Holiday
The Snowman Hunter
You’ve heard the songs by now, the ones about snowmen. How they have a jolly happy soul, a corn-cob pipe and a button nose, two eyes made out of coal. Well, the song was right about one thing, they have eyes made out of coal. Charred, shouldering embers from hell. Or stones, plucked from mucky gutters by naïve children with no idea what they’re in the process of creating. Those beady little eyes – ceaselessly peering at passerby through the falling snow – haunt me in my sleep. Their murderous gaze is sharp enough to pierce even the darkness of my dreams. Even during the sparkling hours of daylight, the sight of an eye-shaped pebble is enough to send shivers down my spine.
By Alyssa Cherise5 months ago in Fiction
The Bite Beneath the Oak. Runner-Up in Leave the Light On Challenge.
5:30pm In the stillness of Halloween night, the air crackled with beguiling sorcery, and she felt the weight of her father’s cruelty dissolving into the ether. Tonight was her night. No staggering boots scraping against the unfinished Pebble Tec floor. No remotes flying through television screens. No barbarous ramblings directed at her for hours. For once, the house seemed a place a tranquilly.
By M.R. Cameo5 months ago in Fiction
The Woman Who Spoke in Weather
Story The Woman Who Spoke in Weather Harold Linton had been the city’s morning weatherman for nineteen years. He was steady, reliable, and rarely surprised — the kind of man who could read a sky like a favorite book. His office sat on the eleventh floor of a squat, concrete building downtown, where he had a perfect view of Ashbury Street.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter She Never Sent
By Nadeem Shah The envelope had yellowed with time, the edges curling slightly as if it had been holding its breath for years. It sat at the bottom of the box, beneath a stack of old photographs and forgotten receipts, as though it had been waiting—patient, quiet—for someone to finally notice it.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
A Stranger in Every Photograph
A Stranger in Every Photograph I found the photo album on a rainy Sunday afternoon, tucked behind boxes in the attic of my late grandmother’s house. Its leather cover was cracked and worn, the pages yellowed, and the smell of old paper and faint perfume clung to it like a ghost.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
