Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
"BY THE TIME IT GETS DARK"
"DISCLAIMER" "These characters in the story are fictional. The story is fiction based on actual experiences of the author. However, the story and characters are fictional and not all the story is based on actual experiences of the author.
Vicki Lawana TrusselliPublished 7 months ago in FictionMamma Called It, 'The Blues'.
The sunlight mocked her. Its dancing spirals of light, a vicious mime of all that she was not. She drew the heavy drapes across the bay windows, casting long, dark silhouettes across the parquet floor. She returned to her position at the far end of the tiny room, as far from the slanting shadow of light creeping through the central gap in the curtains as she could get. She perched on the edge of a velveteen armchair like a fragile finch, poised to take flight at any moment. Her long, auburn hair framed her ashen face, obscuring her dark eyes as she bowed her head, hands clasped together, focused on the movement of her fingers. Agitated.
The Accident
The night was cold and quiet. A gentle breeze carried snowflakes through the air, fluttering and light, a beautiful frozen ballet. The moon shown brightly in the vast cloudless sky surrounded by shimmering stars. The night appeared to be at peace.
Meg SloanePublished 7 months ago in FictionOut of the Shadows
SAMHAIN, November 1, 2024 "Sabete Latepo," chanted the high priestess. "Sabete Latepo," echoed twelve times around the encircled parchment and chicken heart laying on the sand. Splashes of fresh blood accented the handwritten words,
J. S. WadePublished 7 months ago in FictionMs. Abbott
It was the height of summer when even the evening winds blow warm and don’t offer much relief. We’d distract ourselves from the heat by runnin’ and hollerin’ like untamed creatures. We’d try and cool off with sips of lemonade our Mas made, and sips of beer offered by our Pas, when our Mas weren’t looking of course.
Aaron MorrisonPublished 7 months ago in FictionMy Little Monster
The pills have stopped working. I could feel myself growing stronger. I only took the pills to appease my uptight husband anyway. He had a problem with me looking the way I normally did on a regular basis. Yes, the pills kept me pretty, at least in his eyes, but they had side effects. They made me weaker, smaller, and reduced my senses like smell, sight and hearing. And I hated the way I looked on these pills, it’s not natural.
Alex H MittelmanPublished 7 months ago in FictionDeer Sissy
Cain't say no to a challenge from Heather! This is for the Write me a letter challenge. Deer Sissy, I jes thot I wood rite and ketch you up on things since you bin gone. By the way, this is me, just so you don't have to wait til the end to figger it out. Momma sez hi, and told me to hurry up cuz I gotta change her bath water soon. I guess this will be a short letter.
Dana CrandellPublished 7 months ago in FictionSat on the Bed
As we sat on the bed, just sitting on the edge of the bed. There was nothing we could say, nothing I could say to lessen the blunt force trauma our lives had received. Love was still in the air, I knew that much but grief was taking up space in the atmosphere too. So, we just sat. I knew she would talk when she needed to and while I needed to talk too, now was not the time. Now was the time for silent reflect and memorialising to the life that was lost. Now was the time to sit in the grief and let it wash over us. There is no point trying to hold back the tears or the anger. We are not a dam that can hold back a surge from the river. We could try, but if we did, we would just build up the force and strength of the grief.
Paul StewartPublished 7 months ago in FictionYou Can Do Magic
“You're the one that can put out the fire, you know darn well when you cast your spell you will get your way-” “PanDan, if you don't get your lollygagging tookus down here this instant and help us out, you'll get nothing for Samhain! And stop singing, you know how it might affect things!”
Meredith HarmonPublished 7 months ago in FictionGood Sexts
Please play the video above to read my story, "Good Sexts." I am also adding the story below for those who would rather read the story in traditional form.
Molodi (Whistle)
PART ONE The lingering darkness felt heavy as I dragged my body through the mud. I still heard the whistle, tormenting every living aspect of me but I fought through it, the same way I fought through to be embedded in this mud. He was real, he was so real, and I felt it with every breath that I took. After finally landing my body on the cold tar road, I stared ahead, feeling the stare of a crow nearby. I couldn’t scream, his grip still felt tight around my neck. It was almost like he left with me, almost like he had been there the whole time. “Help,” it came out as a whisper, something swallowed by the wind. “Anyone please,” the crow flew away. I bent my knees, in an attempt to stand up but I kept falling, over and over again. “Help please,” I repeated, hearing his whistle getting louder by the minutes. I was moving but it wasn’t fast enough. My own body felt too heavy, I was fighting the biggest losing battle.
Autumn Days
The pavement is pied with amber, russet, browns of every shade, its dirty grey now pooled with rough edged warmth, papering the fissures in rain slick copper and bronze. Our feet upon it step in time, the rhythm of many years of walking side by side, on spring bright grass, on summer scorched earth and on autumnal mulch, layers of leaf mould soft and giving beneath us. We have matured together, stride for stride, and delight in this easy symbiance even as we take it for granted now. Weaving our bodies, more stiffly that when our spines were fresh and sinuous, around the wooden kissing gate and into the glow of the wood at the end of the lane, we both start to listen for familiar sounds, the soft curring bass of the wood pigeons, the liquid treble of the goldfinch, the shrill pips of the robins, but always, the soft footfalls of the other, the shifts in attention, the breath, the ever present breath.
Hannah MoorePublished 7 months ago in Fiction