Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Humor.
Beneath the willow . Content Warning.
**Title: Beneath the Willow** The small town of Willowbrook was known for its charm—quaint little shops, winding cobblestone streets, and a massive ancient willow tree that stood guard by the riverbank. It was here, beneath the drooping branches of the willow, that two lovers found their refuge from the world. Ella and Lucas were inseparable since childhood, their bond deepening as they navigated the complexities of adolescence. Their laughter echoed through the branches of the willow, and their secrets were shared under its canopy. But as time marched on, life began to pull them in different directions. Ella dreamed of attending art school in the city, her passion for painting pushing her to seek new horizons. Lucas, on the other hand, felt the weight of family obligations and the looming expectation to stay in Willowbrook, working at his family’s hardware store. One fateful spring afternoon, as petals danced in the breeze, the lovers sat beneath the willow, hearts filled with an unspeakable tension. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on their entwined hands. “Ella,” Lucas began, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to go. This is your chance.” Ella looked into his deep brown eyes, searching for reassurance. “But what about us?” she asked, the lump in her throat growing larger. “We’ll always have this,” he said, gesturing around them. “The memories, the moments. But you have to follow your dreams. I can’t hold you back.” Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded, knowing he was right yet fearing the distance that would surely come. Lucas leaned in, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Promise me you’ll paint the world.” In that moment, they sealed their unspoken vow with a gentle kiss, one that tasted like both love and heartbreak. As the sun dipped below the horizon, they both felt the yawning chasm of what lay ahead. The city welcomed Ella with open arms, its vibrant streets pulsating with life. She poured her heart into her art, each stroke of paint a piece of herself she left behind in Willowbrook. Yet, despite her newfound freedom, her heart felt heavy with an emptiness only Lucas could fill. Each night, as she stood in front of her easel, she found herself painting the willow tree, a bittersweet reminder of the love they once shared. Lucas, meanwhile, took to the hardware store, filling his days with work and his nights with memories. He would often go to the riverbank, sitting beneath their willow, reminiscing about Ella’s laughter and the way her eyes sparkled under the sun. He craved her presence but buried himself in tasks to dismiss the loneliness clawing at his heart. Months passed, each day a tug-of-war between dreams and memories. Ella received a call one evening, the sound of Lucas's voice igniting a warmth inside her. “I miss you,” he admitted, the confession hanging in the air. “I miss you too,” she replied, biting her lip. “Can you come home for a while?” he asked, hope lacing his tone. “I’ll be there.” A surge of determination coursed through her. Ella needed to see him. When the day finally arrived, she rushed to the willow, heart racing at the thought of seeing him again. As she approached, she caught a glimpse of his familiar silhouette, and her breath caught in her throat. Lucas turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “I thought you would never come back,” he said, a smile breaking across his face. “I couldn’t stay away any longer,” she breathed, and they fell into each other’s arms, a perfect fit as if no time had passed. As they stood beneath the willow tree once more, the gentle breeze whispered through the leaves, and they knew then that true love doesn’t diminish with distance. It grows, reshaping its roots deeper into the heart, reconnecting the souls that were meant to be together. With laughter in the air and dreams still soaring, Ella and Lucas found their way back to each other, under the very tree that witnessed their love story unfold.
By Testimony Anuoluwaabout a year ago in Humor
On a Peculiar Morning
Ever since I can remember I have had this crush on mountains. Perhaps because when I was still in the womb my parents would go hiking; perhaps because as a kid I could always relate to Heidi, living surrounded by buildings rather than beautiful peaks. I always felt this Heimweh that did not last long: as soon as I could, I went as far as my legs would let me: to the Pyrenees, to the Rockies, to the Alps.
By Laura Rodbenabout a year ago in Humor
The Spring Day
The brisk air filled my lungs when I opened the door to check the weather, a sharp contrast from the warmth of my home. The early morning and its bitter glory, a spring symphony of chill and an awakening to another day. I had to zipper my jacket around just to leave, to fight against the biting cold. My cushioned water bottle and lunch were tucked under my arm, their weight a reminder of the drive and the day ahead. As I went to set the alarm, the metallic click echoed in the stillness. I quickly looked to ensure everything was ready as I left my wallet in my room without the familiar bulge of reassurance. I was so sure that I left my room with everything I needed to go to work. My rapid move upstairs just to get to my wallet, then back down to finally leave, I went for my keys. They were also not in my pocket either, so I placed everything back down to recover them. Finally, I had everything I needed to leave and set the alarm. It announces in the most annoying voice, but at least it protects the house when I am gone.
