Top Stories
New stories you'll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
SHE FOLLOWED ME HOME ch1. Top Story - August 2024.
SHE FOLLOWED ME HOME Mo deas ^ ^ Mia was eight years old and on her way home from school. As per normal, she walked with four of her friends. Each lived within a few houses of each other and enjoyed each other's company. The five were solid friends and did as much as possible together. There was never a defined "leader" of their little pack but for a reason Mia didn't understand, her friends always followed her suggestions. "How about if we drop our books at home, then walk to the soda shop. I'd love a cherry coke." Without hesitation, they'd all agree.
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Chapters
The Power Of Symbols For Leaders. Top Story - August 2024.
Yesterday I wrote about Identity and Masks in Leadership and what allows their Power to be Maximized. I had someone with whom I collaborate frequently ask a fantastic question in response to the idea that we "All" wear masks.
By H.E. Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, COIE, DFM, DHM2 years ago in Journal
Unexpected Companion. Top Story - August 2024.
Ever since I picked up the left-for-trash dresser and refinished it, I can’t sleep through the night. Dharrsheena suggested that my newly refurbished piece of furniture could be haunted. I doubted it because spirits usually haunt houses, not the decor. But then strange things started to happen.
By Lana V Lynx2 years ago in Fiction
Osmosis. Top Story - August 2024.
THURSDAY In the vast expanse of the open sea, I drift—a solitary man with a bottle of whiskey in the lifeboat. My skin, bronzed by sun and matted by salt, now clings to my bones like parchment. My lips crack, and my mind teeters on the precipice of madness, fueled by merciless sun. A bottle of whiskey and I.
By Salomé Saffiri2 years ago in Fiction
Men Seldom Make Passes…. Top Story - August 2024.
As I sit typing away in my imaginary 1940s writers’ room, I know that a woman who looks like me rarely makes it onto the screen. And definitely not as leading lady material. You see, my reading habits have led to an unfortunate condition – I wear glasses. And I have watched enough films to know Dorothy Parker’s little poem, News Item, has a ring of truth about it:
By Rachel Robbins2 years ago in Geeks
The Golden Chef. Top Story - August 2024.
That night feels like a lifetime ago. I remember my skin slick from the rain like oil suffocating me, burning my eyes, soaking into my pores. I was a walking natural disaster - the moment the dirt feels soft underfoot before the landslide, or the ripple of water before the earthquake tears a building asunder.
By Eloise Robertson 2 years ago in Fiction
Rook. Top Story - August 2024.
There had always been powers that were more accepted than others, and the world had never been kind to people it feared. Foolishly, Rook thought people would see beyond his power, but even his parents thought someone with mind control could never be trusted.
By Samantha Smith2 years ago in Fiction
No Greater Hive of Scum and Villainy. Top Story - August 2024.
She crawled out of the ooze of endless bureaucracy... A week's long stay in the hospital couldn't kill her. The poking, the prodding, the needles, the beeping machines, the tasteless meals, the flapping gown with her nether regions slapping in the wind - they transformed her into something not recognizable. Quack doctors coming in to sneak fees onto her bill for “consultations.” The experimental drugs, the interruptions of sleep cycle... Come on, people, no one needs to be woken up that bleeping early for meds!
By Meredith Harmon2 years ago in Fiction
Velum. Top Story - August 2024.
Liss had not been assigned to a watch shift since the new captain had taken charge. When she used to take her turn, she always asked for the window that stretched from twilight through dawn. She would begin the shift with her belly stretched across the bow, head over the side, watching for haloes of bioluminescence to indicate the wildlife below. In addition to the size of the cloud of light, the changes in shape could show her the difference between the jerky forward pulse of a nocturnal squid and the glide of a sleek whale. At times, it was almost as if a spiral staircase descended into the depths. Nobody else could ever see it, though. At that time of night, there weren’t very many people around to try.
By Penny Fuller2 years ago in Fiction
The Bachelor. Top Story - August 2024.
Henry spent a lot of time worrying. His job was frustrating and seemed mostly meaningless. His body was gradually changing in perfectly ordinary, embarrassing ways: time and biology were conspiring to turn him into his father's lazy twin. His friends were dwindling in number. Their conversations were mostly about children and spouses. They seemed charming at first, if a bit formulaic, but quickly devolved into conspiratorial whispering or angry complaining about the gulf between how things were supposed to be and how they actually were.
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Fiction
