Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Visitor. Content Warning.
The first flash came at 7:17 p.m. Eliza sat up in her cot, eyes wide in the dark room. The sterile white walls of Ward B had blinked with blue light—like a camera flash—illuminating the hallway just outside her door. She scooted back against the cold wall, shoving the pillow into her lap. She studied the crack under the door—waiting, listening.
By Tennessee Garbage7 months ago in Fiction
Going Home Alone
This all started last week, I was walking home from my mother’s house. We ate dinner together and watched a movie like we do every other weekend. This weekend I picked a movie from my childhood, 'Halloweentown’. As I had been feeling sort of nostalgic these past few months. Among other things that I had been doing to regain the feelings that I had for Halloween. It had been difficult these past few months as well and well…reliving these feelings had been a childhood comfort.
By Raphael Fontenelle7 months ago in Fiction
Leave the Light On. Runner-Up in Leave the Light On Challenge. Content Warning.
“You have a visitor.” The facilitator stood in front of two heavy velvet curtains that gathered in bunches on the floor. He was almost as tall as the curtains were high, and he stood with such stillness that it appeared to the mystic that this man could have simply evaporated into the deep red abyss that hung behind him. His suit was Italian and tailored to his body with precision; something to be expected by the governing forces of this establishment. While the room these two briefly shared was intimately-sized—not uncommon in this profession—the mystic could never clearly make out the face of her facilitator. Either the lights were too low, or he was too corrupted. Probably the latter, she figured. She was never able to read the facilitators. Good enough for them.
By Kaitlin Oster7 months ago in Fiction
Fearful, sensory AI Foibles.
Somewhere Between the acceptance of AI and Myself...there hums a melody caught in neon lights, of question marks, interspersed with introspection and ambiguity. It suggests a liminal space, a blurred boundary between identity and artificiality, thought and algorithm. A conceptual direction we desperately need to explore.
By Antoni De'Leon7 months ago in Fiction
Still Life, With Peaches. Content Warning.
The house waited at the end of the gravel road, sunlit and still. Nothing stirred but dust in the wind. From the car, it might have been any summer of his boyhood. The porch slouched in the late afternoon light, the swing held its crooked smile. Ivy had taken the railings entirely.
By Oula M.J. Michaels7 months ago in Fiction
Whinberries
I still remember how he looked, hunched over the wireless, late on that Sunday morning. It's my most abiding memory of him. His shirt, the mended one with blue stripes, was open at the cuffs and rolled back to his elbows, showing his sturdy, brown forearms.
By L.C. Schäfer7 months ago in Fiction
Row, Row, Row You’re Boat
She hated Summer with a deep passion for many reasons. One of the biggest reasons, was that in Summer, besides the baking heat, it would only go dark later in the evening, which made it hard to go to sleep, and Molly needed her sleep to function.
By Elizabeth Butler7 months ago in Fiction