By Sarah Danaherabout a year ago in Humor
Just Walking My Dog
Bob yanked the dog leash from the tabletop. It slipped from his butter-covered fingers, but he managed to catch it in a heartbeat while also smacking his knuckle on the underside of the wood. Sucking in the pain (and his pride) he gestured to the door. “Come on, Muggles,” he said. “Time for walkies.”
By Euan Brennanabout a year ago in Humor
Immersive Art
Unlocking my front door, I entered my apartment and slammed the door as hard as I could. I was sent home early from work because I was placed on administrative leave for the third time this year, and it was only March. Well, at least it was still with pay, but one more infraction for whatever reason this quarter, and human resources told me they’d have to terminate my employment. To say I was pissed was an understatement, though.
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Humor
Egg-stra-sized . Runner-Up in Absurdist Awakening Challenge.
That time I went to Toronto for a weekend visit with my friends, the drive back didn’t go as expected. Whenever I am in Canada, I stock up on Canadian honey and snacks at Costco. I’m not the only American doing that. There are no Costco stores around Buffalo, so when I shop at the Niagara Falls Costco, I see many cars with the US plates.
By Lana V Lynxabout a year ago in Humor
Catfish Secrets and Scorpio Shenanigans
Catfish, Secrets, and Scorpio Shenanigans: My Facebook Dating Chronicles" So there I was, navigating the treacherous waters of Facebook Dating (which, let’s be honest, is like online shopping for disasters). Enter Patrick, who presented himself as a Navy man — I mean, who doesn't love a uniform? I pictured us in romantic, tropical locales where I could wear sun hats and sip on coconut water while he saved the world. But hold up, y’all... something was off.
By Dakota Denise about a year ago in Humor
Goose Games. Honorable Mention in Absurdist Awakening Challenge.
It had been a long week. A long week at the end of a long month. Eighty percent of Marc's paycheck had been dumped into bills, gas, and groceries. The boss was crawling up his ass over a shipment of lawn flamingos that hadn't arrived at its destination on time. (How urgent could lawn flamingos be? Apparently very.) The cherry on top of the shit sundae was that he had failed to compliment Zach's new haircut with the requisite enthusiasm the other day. A grave sin which he would not soon hear the end of. Marc checked his bank account. Two hundred bucks with four pending charges. By his calculations that gave him about sixty to screw around with. But what to do? Sixty was enough for a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, but he didn't really feel like trying to placate Zach with a date. Especially after he'd stirred up an attitude tsunami over something so stupid. You want a genuine compliment? Maybe don't pay three hundred bucks to shave a portrait of Mao Zedong smoking a blunt onto the side of your head. Sixty dollars could get him thoroughly wasted and purchase a burger, but Marc didn't like the sound of spending Saturday in recovery. What he was really craving was comfort. Nostalgia.
By Daniel Bradburyabout a year ago in Humor
Learning with laugh and Humor
Laughter is one the things that will keep my soul and spirit alive and happy as much as possible everyday and night. I always love to have an adventure with joyful, excitement, and laughter. I also love an something is making me laugh even when I’m feeling down. This is quite challenging for me by making a humor story. It was also surreal, unique, and mysterious about what are my comical adventures from birth to thirty-six.
By Meghan LeVaughn about a year ago in Humor
The Great Grocery Rebellion: When Tomatoes Take a Stand
The Day That Started Normally (Or So I Thought) Have you ever walked into a grocery store expecting nothing but a quick errand, only to find yourself in the middle of an existential crisis—or worse, a full-scale rebellion led by sentient produce? No? Well, buckle up. This is the tale of how my ordinary trip to the supermarket turned into a bizarre adventure involving talking vegetables, philosophical debates with a disgruntled cashier, and a cart that refused to cooperate.
By Alain SUPPINIabout a year ago in Humor
