Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Bryolic. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
The forest is never silent, even at dusk. Leaves rustle, peepers sing in the distance, the creek trickles peacefully. The sounds, though, are dampened by the thick moss that coats the forest. It has spread like a blanket, like a virus, across the trees and the rocks and the earth.
By Alana S. Leonard2 years ago in Fiction
A Treasury of New Words and Terms for Burned-Out (Adult) Children. Content Warning.
Greetings and Welcome, language lovers. Following the Neolomicro Challenge, I was left with a lot of bizarre definitions that I thought might give some of you a chuckle. These are the offcuts that I ran out of time / inclination to pursue. I hope you enjoy them, and that they can be the start of a glorious new dictionary for these beleaguered times.
By Conor Darrall2 years ago in Fiction
She Was Emma
Always, she was Emma and I was Amy. We met in preschool and hit it off immediately. I reasoned that we needed to be friends because we were both 4 years old and our names sounded the same. She understood what I meant: the names Emma and Amy feel the same in your mouth. We were inseparable. Parents, teachers and friends referred to the two of us all at once: Emma'n'Amy. Emmanamy. Emma-and-Amy.
By Rebekah Conard2 years ago in Fiction
AFTER THE MISSION
1943 Twenty-five B24 Liberator Bombers flew from Soluch Field in Libya, Africa. The target was Naples, Italy. Blinding sandstorms caused most of the bombers to return to the base. A few planes continued on. In the night sky, we became the lone B24 bomber.
By Babs Iverson2 years ago in Fiction
Recaffeination
A pleasant neighbourhood café, he thought. Nothing about it too pretentious and maybe…just maybe…not too expensive? He looked at the tables and chairs in the dim light. Mid-afternoon, and there was still plenty of space (strange for a Friday?). And the line was not too long at the counter. Three schoolkids – did he know those uniforms – and the usual screenplay writers who would not write a damn thing… He knew the type.
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Fiction
In The Silence of Fear
Where I was, I wasn't entirely certain of. But, I knew I couldn't stay there for too long. As the heat was getting unbearable and I had nothing to protect myself from the scorching Sun. Nor do I have any water to quench my thirst. Nor food for now or later.
By Raphael Fontenelle2 years ago in Fiction
