Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Keyhole Peeking. Content Warning.
Looking through a keyhole isn’t as cool as it looks in the movies. Right now, I’m looking through the keyhole of my neighbor’s room. Normally I wouldn’t be doing this. Since it really violates other people’s privacy. But an hour ago I heard something from the room. At first it wasn’t all that loud. Sounded like soft sobbing. It’s almost as if someone was trying to not be heard crying.
By Raphael Fontenelle5 months ago in Fiction
Governments Best Friends
We've all seen them, perched on high wires or rooftops, staring at the world below. Crows congregate in small groups, and when one departs the murder, another quickly takes its place. Have you ever asked yourself what they are looking for and who they are reporting their observations to?
By Mark Gagnon5 months ago in Fiction
I've Always Been Near
Thank you for inviting me to your Unofficial Vocal Challenge, RHC! Greetings, sweet morsel. You've never seen me before, but I know you quite well. I have been with you for 2 years, 11 months, and 28 days. You haven't bothered to notice, but our third anniversary is coming, right along with your mother's death. But I've watched you since the day you were born. Before mummy wasn't there to protect you...I was always near.
By Hope Martin5 months ago in Fiction
Knock Knock
Decked out in fleece sweats, sitting on a newly purchased faux leather sofa in a retro brown, Mereille looks around. Not too bad. Boxes fill the room but she’s managed to find a packet of microwave popcorn. Bayou lays curled at her feet, snoring lightly as she shovels a handful of movie-style buttered popcorn into her mouth. Just as she lifts a plastic cup of Zinfandel, a knock at the door, startles both the phone and wine out of her hands.
By Cathy Schieffelin5 months ago in Fiction
I am Bexley: The Bloodletters Scourge Chapter 28 Fish
This journey has truly made me feel the full weight of what tired actually means. There’s something about this fresh air that is slowly making me feel what it means to be alive, feeling every step I take, and ever since my husband touched my stomach, I am feeling a squirming. It’s something else that’s a part of me, but not me. Am I carrying a baby? How is this possible? I am so confused.
By Melissa Ingoldsby5 months ago in Fiction
Echoes of Loss. Content Warning.
[TW: family conflict, mental illness, suicide] A frantic scratching comes from the front door, echoing through our living room. Claws scrapping against hard wood. A sound I know well– Bilbo, our cat, trying to get in. Bilbo died a year ago.
By Scott Christenson🌴5 months ago in Fiction
#3 Panic Monster, Be Gone... 💪🏾💪🏾💪🏾
Thirteen-year-old Bailey Daniels slowly walked up the carpeted hallway of Swan Lee Christian Middle School and headed towards her fourth-period history class. Her baby blue Jansport backpack felt like it had a million bricks in it; in reality it had three textbooks, a notebook, a calculator, a yellow highlighter, a mechanical pencil and two ink pens in it.
By Tiffany Gordon5 months ago in Fiction
