New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
Lottie’s twitching nose dragged her slowly from her afternoon slumber. She had been enjoying an active dream of rabbit chasing and at first was reluctant to rise from her incredibly comfortable position on the sofa. Warm patches of sunlight coated her furry body and she felt deliciously relaxed. Rising into a graceful downward dog, she took her time with the stretch and added a pink-tipped yawn for good measure. She plopped herself down onto the carpet, landing just beside the brownish stain that she vaguely remembered being responsible for some time ago. She bent her head and sniffed at it. Yep, that one had definitely been hers.
A Year With Vocal
After writing over a hundred stories, a lot of people ask or wonder “how have you written so much?” and honestly, that’s an interesting question.
The Seven Sisters, East Sussex
The Seven Sisters are a series of sheer chalk cliffs, up to 500 feet high, on the coast of East Sussex between Newhaven and Eastbourne. Geologically they are part of the South Downs and are now included in the South Downs National Park that was created in 2011.
The Force Within Her
Ten translucent fingers wrap around the warm leather wheel of my convertible. The sage green Triumph leisurely twists and turns with the forest road. Gnarly trees weave together above the snaking, potholed concrete. I approach Newtown, a village nestled deep in the New Forest and my home for the next few days. Curls of red hair stream behind me in the cool southern breeze. Speckles of sunlight tickle the constellation of brown freckles on my flushed cheeks. I inhale the damp, earthy scent of the untamed wilderness deep into my lungs. Phthalo green leaves rustle playfully as the car creeps down a narrow curving lane. My chestnut eyes spot the wooden sign with ‘Woodside Lodge’ carved into its flesh. I turn the wheel, pulling into the charming holiday let.
The smell of the salty air, the sounds of waves crashing, and the warmth of the sun; that is where Pietro’s mind drifted. . His little girl Evangeline and his darling wife Sarah running back and forth in tandem with the waves. Memories of watching the sunset disappear and watching the night sky rise before returning home. A vision of a time that seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago. Looking around now all he saw was the dark clouds that never gave way to that beautiful radiant light. He shifted in his position and grimaced at the pain from his wound. He hated that incessant howling that, at first, had curdled his blood, however now just annoyed him. He glanced around in the distance and saw them moving back and forth ever so quickly and cautiously. There was no need for them to be worried as he hurled his gun into the pile of other useless wooden pieces, but they didn’t know that. He questioned all the choices he had made that had led him to this moment. To die in this dingy old barn. He sighed deeply, watching the chill materialize his breath, and began to let his mind fade.
You Don't Talk to Your Parents, and That's OK
In today's society, it is not uncommon for parents and their children to have estrangements with one another. Especially when our family morals have changed over time, and our awareness of our mental health has gained precedence in our day to day lives.
How To Edit Your Published Vocal Stories!
It happened again. You spent five hours writing the perfect Vocal article. You got so excited by the fact you finished, you accidentally hit "submit for review" before deleting any spelling or grammar mistakes. Or maybe you did check for mistakes, but you missed a couple in your editing session. If only the article wasn't locked while pending for review - you could take them out right now!
5 Things Truckers Wished Drivers Knew
Commercial truck driving is a more difficult job than many people realize. It is challenging to stay alert when driving for hours on end, but imperative when you are driving a vehicle that weighs several tons. They can cause a lot of damage in a collision, and they are not maneuverable enough to be able to easily avoid one.
The Woman From My Dreams
Darkness asserted itself like a solid force gently pressing me into my bed. Autumn’s cool breath drifted in through the open window. Curtains danced somewhere near the window, filling the darkness with the whispering of their skirts. My eyelids grew heavier and slower with each blink. Nearby, the purring of my feline companion washed over my consciousness like a little living motor. There was a moment in which a waking thought conjured an important memory; then the waking thoughts were no more.
Mischief at the Barn
Thomas pulls up to the old barn just outside of town. It had been old when he and his peers were young, and 20 years of exposure to the elements without upkeep has only degraded it more - hardly any of the paint that once adorned it remains. He wasn’t at all surprised when Jim and Ross pitched it as the meetup for their class reunion; they all have a history with it. He’s passed several familiar vehicles parked in the nearby empty field to reach the barn - he’ll park in the field after they unload his truck. He can hear a din of voices through his open window.
The Spare is the Heir
In general, the second sons of British monarchs have a pretty sweet life, enjoying all the royal perks with far less responsibility. The spares aren't destined for the throne so they're free to pursue personal happiness (to a certain extent, anyway). Aside from ribbon cutting, tree planting, and balcony waving, their royal duties are pretty limited.
How I've made $1,000 from Vocal
On February 18th, 2021, I became an active member on Vocal. I was interested in the platform after seeing an advertisement on Instagram for one of the challenges with a $20,000 prize. Now, I am officially five months into my Vocal membership, and have become quite fond of all aspects of the community. I have written more in the last few months than I would’ve ever expected, and I've enjoyed every minute of it. Vocal’s pay per view system, littered with bonuses has kept my attention and provided motivation to continue writing. After being on the platform for almost half a year, I have learned that although you will get a fair amount from writing on the platform, investing in it may make you a bit more.
Beware Those Below
The howling wind was nothing compared to the cries of her mother. The thunder couldn’t rival the sound of her father’s fists.
Space Shuttle: Final Flight of a Legend
IF HUMANITY HAS a beachhead to the stars, this is it: Cape Canaveral. This sandy promontory, jutting out into the Atlantic from a barrier island on the midway point of Florida’s eastern coast, is the site of most of the manned space launches in human history.
Incoming, Chapter One
Less than an hour had elapsed for Joe and Gala since receiving the horrendous news that they were already parents-to-be of Harbin, The Foretold One, whose adult life would be distinguished by a universe-wide reign of terror. Now amidst the grotesque greenery of The Back Garden, where living fungi of monstrous size snared whole planets in their twining grip, the first of The Four Heroes and the first of the Next Four braced for battle as that same son barrelled down upon them. Harbin, a grown man on his second time-travelling trip to the present day, was a gaunt blur of twilight wrapped in a ragged cloak as he alighted on the tangled stalks and stems that made up the flooring where his parents stood. Those two at once bore the piercing white light from Gala’s cutlass and the fiery blaze of Joe’s fists directly to the heart of Harbin’s preternatural dusk, as the family reunion made its less-than-promising start.
Chance, Fate & Chocolate Cake
London was everything Sophie dreamt it would be. After a long day of sightseeing, she was exhausted yet satisfied. She had one last stop on her tour before she could finally retire to her hotel room for the night. Although she was seriously considering skipping the last stop and sneaking away to her luxurious hotel bed early, she knew she'd regret it tomorrow.
A Map Of Life
Some hearts see perfection; others see the opposite. But the happy and creative souls compose perfection from their imperfections.
The Life I Choose
The dawning light wakes me as it eases through the bedroom window of the cabin. I slowly roll myself from the bed, pulling the blankets back up to snuggle the resting form of my husband.
It Is a Golden Age for People Who Cannot Tie Their Own Shoelaces
Author’s note: This article was originally published almost two years ago now and did not get nearly the attention it deserved. I am republishing it again today as a service to the shoelace tying ignorant and/or lazy public who no doubt make up a large portion of my readership. Enjoy!
Maria Marten and the Red Barn
Foxy Corder was a born philanderer and a petty criminal; always running after the ladies in the village and selling pigs that weren’t even his. This is his story, a true crime, set in the village of Polstead, England. The year of misadventure; 1827.