, to make you pause, close your eyes against the light, repeat the words you’ve been saying to yourself since last night, last week, last month, “it’ll be over before you know it, you won’t feel a thing”. Except it turns out it wasn’t pain you were worried about, not really, not the physical kind, not the burn or the sting or the tearing kind. It was this other kind, the kind you’re feeling now, the kind where your heart is hammering against the inside of your sternum, a rhythm so quick and a beat so fast you don’t know if you’ll make it, hammering so you can hear it fill up your skull with its din, hammering so you don’t know if your ribs might crack and your heart might burst into bloody remnants inside your chest. This kind, where you can feel the breath coming fast, in and out, in and out, cold and raw in the passages of your nose, sound like bellows huffing as your nostrils flare and push and your head begins to spin and you wonder whether a drop of air is making it to your lungs, or if you might pass out through lack of it. The kind where your vision narrows and you can see in razor sharpness the line where the linoleum meets the painted brick, wipe clean floors and wipe clean walls, and the wipe clean window onto black nothing, and then the thought, some part of your mind still curious in all the chaos, “I wonder if they thought green would be a calming colour.”
By Hannah Moore18 days ago in Fiction
Party. Top Story - October 2026.
Standing in this cavernous room, dwarfed by the vaulted ceilings and feeling as small as the coconut shrimp, you realize you've no business throwing a party in honour of yourself. The vast grey linoleum floor makes your sparkly flats look like tiny doll shoes. And you feel like a little girl in a frilly dress, waiting for your friends to come through the door.
By Marie Wilson19 days ago in Fiction
Whatcha' Doin?. Top Story - October 2026.
Pardon me, but what exactly are you doing here? You keep invading this space, regardless of the fact that you're clearly not naturally equipped for it. Biologically, that is. Your long, narrow body. Those long, mutated appendages, evolved to facilitate grasping on one end and locomotion on the other. To be honest, your locomotion in your own environment isn't exactly elegant.
By Dana Crandell18 days ago in Fiction
Blameless in a mad world. Honorable Mention in You Are Here Challenge. Top Story - October 2026.
It would have been nice to have had advanced notice that Optix Automation, the company you work for, would be shutting down for two and a half months, effective immediately.
By Lamar Wiggins18 days ago in Fiction
The Pink Gallery. Honorable Mention in You Are Here Challenge. Top Story - October 2026.
You knew the Livingston Hotel was a place of old, upfront luxury. Black marble floors and pillars decorated its lobby, wrapped around a double-sided hearth, and sneaked their way right up to the front door where everyone could window shop a life they could never have. Its hearth was never without a strong fire in its belly or men circled around its glow.
By Silver Daux19 days ago in Fiction
