Top Stories

New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.

Dear Uncle Tony. Runner-Up in Dancing with Distraction Challenge.
Dear Uncle Tony, I am writing to you from the sea Send me a sign, please, Tony, I’m tired, but my family needs me Righteous anger has burned me
By Veronica Germano3 years ago in Poets
Words Left Unspoken. Runner-Up in Villanelle of Regret Challenge.
Words spoken in haste will burn and soon be gone Though they bruise and foster indignation Words we leave unspoken slowly smolder on
By Dana Crandell4 months ago in Poets
Savor Some Real Hawaiian flavor. Runner-Up in Nourished Challenge.
Poke. It seems like it's everywhere these days. Everyone and their Mama/Papa/Aunty/Uncle/Sistah/Braddah/Cousin/Friend has opened up some sort of poke business, eaten at one of these shops, or at the very least, seen references about a poke place at least once in their lifetimes. It is currently a popular source of nourishment around the world, and due to its growing fame, has been featured on TV, print, radio, blogs and vlogs all over.
By M. Lee2 years ago in Feast
Rock On. Runner-Up in Ludicrous Limerick Challenge.
You just can't avoid getting older. It's a burden we all have to shoulder. You can simply survive. Or learn how to thrive.
By Marie Wilson3 years ago in Poets
Sociolassus. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
Freedom. She almost had it. She waved to the last of the partygoers as they departed. The disappearing headlights served as twin lighthouses in the night, assuring her that the farther they got, the farther she was from the rocky shore of social obligations.
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Fiction
Halo-Mist. Winner in Letters to the Moon Challenge.
when I close my eyes To remember your Ayla, that circle of ethereal, eternal burning light My brain fine tunes the beam into feverish, crying music
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 months ago in Poets
Three Knocks Below. Runner-Up in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
Silence has a texture under the sea. It isn’t empty — it breathes. It hums against the steel, curls into the corners, whispers in your skull until you start to hear your own blood. We were two miles beneath the surface when I heard it.
By Thadeus 4 months ago in Fiction
I Still Remember
I still remember that very first meet, The first laugh, the first word, the first step, the first fall, A little hand reaching for mine,
By Colleen Millsteed 2 months ago in Poets
Shooting Star. Content Warning.
Breathing breath into me Spiraling in imagination Endless search for patience Anger dulls my star Rattling bones of skeleton
By Tanya Lei2 months ago in Poets
Longevity. Honorable Mention in The Last Flame Challenge.
Internal heat is the direct source of enthusiasm emotion passion intensity... all things inherent in this ongoing process of existence...
By Lamar Wiggins2 months ago in Poets
The lost dialogue of Philosophocles - 4
If you missed Agonistes Part One, two and three, you may wish to read them by clicking the links below: the lost dialogue of Philosophocles
By John Cox2 months ago in Chapters
Peas in a Pod
"Hello?" "Finally! Where the fuck have you been? It’s the fifth time I’ve called!" "I’m a very busy man. I had things to do."
By Cristal S.2 months ago in Fiction
The Houdi Papers
OMG! This cat is killing me. Her new thing is hide and seek; it used to be tag, but she got bored with that one, and this is her new way of torturing me. She is obsessed with it. And it's nonstop. Unfortunately, we just moved, so there are literally hundreds of places to hide, and she's a cat! Lord, have mercy! We need to get rid of the boxes ASAP bc those are her preferences. To hide in between them. Even worse, if I don't want to play, she finds me and pokes me quickly as a reminder that I can only quit when she says so. Not before.
By Rene Volpi 2 months ago in Humor
A Dreamer
***** I found myself drifting back into some of “the good old days” while listening to songs we used to sing along with without a care in the world.
By Mel E. Furnishabout a month ago in Humans
Stolen Bike, Not Valor
Koa was riding his new electric bike through the city park not too far from the US Embassy where he served in an Asian country. The ride was a part of his daily evening workout. He didn't really like the idea of an electric bike because he thought it was lazy. Besides, Koa had another good mountain bike he'd bought here used and it gave him a much better workout. But this one was his girlfriend's gift for his 29th birthday that she had taken the trouble to ship to him across the ocean. Koa felt obliged to ride it out at least occasionally, but promised himself not to use the battery. He even took it off the bike, to avoid the temptation.
By Lana V Lynx2 months ago in Serve
Diary Entry 451. Winner in The Last Flame Challenge.
Today, my husband bought a lighter. I’m scared of fire. He told me to flick it but it was warm to the touch. “Will it burn
By Mackenzie Davis2 months ago in Poets
Cooling Embers. Runner-Up in The Last Flame Challenge.
My husband is a bit of a pyromaniac. We couldn’t get insurance On our wedding barbeque Because he’s known in town For his conflagrations.
By Aubrey Rebecca2 months ago in Poets
The Summoning of the Tree Spirit. Runner-Up in The Ritual of Winter Challenge.
Thank God for Christmas. And Hanukkah. And Yule. And probably a myriad of midwinter gatherings of light, food, and family I’ve never even heard of. Winter is tough, and most of us benefit from something to make it more bearable. Personally, I consider myself lucky to live in an era where frozen earth need not equate to a hungry belly, but even though I can gain eight hundred lumens of light at the flick of a switch, how much more pleasure is there in one hundred little five lumen bursts on a string? Or just fifteen in a candle’s steady glow?
By Hannah Moore2 months ago in Humans
The story of Zero
“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept…” "What are you doing, mon petit?" "Counting, papa." "Counting?" "Yes, counting. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix!"
By Raymond G. Taylor2 months ago in Fiction
First Love
She was A perfect instructor Hands tracing Lines across Whisper soft texture Varying weight Yielding best results
By Aspen Marie 2 months ago in Poets