Top Stories
New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
Moths to a Flickering Light
At night we used to walk for hours. After dark, the light was strange on the west side of the city. The whiff of sulfur came from the streetlamps. They glowed a poisonous orange color that robbed the skin of its beauty and the sky of its stars. A cheap form of lighting, or so they said.
Amethyst QuPublished 2 years ago in HorrorGiving and Receiving Feedback
My own writing has improved, in my opinion, by leaps and bounds over the last year or so. Why is that? My theory is that it has a lot to do with the critiquing of work that I’ve both given and received.
KJ AartilaPublished 2 years ago in JournalHer Space
The warmth of his body, she is the size of a child in his arms as she melts into him. A long, deep breath he makes in slumber, tickling the base of her neck,
Jess BoyesPublished 2 years ago in PoetsNuggets
I’m a proud Tokyoite and have been for my 5 years living here. The alley I live on provides cozy spots to curl up for a nap, a variety of delicious scraps, and sometimes a passerby will give me a nice scratch on my back. I purr and rub against their leg and they might even give me a bit of their tuna sandwich. Unlike my alley-mates, I’m not scared of people. I’m the only one who knows my human given name, Takeo. When I was very young I lived with some folks and they were kind to me, but they were an elderly couple. They passed away a year apart from each other. The lady of the house fed me well and let me do as I please for the last year of her life. I had been mostly an indoor cat but I think she sensed my desire for the great outdoors. I was out roaming the streets when she took her last breath. I mourned her passing, but I expected it and we cats accept death better than humans.
Ryan McCombsPublished 2 years ago in Petlife- Second Place in Get Comfortable Challenge
Loss and Gain
I enter your fifth grade classroom. It’s writing festival and you’ve written an “I am” poem. “I am from never give up even if you can’t take it.”
F Cade SwansonPublished 2 years ago in Poets - Second Place in 24/7 Companion Challenge
Memento Amare
They say you don't know what you have till it's gone, but that was never true for you. We knew exactly what we had, and somehow that makes it so much harder.
Kelly RobertsonPublished 2 years ago in Petlife from the mouths of ghosts
i want you to jump into my bones. two fingers prodding at my lips rugged drag the beating heart back up my neck & pull it out my mouth
ghostsandrebelsPublished 2 years ago in PoetsA Moment of Magic
Her little hand is close in mine, I squeeze it as we near the time: Our full attention, A ball of gold, Sinking in the mirror sea.
Britni PepperPublished 2 years ago in Poets- First Place in Get Comfortable Challenge
Walking the Dog in Winter
The tree holds sky between its branches— a cloud and a blue so intense it reminds me of summer, as if it’s possible for a dying,
Lori LamothePublished 2 years ago in Poets - First Place in 24/7 Companion Challenge
Searching for the Light
There are moments in life, so fleeting and seemingly mundane, that it is only upon later reflection that we understand their profound significance. This is my journey to that moment.
Hungry Scavenger
The world smells so good when you're hungry, like the malevolent phantoms in the cartoons I can feel the aromas pulling me towards these places. The intoxicating scent of Mexican spices, the comfortable aromas of the good old American burger, and the nostalgic smell of simple unhealthy foods from the fast food joints. But then those same feelings can turn into a miserable assault on the senses when I have no money to buy even a single item off the value menu. And it suddenly turns the feelings of comfort and nostalgia into jealousy and hate. I'm jealous of the people inside the restaurant. I hate how they throw away plates with food left over. My stomach hurts.
Jacob HaroldPublished 2 years ago in PoetsGobbits
The children knew when danger was coming. They could feel it under their feet. It was a particular tickle, and each of the little ones knew to scatter, all except his little sister, Anxia. Grimith sighed under his breath. Some days, everything about her that he found endearing also seemed determined to lead to her early death. Grimith could now feel the vibrations of the alarm drums shift from the frenzied beat that demanded awareness to the steady rhythm for readiness.
The Twisted Tale of a Wilted White Rose.
Fresh. This tabula rasa of its sort was my chance to redeem myself. Show the world, and I, that I had purpose in living. Existing. I had become so much of a survivor, in the previous settling of events, that I had forgotten how much of 'me' I was initially.
Jed KimaniPublished 2 years ago in JournalThe Orchard Boy
It was packed full of people at the Hutcherson farm on October 20th, 2013. It was a Sunday, meaning each family had their children out and picked apples for the day. The line to get in wasn't that long, having due to a traffic guard right in the middle to guide each of us. Once parked, everyone would leave their vehicles and head straight toward the orchard.
Playoffs? Are You Kidding Me?
Hello readers, I hope you all have been enjoying my recent posts. It’s been a while since I’ve written an NFL blog, but I’ve decided to give it another try. We are almost a third of the way through the 2022-23 NFL season and so far, there have been a handful of teams that did not make the postseason last year but have showed some noticeable improvement and/or displayed flashes of upside that seem to indicate they could be contenders when January arrives. I’ve identified seven such teams and consulted my (imaginary) magic eight ball to seek answers to the question… will (insert team name here) make the playoffs this season?
Michael KinnalyPublished 2 years ago in UnbalancedSorceress Part 2
A knock on the front door interrupted my mid-morning book time. I glanced at my mug. Barely half of my tea was gone and it was still pretty warm. I’m so not ready for social interaction yet, I thought. I haven’t even finished my tea. Not nearly enough caffeine is in my system. Ugh. But I had to answer the door. Not many knew that I had Rowena and Duncan here with me, and most people didn’t react well to the sight of Brownies, which hurt both of my friends feelings, though they were very good at hiding that.
Iris Meets the Dragon
Iris Meets the Dragon The Dragon, big and powerful Gave the girl a fright She stood in total silence, Forgotten was her plight
KJ AartilaPublished 2 years ago in PoetsFinding Family
I'm at that age where most of my older memories of the past have that fuzzy quality to them. The finer details remain unfocused, stolen over time. Scenes and images flash by in a blur, the memories fluid. Some I wish I could just grasp in my hands and hold tight, allowing the chance to reminisce a bit, but they slip through like sand. Others I would love to banish from my mind forever, no amount of "lesson-learned" a lure enough to keep them.
Heather HublerPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsWho's this letter for?
No one knows her as I do. Only I witnessed her smile the way I do. Only I saw her cry the way she did. Only I see the pain she has to endure.
serious_mysteriousPublished 2 years ago in PoetsMonte Cristo Homestead in Junee, New South Wales, Australia
I wrote about a true crime case a while back that took place in Australia in the 1940s that continues to boggle minds today. This is my first dive into a haunted house in Australia, though. The entire continent has a long and rich history, going back at least 65,000 years of indigenous Australians. Travel with me now as we head over to look at a place known as Australia’s most haunted house in New South Wales, the Monte Cristo Homestead.
J.A. HernandezPublished 2 years ago in Horror