Young Adult
The Earth is Flat
Mr. Rivers stood at the front of a sunlit classroom in Lakeridge High School in Portland, Oregon, gripping the edge of the wooden podium, and taught World History. “They executed Galileo for saying the Earth is round,” he declared, in a booming voice to hold the attention of the class. “And over in Idaho, they still believe God created the world in seven days!”
By Scott Christenson🌴about an hour ago in Fiction
Moby Dee
We all think we know the story of Moby Dick, a tale of human courage, obsession, and revenge against a monstrous whale, a creature of evil nature. We also remember that in the end nature cannot be tamed or defeated: Moby Dick kills his obsessed hunter and leaves. This has become such a recognizable myth that the name itself -- Moby Dick -- evokes powerful feelings of fear and anxiety about the untamed monster whale in the vast ocean.
By Lana V Lynxabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
Someone Keeps Swiping Right on My Dating Profile
I downloaded the dating app two weeks after Valentine’s Day. Not because I was ready to date again. Mostly because my friends wouldn’t stop telling me to “get back out there.” My last relationship ended badly, and February had been miserable enough already.
By V-Ink Storiesabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
My Girlfriend Wants My Heart for Valentine’s Day
When my girlfriend first said she wanted my heart forever, I laughed. It was Valentine’s season, and she’d been in that overly romantic mood all week—pink candles, heart-shaped cookies, cheesy love songs playing in the apartment while she cooked dinner.
By V-Ink Storiesabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
The Last Round Before Sunrise
The group had been bar-hopping since early evening. St. Patrick’s Day had turned the whole downtown area into a blur of green shirts, plastic shamrocks, and loud music pouring from every open doorway. By midnight, most of the popular bars were packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
By V-Ink Storiesabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
The Midnight Alley: The Boy Who Called His Killer “Dad”
Lightning cracked overhead as Detective Lena Carter’s boots splashed through the rain-slicked alley. The call had come just moments ago—a child was hurt, and the storm didn’t care. Narrow walls of brick reflected the flickering light from a struggling streetlamp, puddles trembling under each flash. On the wet ground lay a boy, twelve years old, eyes wide in final surprise, blood glimmering in crimson streams across the cracks beneath him. Clutched in his small, trembling fingers was a soaked scrap of paper. Carter leaned close, throat tight: the letters D_A_ smeared by rain.
By imtiazalamabout 19 hours ago in Fiction
She She She
A pale and thin girl, Miriam, sat alone in her high school cafeteria. A breeze of rustic potato smells enveloped her and put her off. She had already thrown away the annoying lunch her breast-cancer-ridden mother packed her, despite knowing Miriam wasn’t eating again.
By Paul Aaron Domenicka day ago in Fiction
The Edge of Something
She kissed me. She kissed me, and I just stood there. I didn't understand what was happening until it was already over. Did I lean in? I don't know. She did — I know that much — because I would never have been the one to close the distance. I had only been thinking that I was having a nice time with a girl I met in class. A nice time. That's all.
By Eddamar González3 days ago in Fiction
The Trappist Adventure: Chapter 4
Darkness surrounded him as he lay on the cold floor and let the sensation ease the pain of his wounds. Johnny didn’t know how long it had been since their capture. He only knew that it felt like an eternity in hell. Even worse, Johnny had no idea what they did with the doctor.
By Jason Ray Morton 3 days ago in Fiction
Echoes of Resistance
The streets of Bristol were alive that day, though not with the usual hum of buses and chatter, but with the heavy pulse of voices that demanded to be heard. I had not intended to join the protest—I came to observe, to write, to bear witness—but once I stepped into the swell of people, the energy was impossible to ignore. The banners waved above heads, each one a story, a demand, a prayer. The scent of rain-soaked asphalt mixed with the faint tang of chalk from hastily scrawled messages, leaving the air electric.
By imtiazalam3 days ago in Fiction
