Top Stories
New stories you'll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
Once More Unto The Breach. Top Story - May 2024.
He let the sword slip through his other gauntleted hand. Athlistan stood atop the crest of the rubble of Bordanium’s ruptured curtain wall. Beyond, the remnants of the Saxon’s first assault regrouped. They would come again–Athlistan knew it.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
A Few Moments More. Top Story - May 2024.
You’ll give it one more minute, and then you’re headed back inside. It’s pretty chilly out, after all. Not that that’s a real issue - you’ve stood out here for longer, and in colder weather. The snow is nearly gone already; tiny, dirt-stained islands of the stuff form a shrinking archipelago dotting the sea of green that is your backyard. Striations of sunlight dance through the trees at the edge of the woods and paint the scene in a camouflage of brown, green, and gold.
By Gabriel Huizenga2 years ago in Fiction
To Give Your Last Twenty. Top Story - May 2024.
He walks oddly, shuffling and nearly tripping down the hallway toward his apartment door. I slow my pace, allowing my neighbor— a stuffy ex-marine with one missing tooth, a strong odor of liquor and two weeks' worth of unwashed stench always accompanying him—to reach his door. I crinkle my nose, nearly gagging as he dawdles ahead.
By Ashley2 years ago in Motivation
And the Sun Came Up Tremendous. Top Story - May 2024. Content Warning.
In memory of the 12 girls who were among the first victims of the atomic age. The screen on Mara's smartphone screamed beams of blue light into her eyes as she doom scrolled through social media. It was 4:13am, and she was still laying on her side in her bed unable to let go of the news headlines whipping past.
By Amanda Starks2 years ago in Fiction
A Lifetime in Sixty Seconds . Top Story - May 2024.
As I approach the stage I wonder what the heck I am going to say in one minute to a audience of young people that will even matter. Ah, what the heck, I'll just fly by the seat of my pants like I always do.
By Pamela Walsh-Holte2 years ago in Fiction
A Minute's Difference. Top Story - May 2024.
It was a Tuesday, 2:58...59 in the afternoon. My friend Andy was white-knuckled gripping the edge of his school desk, staring desperately at the second hand of the clock slooowly circling round, while our teacher droned on and on. A girl behind me cracked her gum. Another classmate was fervently scribbling notes. I was trying to look just awake enough not to get called on. Wrapped in my grey hoodie, eyes drooping behind uncut bangs, head leaning on folded arms, I appeared the cliche of a bored teenage boy, on the verge of daydreaming his way into a more exciting life.
By Ellen Stedfeld2 years ago in Fiction
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller. Top Story - May 2024.
Perhaps one of the best known modern plays in all of 20th century theatre, ‘Death of a Salesman’ is a 1949 play written by Arthur Miller. Set in Brooklyn, it takes place over two acts and portrays the tragedy of the Loman household - specifically that of protagonist Willy Loman. It deals with the crushing of the American Dream and forces the audience to confront the harsh truth about what America has become. It ended up winning the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Tony Award for Best Play and as it is revived many times we in literature and drama hope it can continue its influence for years to come.
By Annie Kapur2 years ago in Geeks
Talented Black creators spotlight: Catherine Nyomenda (Chap 3).. Top Story - May 2024.
Catherine reminds me of an enigma wrapped within a riddle. When she writes, she skips between the poetic and the dramatic. Her highlights of the African lifestyles of herself, of authors whom she admires, and the many nuances of love keeps you wondering and pondering the passage of life.
By Novel Allen2 years ago in Chapters
Her Majesty Mia and her minions. Top Story - May 2024.
I rule this rag tag lot… they’re not much, but they’re all I’ve got! I preside at the head of the table, my indisputable, rightful place. But, I randomly perch on other chairs at a moment’s notice… whenever the mood strikes. Such fun keeping them off balance. Fun reminding them who’s boss... ME!
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶2 years ago in Petlife
The Singer So Shy. Second Place in Just a Minute Challenge. Top Story - May 2024. Content Warning.
She stood near the cold fireplace, watching the second-hand tick down to the hour. In another minute, the clock's bird would emerge and warble the hour. She reached up and touched the clock, tracing the gentle slope of the farmhouse roof, then trailing down the lilac strewn side, to the white fence framed dooryard. She wished she was there, where the air would smell of lilacs rather than smoke.
By Judah LoVato2 years ago in Fiction
Peanuts and Crackerjack. Top Story - May 2024.
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins2 years ago in Fiction
