Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Persephone's Porch
"Circe, for Chrissakes, put Cerberus on his leash to keep him off the porch. I don't need him dragging three sets of drooling jowls across it when the nymphs just cleaned." Persephone pulled her blonde hair back and tied it in a loose knot to keep it off her face. "I can't believe Hermes is bringing the whole famdamnily."
By Harper Lewisa day ago in Fiction
Fallout Season 2 Episode 1 Explained (Review & Breakdown)
Let me dive straight into Fallout Season 2 Episode 1, and yes—this premiere is packed with so many easter eggs, lore drops, timeline twists, and pure what did I just watch? moments that we absolutely have to walk through it beat by beat.
By Bella Andersona day ago in Fiction
Jump-start Your Writing Journey
My dear friend Nancy had dreams of being a writer after commanding a classroom forever. She figured it would finally give her a creative outlet instead of taking up knitting afghans or cultivating orchids. She hated grading papers and wanted to expand her opportunities. As we met at Panera, she shared that she wanted people to read her thoughts and allow her personal legacy to live on. “Grand idea,” I said. “I want the same.”
By Barb Dukemana day ago in Fiction
Broken Safe Haven - Chapter 3
Previous Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Jordan rushed into the training room, an old basketball gym now a labyrinth of training mats, punching bags, and blunted weapons. The musk of sweaty bodies and athletic clothes their owners neglected to wash hung in the warm air. Jordan’s boots thumped against the wooden flooring as he stomped across the room.
By Eric Boringa day ago in Fiction
Dr. Who/Three Stooges
London (Somewhere in England) It all began when Moe took a job in London, it was a job that didn't pan out, something about their job performance being underwhelming, to which Curly made the remark that their work was always underwhelming or mediocre at best, which didn't make the tall, well dressed man that towered over him very happy.
By Timothy E Jones2 days ago in Fiction
Two Jars of Honey and a Kiss
Lucas removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and waded into the water hidden behind a wild growth of willow, alder, and pine that shaded the river bank from the hot afternoon sun. Here, the river ran narrow and shallow and the water was clear and cool. Lucas cupped his hands, scooped up some water and threw it in his face. It felt good and washed the sticky dried sweat from his brow. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had been in town selling honey at the market, while sweltering the summer heat. It had been a fine day for him. There was a good market for honey.
By Gail Winfree2 days ago in Fiction
Letters to ada
Letter I – From Layth to Ada Void, beyond the 22nd century My Dearest Ada, Your eyes... velvet that dissolves the last remnants of my coldness. I was an extinguished ember, until your radiance moistened me like a river-child bending over an ancient thirst in my chest. You blinked—and all of Time leaned toward my mouth. A redness upon your lips touched my fissures, and I softened... I, whom stones never softened. Your iris was my window and my mirror: a core that illuminates and desiccates what remained of my cold soul. I whisper to you a gesture of containment, and I dissolve in Time, even though I was frozen beneath the anesthesia of heavy smoke from a cigarette that keeps the night awake in my blood. I hid a poet in an old box—I feared that if he saw you, the world around me would be disturbed... but your wide lashes excavated the box and awakened what had died before you. You approached... and in the silence of night you were like a thread of light passing over my heart. I saw sorrow wrapped around your white shawl, its yellowness faded as if traces of a day that continued to extinguish. I said to you in a whisper, my voice sagging between fear and wonder: Will you entwine your hand in mine, and shall we slip together to the bottom of Time... without fear? You smiled, and the universe slackened around me, as if the warmth of your fingers was all that remained of the world. And you were asking in silence: “Where is your place within my embrace?” And I, in whose throat the sword of silence had been planted, found myself choosing you before I could speak. Black were your eyes, yet they kindled a daylight within me. And for the first time... O you of the two eyes, I felt that I was luminous.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH2 days ago in Fiction
