Excerpt

My Friend’s Last Words Came in a Dream
It’s been a year since Lily passed away, but sometimes it still feels like she might text me, or I’ll turn a corner and see her laughing in that way only she could. Grief is strange like that—it never really goes away, it just changes shape.
By ETS_Story6 months ago in Fiction
Residency
I knew the art residency I had signed up for was going to be in a castle, but the pictures and description couldn’t have prepared me for the reality of it. We drove over a drawbridge; I couldn’t believe the place had a moat. Then we went through the tunnel in the stone wall around the base of the hill, then pulled up the winding drive. Once at the top we drove around the side of the castle and down a slope into an underground garage. The driver parked in one of the slots in a row occupied by matching unremarkable black cars. He got out and opened my door for me and helped me out. I was glad I had worn my gauzy dress; it was comfortable but also felt medieval and ethereal. It was an off-white color spaghetti strap with barely visible flowers all over it. It fell to my calves and was cinched around my waist loosely. I left my auburn hair down and my curls felt heavy on my bare shoulders.
By Raine Fielder6 months ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
Between the Last Train and Dawn
The last train out of the city sighed into the station at 11:48 p.m., wheels hissing against the tracks. Mara stepped aboard, her reflection flickering in the darkened windows before dissolving into the harsh fluorescent glow of the carriage.
By Millicent Chisom6 months ago in Fiction
Toronto
The City in Between" The first snow of December always hit Toronto like a gentle ambush. One moment, the sidewalks were wet with leftover rain, the next, a soft white hush blanketed the streets.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story6 months ago in Fiction
“The Last Paper Crane”*
In a narrow lane where the sun barely touched the ground by midday, tucked between a tea stall and an old tailor’s shop, stood a small stationery store with peeling green paint and a wooden sign that read “Baba Jan’s Papers” in faded ink.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of a Cold Feeling
Outside, the wind howled and moaned, temporarily distracting me from the burning anger I felt. Inside this dollhouse cabin, the only sound was the ticking metronome near the moose head
By sariahhhh6 months ago in Fiction
The Hunt or the Lesson – The Tale of the Monkey, the Horse, and the Lion
It was a hot afternoon in Sierra Leone. The golden sunlight spread across the grassy plains, and the dry air carried the scent of dust. At the edge of the forest, a curious monkey named Maka sat high on a branch, scanning the open field below.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
The Lion and the Monkey – A Sierra Leone Friendship
Sierra Leone’s mornings are like no other—mist clinging to the tops of the Loma Mountains, birds waking the forest with their calls, and the smell of rain still lingering from the night before. In the lowland plains, where grasslands meet dense rainforest, the wildlife stirs to life—elephants move like silent giants, antelopes browse among the trees, and somewhere deep within, the roar of a lion rolls through the damp air.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
*The Bench by the Lake*
There was a lake on the edge of a quiet town, half-hidden behind sycamore trees and tangled ivy. It wasn’t on any tourist map, and no signs pointed to it. But those who found it—by accident or ache—often came back.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
The Masterful Lie We Tell Ourselves That Prevents Us From Reaching Our Potential
The Masterful Lie We Tell Ourselves That Prevents Us From Reaching Our Potential There’s a sentence we all whisper to ourselves at some point.
By Wings of Time 6 months ago in Fiction