Love

When You Have His World. Content Warning.
When you have his world, it will be dark in there for a moment, but clean it out with a Swiffer and some Febreeze. Make it smell clean. Commercially clean. Open the windows to air it all out. A pigeon might fly in, and for a moment you might be afraid it will shit on the carpet, but nothing bad will happen. Guide the pigeon to the window with a feather duster, and it'll fly away into the sky.
By Rita Chunabout a month ago in Fiction
Beneath the Unsaid
A night of anonymity. A kiss that ruined the rules. A silence that changed everything. Aliyah Berman lives by control. As a trusted executive assistant, she has mastered professionalism, distance, and restraint. Feelings don’t belong in boardrooms. Desire doesn’t belong in offices.
By Courina Buchananabout a month ago in Fiction
He Said, She Said
"I love you, but I can’t stand the shape of your mouth. I didn’t know it was lopsided until you told me." "It bothered me that I would’ve been lying to you if I hadn’t told you. It’s the only thing I think about."
By Rita Chunabout a month ago in Fiction
The Letter That Was Never Opened. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Every morning, Yusuf opened his small café a few minutes before sunrise. The place was quiet, almost forgotten, and Yusuf never dreamed of becoming rich. All he wanted was peace… and his favorite chair by the window.
By Gabriel Waltoneabout a month ago in Fiction
DECODING THE MAN FROM A NON-EXISTENT COUNTRY
On a summer day in Oia in 1954, at Haneda International Airport in Tokyo, Japan, passengers streamed through passport control. Everything seemed normal until a middle-aged, well-dressed man approached the immigration counter. Customs officers examined his thick passport, and suddenly, an eerie silence fell. The passport appeared valid, containing visa stamps from numerous countries, but there was one inconsistency. It was issued by a country called Taured, a nation that didn't exist on Earth.
By HieuDinhabout a month ago in Fiction
Sweet Pumpkin Soup. Content Warning.
The taste of sweet pumpkin soup spread warmth through her body. She couldn’t help but smile as she gazed into the eyes of her saviour. He lifted the spoon, steady and patient, as if each mouthful mattered. He had learned the recipe just for her. His creamy, homemade pumpkin soup reminded her of childhood—of being looked after when illness took over. This was how he showed his endless care for her.
By Sharna Halliwellabout a month ago in Fiction
Santa Needs to Diet
Santa Needs to Diet Santa pulls on his red snowsuit and wrestles his boots into place. He waddles toward the ski lift at the North Pole’s only mountain resort, Frosty Peaks. The elf running the lift, Pip, watches him coming and looks worried.
By Marie381Uk about a month ago in Fiction
The Cinder’s Weight
The hearth has stopped its singing.white-ribbed and glowing with a soft, pulsing ache. I am watching the last flame— a tiny, blue-tongued ghost licking the underside of a charred knot. It is fragile, a translucent ribbon fraying against the weight of the coming dark. There is a specific silence that lives here For hours, it was a roar of gold and defiance, consuming the dry cedar of our history, the splinters of every word we ever threw into the heat to keep the room alive. But the wood is spent now. The logs have collapsed into a skeletal geography,
By Awa Nyassiabout a month ago in Fiction
Third Stool from the End
Every Wednesday night, after the neon outside the bar flickered twice and settled into its tired hum, I took the same seat.
By A.K. Treadwell about a month ago in Fiction
Deleted scene only dialogue . Top Story - December 2025.
“Dan, I used to have this job... it was weird...” “Weirder than you already are?” “Shut it! This is serious.” “I bet, Arturo.”
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout a month ago in Fiction
POV: Your Hinge Date is Reincarnated
After work, Soni flopped onto the couch. Her phone was waiting for her, its lock screen yielded at her gaze and silence gave way to videos prepared by the algorithm for this moment.
By Ian Lundabout a month ago in Fiction
Old Man Death
“I want to see where Mister Death’s house is,” said Alaina Keane. “Will it be…” she struggled to find a more palatable term, then relented, “as spooky as I’m afraid it will be? Matty?”
By Eric Wolfabout a month ago in Fiction