Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Chapters.
Chapter 13 of “The Moth & the Lighthouse: a Memoir”
I know this memoir has been a sad story so far, and you probably don’t like the protagonist very much, but I beg you to press on, Dear Reader. The monstrous cretin inhabiting these pages is about to undergo a transformation. Based on what you know so far, it’s hard to believe that anything could penetrate the shell of miserable, desperate, entitled arrogance he is encased in, I know. However, he is about to have some experiences that evidence if not a higher power, at least a sense of greater purpose, and emerge from the chrysalis a butterf…well, at least a moth, but you may find the changes as astounding as he did.
By J. Otis Haas2 years ago in Chapters
Grieving The Dead, And The Living
As I pulled up to the cemetery, I felt a sort of dread in the pit of my stomach. I hardly ever went there anymore. It was hard to. Losing my brother still weighs so heavily on my heart, even now. But I felt a little better about it this time because Eric would be there with me. I figured, at least I wouldn’t be alone.
By Jaye Ruggiero-Cash2 years ago in Chapters
Run with the Pack: Chapter 7
The wolf was almost upon him before Bahr could react. “Run whelp!” Bahr, facing the stranger, refused to run and stood his ground. Before him was a fearsome wolf, ragged from a hard winter but strong of jaw and fixed of stare. Other wolves appeared but remained several paces behind. The other wolves, all male, were not many but not one.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Chapters
An American Girl Summer
8/11/2023 Dear Diary, I finally saw the Barbie movie this week! Mom giggled so much throughout the whole thing. She kept pointing out all the old dolls she had as a kid—she even had Allan! It was so cute to watch her enjoying herself. She really related to the mother being pushed away by the teenage daughter, which made me feel bad. She told me she always wanted a Troll doll growing up, but her mother wouldn’t get her one. I’m going to buy her a vintage one for Christmas.
By Anonymous Barbie2 years ago in Chapters
Summer Dreams
The extreme temperature of my first memorable summer was unusually humid for our area of Indiana, driving the heat index up into almost the 100’s. There hadn’t been much rain that year and it showed. Mrs. Shultz from next door couldn’t keep her prize roses alive long enough to compete in the garden club’s annual floral competition but to her credit, most of the other gardeners in the area were experiencing worse issues than she was.
By Veronica Coldiron2 years ago in Chapters
Stay with me
I mean, growing up, I always had this innate fear I would lose my mother, a stubborn German who loved hard and disliked herself even harder. Some days, in the years following her death, I blamed myself, thinking my fears materialized and led to losing her. I spent 20 years witnessing her self-destruct, and eventually that became the norm; I simply accepted the inevitability of things, losing her emotionally long before she died. As I got older I began to ask myself, could I have tried harder? I would find old photos of her where she stared into the lens, and tried to make eye contact with the past in an attempt to understand what year the light escaped her and addiction stepped in with a futile flame. I searched for her pain before me - for validation that I didn’t cause her to lose hope in herself.
By Kaitlin Oster2 years ago in Chapters
Chapter One: The Hidden Secrets
For years, teenagers had spun tales of the mansion being haunted, of eerie apparitions that roamed its darkened halls, and of strange, otherworldly sounds that echoed from its depths. But the truth about the mansion was far more sinister, buried deep beneath its foundations.
By Ionut Drake2 years ago in Chapters
The Time of Our Lives
Growing up poor gave me a unique perspective on entertainment. One summer, a local radio station hosted Tuesday night $1.50 carloads at the drive-in for anyone sporting sing their bumper sticker. So, mom, (queen of pranks and scare tactics), loaded the station wagon with bags of popcorn and coolers of tea, together with plastic tumblers from home.
By Veronica Coldiron2 years ago in Chapters
Klaatu Barada Nikto
To the casual observer, Veronica Rennie and I were opposites – she was the beauty, and I was the beast. But Veronica was one of the few women I dated in the 1980s (or any other time) who was a friend, not just a girlfriend. She said one reason she loved me was because I was the only person who could make her forget she suffered from manic depression.
By Michael Jefferson2 years ago in Chapters
