Young Adult

The Lesson of the Talking Donkey
The Lesson of the Talking Donkey Adeed was as clever as he was mischievous. His mind was sharp, quick to learn, and full of ideas—but his heart was often filled with mischief. He was known throughout the neighborhood not for his intelligence, but for his troublemaking. Even grown-ups avoided arguing with him, for his tongue was sharper than any elder’s stick. Children feared his pranks, and the villagers jokingly called him “the father of devils.”
By Ubaid 3 months ago in Fiction
Matilda
Silence struggled to take hold over the constant clinking of silverware against ceramic plates. Ron had said a brief prayer, which came out as more of a mocking than a devotion. Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. The silly phrase danced around within Emily’s brain as she savored bite after bite of the cheesy chicken and crispy Brussels sprouts. Even though she and Ron had played a little bit too much with the potatoes, they were still smooth, creamy, and delicious. The spinach was perfectly tender and well salted. Being Emily’s favorite vegetable, Ron made sure that her plate had an extra scoop.
By Kale Sinclair3 months ago in Fiction
Terminate.
The theatre smelled of antiseptic and silence. It was a Tuesday morning in late October, the sort of grey London day that makes the whole city seem to whisper. The nurse had spoken softly, as though afraid to wake something sleeping. “You’ll just lie here, love. It won’t take long.” Amira nodded. Her lips trembled though she tried to keep them still. Her palms were cold. Malik sat on the metal chair near the door, elbows on his knees, head bowed. He looked like a man waiting for a verdict. Neither spoke. The only sound was the hum of the lights above and the slow, rhythmic hiss of the heating vent. Two years ago, they had met in the university library, arguing over a constitutional law question neither of them understood. She had laughed first, because he had pronounced jurisprudence like a word made of pebbles. He had said she had the kind of smile that could make the law itself less terrifying. They had been careful, mostly. Careful about their studies, their parents’ expectations, their reputations. Malik’s mother called from Accra every Sunday, reminding him that he was the family’s hope. “You carry our name in your hands,” she would say. Amira’s mother sent long voice notes from Cairo filled with blessings and warnings, each sentence ending in a prayer.
By Test3 months ago in Fiction
Parallel Paths
Have you ever wondered how your life might have been different? Wondered what-if..., or 'if I had just...'? Looked back at a decision, large or small, and considered what would have changed if you'd chosen differently? Life is like a river, filled with forks and branches and offshoots of what might have been.
By Natasja Rose3 months ago in Fiction
The Robot. Honorable Mention in Parallel Lives Challenge.
The skeletons in my closet are just old versions of me. The ones I starved so I could survive, locked behind the door with them in darkness. Fear led me to believe that staying confined was noble if it kept you from drifting away from the people you love, but there is one past version of me that just won’t die.
By Aura Starling3 months ago in Fiction
The Elevator in the Winchester building on Winslet Street
We were born on the 3rd of October, in the hospital on Fourth Street, and our mother's called us Edward. We lived a block away from each other our whole lives. He lived on Strathman Avenue, a stones throw away from Portman Avenue where I lived until I was ten years old. When my family moved, I changed schools to the Catholic college in the east of town.
By Jaimie3 months ago in Fiction
Across The Merderet. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I sped off to the recruiting post in Galena. Even though my birth certificate at St. Michaels said that Joseph F. Higgins was Born 1927 not 1926 like I told the recruiter, I wasn’t going to let that one year stop me. Hell or high water I was going to be a paratrooper.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 months ago in Fiction
The Other Way Home
On a wet April evening when the city had dimmed itself to a bruise, Lina stepped into a mirror and met the life she hadn’t chosen.
By Cadma3 months ago in Fiction
The Quiet that Remembers. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Where the River Splits... Some nights, Lena dreams she is two women standing in the same rain. One stands at the kitchen sink, wrists submerged in cloudy dishwater, eyes fixed on the window as the sky turns the color of bruised fruit. Her wedding ring glints each time she moves.
By Ana Carter3 months ago in Fiction
Chloe's Enchanted Keyhole
Chloe was peeking through the keyhole in their attic. She saw a rainbow over a beautiful waterfall. The waterfall looked like the waterfall in the picture over the living room fireplace.
By Mariann Carroll3 months ago in Fiction
The Bench Beneath the Maple Tree. AI-Generated.
The wind was cool that afternoon, the kind of soft chill that made the world smell like wood, earth, and memories. The park was quiet—just the rustle of leaves, a few distant voices, and the rhythmic crunch of footsteps on dry ground.
By Alpha3 months ago in Fiction
🌧️ The Weight of Raindrops. AI-Generated.
The rain began the day Samuel decided to stop waiting. He stood at the edge of the pier, his reflection trembling in the dark water, and wondered if the sky could feel as heavy as his chest.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction