Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Forgotten: The Story of a Story
I was born of passion. Yearning, burning thirst, in the greening flush of a deluge after the parched silence of drought. So many moments aligned to enable my conception, moments of pain, moments of intimacy, a moment of unworded joy. But perhaps, after all the drama, the moment of my conception was one of quiet happenstance, the dervish whirling well beneath the surface for a change. Probably, my mother didn’t even know, in that moment, as her head lay warm on her lover’s chest in the amber light of a waning afternoon, or as she sat behind the wheel of her car, eyes anchoring her wandering mind to the glazed glow of tail lights in the quickening dusk, that the zygote had formed within her. I don’t know when that dawning realisation came for her, I suppose it is different every time, but I do know, I know with certainty, that I was met with tenderness. With love.
By Hannah Moore2 years ago in Fiction
Gluten Is What Makes This Nation Stick Together
In Hoboken New Jersey, Felix lied to his wife Luna that he was going out only to pick up the sandwiches. Luna was very patriotic about wanting to eat sandwiches for lunch. He knew her preferences well. In the three or four years since they had been married, he couldn’t remember a time when they had ever argued about anything. Next year, they even planned to make a baby.
By Scott Christenson🌴2 years ago in Fiction
The very very best writing
With many thanks to fellow Vocal creators and Vocal + Assist. I asked on the facebook group what was everyone's favorite story or character and these are the ones they came up with. I did promise a little something for the very best of the very very best, so please take a look at the stories suggested and let us all know what you think, by commenting on this post. Also on the stories, of course. I don't mind if you copy and paste from one to the other. If you want to join in, just go to Vocal + Assist. Ask to join the group if you are not already a member and look for the thread. Post your story there and I will add it below when I get a chance. For now, enjoy all this great writing in the stories linked here.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Cried King
"You have so much talent," the voice replayed in his ears. His eyes scanning the dark curtains in front of him. His hands wrapped gently around his bold colored guitar. His nerves taking control of his mind and his movements. He was only 13 years old, but fame had already made up his world.
By Madison B. 2 years ago in Fiction
The Voyage
The ocean water splashed violently over the side of the ship, and lightning cracked the sky with endless whips of thunder. It was the fourth day of the journey, the last two consisted of a storm only Thor could muster. It was as if Odin had cursed them to perish at sea. Were they making a mistake traveling to conquer this new land? Yrsa thought to herself, but immediately banished it. No, I believe this is my purpose! she encouraged herself silently, as she slumped into the soaking wood. Looking up at the sky, full of shimmering stars, she knew Thor was showing his excitement for their journey.
By Clever&WTF2 years ago in Fiction
Breathless. Content Warning.
They told me I could have anyone I wanted, but I wanted him. He was champagne overflowing from a bottle in celebratory sparkles. The white froth of a contented wave. The kind of wild wind that tangled little girls’ hair and made grown women’s hearts race. He was music being played at full volume til people lost their voices screaming along.
By Karissa E.L. Cuff2 years ago in Fiction
Tiny Dancer
Mother Combs travels all over, bringing back oddities and stories of all her adventures. Because of this, she always has the neatest gifts to give her friends. On her latest trip, she returned with a Weedan from the outer edges of the Kingdom of Montebleu.
By Mother Combs2 years ago in Fiction
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream D. A. Ratliff “To sleep, perchance to dream,” Hamlet act 3, scene 1. Screams wafted through the darkened passageway deep within the catacombs. A man held a struggling young girl by the arms, dragging her toward a grimy wooden door crisscrossed with bands of iron.
By D. A. Ratliff2 years ago in Fiction
The November Network
This story is a continuation of "The Final Two Minutes" told from the opposing side and picking up where the events of the previous story leave off. While not necessary to enjoy "The November Network," you can read Part 1 for a fuller appreciation of the context of a world on the brink:
By Stephen A. Roddewig2 years ago in Fiction
