Top Stories
New stories you'll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
Remember. Runner-Up in What Comes Back Challenge. Top Story - September 2024.
Stepping from the shower, swathing your soft folds in the towel warm from the rack, she’s there in the tiny pinkness of feet through the steam, toes wiggling, head bowed over her apple belly and her own yellow towel never wrapped; always hooked cape-like by the hood on the damp head, little bear ears perked and no idea yet what nakedness is, not weighted with the care of it, and when you go before the mirror—in the second before you look—you believe with all the tired songbird in your chest there’ll be no reflection, then laugh at yourself: you never feared being undead, but the first blink shows you smooth, dark brows and unclouded eyes, and the silence becomes everything; the hunting silence like the moment before the killing strike of an owl when something—not you—already knows you will soon die, and it’s not until the second blink shows you colourless hair and deep lines around faded lips that held breath can whistle free between teeth the colour of silver birch bark—happy birthday, Dear—in the bedroom she lays out your history while you shrug into your cardigan; jeans with shredded knees and shit-kicker boots, and that time you wore nothing but dungarees: layers and layers of clothes like the shed leaves of a tree, and on the terrace, there again, she lies in your lifetime of summer sun, straw hat shading her shade of your face, while you walk among wildflowers she planted with slender, clever fingers for these your fading, golden years, and breathe the air, and remember they are the ghosts, not you, not yet.
By Lauren Everdell2 years ago in Poets
Evelyn. Runner-up in Small Kindness Challenge. Top Story - September 2024.
The McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act is a federal law that protects the educational rights of children and youth experiencing homelessness. The act was signed into law by President Ronald Reagan on July 22, 1987 and serves thousands of needy children each year.
By Cindy Calder2 years ago in Psyche
My Friend Rooney. Top Story - September 2024.
My friend Rooney is an Irishman. He drinks in a surprising methodical regimen. You can time him as the barkeep noted long ago. I see Garrett look at the clock, fetch another glass, fill it, then nod his head up, lockin’ eyes with Rooney. Rooney points his finger in appreciation. And then he tells a tale. He does like to tell tales, no Joyce, no Swift, but he keeps your faith with each new one. Once, when he was going through his divorce, the end of his first marriage, and the two of us were polluted at Garrett's. He told me this one of a well to do couple very much in love, but doomed. The wife had continuous fits of jealousy and also more than her share of vanity. She hired a chambermaid, a fair of face chambermaid. Her husband, who always appreciated beauty, would say behind his wife’s back that she hired the maid for her outward qualities. She wanted, per the husband, a pretty chambermaid as all things around her must be beautiful and, so she could yell at her husband for lookin’. The husband was a catch too, which also kept up her vanity and her jealousy. Anyways, after she hired the maid, the wife made sure her husband and maid were never left alone together. If he would go to the kitchen using some excuse, she would follow or call the maid to her. For six years she continued her vigilance until one day at the public bath house she realised that she had forgotten her silver wash basin and sent the maid to fetch it. The wife neglected that her husband was due back from work any minute and the maid ran home, recognizing the wife’s mistake. The two met at the front door. Without a word they went inside and embraced in a passion so quick they did not latch the door. The wife jumped at the bath house, knocking over her neighbour’s basin, when she became mindful of her folly and also sprinted home.
By G. Douglas Kerr2 years ago in Psyche
Big Game Tonight. Top Story - September 2024.
I couldn’t sleep last night. Haven’t slept well in a minute, to be honest. At three in the morning, I opted to give up staring at the cracks in the ceiling to instead stare at my laptop screen and the mounds of opened and unopened white envelopes spread like dying angels’ wings across my kitchen table. I can hear my husband sleeping like a fat baby in the other room, the sounds of his snoring reverberating through the thin apartment walls. I imagine little waves in my black coffee rippling through every guttural breath that comes out of him, and I form the outline of what should have been a smirk on the corner of my lips.
By Bryan Buffkin2 years ago in Fiction
Blue Midnight. Top Story - September 2024.
Blue Midnight hurts; my soul is regurgitating pain from those before me and those with me now in the shadows of darkness. I am silent yet my mind replays the choices, the sickness and the fear of never having a window that will open and allow me to breathe peacefully.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
A Raindrop on Repeat. Top Story - September 2024.
Satin sheets cling to my sweaty skin. They would tell a tale of sin, but today it’s no such thing. My bed an empty vessel of vast memories of the past. I reach out to empty space, it’s nice but also sad. Melancholy manic thoughts wash over me, after scenes of gratuitousness play out. Looking at past failures and success I wonder what life is all about. My thoughts so loud they echo in this vast empty house. I long to hold one close, yet push away like a body builder lifting plates. I long and crave to have, yet spend and give my money away on frivolous amenities and vices each day. Then, I look and ask why neither love nor money choose to stay. I’ve had both and gave them all away.
By Kenneth cruz2 years ago in Poets
Jake. Top Story - September 2024.
I'm never sure what to expect when my partner and I arrive for these exchanges. Most of the time, the people we meet don't know, either. This was clearly no exception. When our little sedan pulled up to the curb, the young woman looked petrified. I stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back door. Jake bounded from the back seat and I released the breath I'd been holding. He was home!
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Psyche
Epic Beginnings Challenge Winners
Congratulations to first-time winner Gerard DiLeo for Capitano Neutrino — we do like it when a challenge entry makes us laugh. Here the laws of physics, combined with a passion for durum flour, produce Italy’s first superhero, “Capitano Neutrino (née Colino Semicolini), who can seize criminals on a whim, subdue them, and render them inert in wheat semolina bondage.” Spaghettifiction forever, we say!
By Vocal Curation Team2 years ago in Resources
The Exchange. Runner-up in Small Kindness Challenge. Top Story - September 2024. Content Warning.
Misty’s car made a gut-wrenching grinding noise as she pulled into the parking lot, pulling into a shaded spot near the back. The grinding, which happened just about every time she turned the wheel now, had become so loud and anxiety-provoking recently that it eclipsed the fact that her AC had conked out before summer even started. But now, sitting in the muggy shade, beads of sweat appeared almost instantly and unbidden on her top lip. Her muscles groaned, and her bowels cramped as if someone was tightening a vice. Her phone lit up with a text message, predictably from Cole:
By Elle Marie2 years ago in Psyche
Bookworm. Top Story - September 2024.
Dawson followed the boy and his teacher up the museum steps. He hoped the boy wouldn’t get in too much trouble. He liked him. They were the same age and they both had to deal with bullies. But things weren’t looking good. The math teacher was a total weirdo. There was no way this didn’t end badly for the boy.
By D.K. Shepard2 years ago in Psyche
