Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

The Lost Locket
Lockets were banned. Ever since the war that had destroyed so many places. The government as we knew it, had fallen at the hands of a wayward general. A locket had been the cause of the war. Or so the rumors went. The apocalypse had come and none of us had been prepared. The story went something along the lines of…
By Billi Childress5 years ago in Fiction
The Wall
The days are endless now. Burning, blistering and endless, seeping pointlessly into one another without end. The one true end arrives only with death, which comes sooner than it once had. Or so I’ve heard. Rumours, they are just rumours of the past because that is all we have left – the words we speak to one another that distort and shift over time like waves, becoming what each person needs them to be so the truth is malleable. Once upon a time the weather moved between seasons, shifting between warmth and cold like the breeze. People lived many decades until their faces were so altered with time that they were unrecognizable from those they had been in their youth. Or so I’ve heard.
By Emily Fletcher5 years ago in Fiction
Liquid Gold and a Pile of Bones
Luck. That was different. He’d experienced it once or twice before, but it was rare. Mythic. But not as rare as fate. Fate, he knew was bull shit.
By Alyssa Caswell5 years ago in Fiction
America the Formerly Beautiful
DOOMSDAY DIARY Daniel Swinford We have been told that history repeats itself. This has never been truer than our current situation. We mimic the fall of the great Roman empire, only this time, we have done it to ourselves.
By Daniel Jay Swinford5 years ago in Fiction
Fear the Colonel.
This dystopian wasteland. It disgusts me. A newly mutated virus every ten minutes. Culture down the toilet. Our so-called ‘leaders’ nothing more than savage criminals.
By Timothy Purcell5 years ago in Fiction
The worth of a Human.
Our story begins in the year 2927. Forty years after humans figured out that money doesn't actually matter that much. The fact that more gets made every day, kind of reduces the value or it. So people decided that currency all together should be thrown in the bin.
By Lizzy Griever 5 years ago in Fiction
12 Years After
The end came more quietly than we expected. They came in the dark, while we were sleeping. By the time the sun set on the rest of the world it rose on our world in chains.
By Michael Slavish5 years ago in Fiction
Somewhere down the river
In this run-down manor somewhere outside of the nearest southern city it always feels like a handful of tiny eyes are looking intensely at me. It feels like they wait for me to make a mistake.
By Samuel Gowdy5 years ago in Fiction
art
My father once told me that real art isn’t something you can see, hear, or touch. Real art, in the simplest sense, is a feeling. It used to course through my veins, as important as any organ. Before the training began, real art was all I’d ever known. And as I run from the place I call home, I realise that I need it now more than ever.
By daksha5 years ago in Fiction
Anastasia 22-8-93
Two hands, two feet, ten fingers, ten toes. Shh, quiet… What is that noise? My heart. Wait…my heart? Why is this… thing in my chest beating harder, faster?
By stasdee5 years ago in Fiction
Technology of Tomorrow
He told me it was only temporary, this crushing loneliness. Yet here I stand in amongst the rubble of my former life wondering if he knew he was lying or if things genuinely did change.
By Brittney Dyson5 years ago in Fiction
DREAM COME TRUE
The year is 2199. Buildings are tall and made of glass. All the land is nothing but dirt and desolation. The earth stopped revolving some time ago, so every day is 24 hours of sunlight. All vegetation has been moved into factories. Air is no longer free. Government is run by A.I. In fact, what isn’t run by A.I., come to think of it. Everyone has universal income. A nice little barcode, embedded into your wrist, lets everyone know your income base in an instant. With a little bit of backdrop out of the way, I guess that leaves you curious about me. Me? “Hi, I’m Alvin.” I’m nothing special. Scrawny, scrappy. I stand 5’10”, sandy blonde hair, light blue eyes, semi-muscular, long faced, strong jawed. I am an orphan, or at least I think I’m an orphan. I live in a basement of a building. Raised by an A.I. Her number is AI-VIN: MUM2002. I just call her Mum. Look familiar? AI-VIN… Alvin… So, mum raised me by being a peddler on the side. Now that I’m 17, I can help her find her wares, if you know what I mean.
By Crystal Edmondson5 years ago in Fiction