Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Ms. Abbott
It was the height of summer when even the evening winds blow warm and don’t offer much relief. We’d distract ourselves from the heat by runnin’ and hollerin’ like untamed creatures. We’d try and cool off with sips of lemonade our Mas made, and sips of beer offered by our Pas, when our Mas weren’t looking of course.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
My Little Monster
The pills have stopped working. I could feel myself growing stronger. I only took the pills to appease my uptight husband anyway. He had a problem with me looking the way I normally did on a regular basis. Yes, the pills kept me pretty, at least in his eyes, but they had side effects. They made me weaker, smaller, and reduced my senses like smell, sight and hearing. And I hated the way I looked on these pills, it’s not natural.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
Deer Sissy
Cain't say no to a challenge from Heather! This is for the Write me a letter challenge. Deer Sissy, I jes thot I wood rite and ketch you up on things since you bin gone. By the way, this is me, just so you don't have to wait til the end to figger it out. Momma sez hi, and told me to hurry up cuz I gotta change her bath water soon. I guess this will be a short letter.
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Fiction
Sat on the Bed. Content Warning.
As we sat on the bed, just sitting on the edge of the bed. There was nothing we could say, nothing I could say to lessen the blunt force trauma our lives had received. Love was still in the air, I knew that much but grief was taking up space in the atmosphere too. So, we just sat. I knew she would talk when she needed to and while I needed to talk too, now was not the time. Now was the time for silent reflect and memorialising to the life that was lost. Now was the time to sit in the grief and let it wash over us. There is no point trying to hold back the tears or the anger. We are not a dam that can hold back a surge from the river. We could try, but if we did, we would just build up the force and strength of the grief.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
You Can Do Magic
“You're the one that can put out the fire, you know darn well when you cast your spell you will get your way-” “PanDan, if you don't get your lollygagging tookus down here this instant and help us out, you'll get nothing for Samhain! And stop singing, you know how it might affect things!”
By Meredith Harmon2 years ago in Fiction
Autumn Days
The pavement is pied with amber, russet, browns of every shade, its dirty grey now pooled with rough edged warmth, papering the fissures in rain slick copper and bronze. Our feet upon it step in time, the rhythm of many years of walking side by side, on spring bright grass, on summer scorched earth and on autumnal mulch, layers of leaf mould soft and giving beneath us. We have matured together, stride for stride, and delight in this easy symbiance even as we take it for granted now. Weaving our bodies, more stiffly that when our spines were fresh and sinuous, around the wooden kissing gate and into the glow of the wood at the end of the lane, we both start to listen for familiar sounds, the soft curring bass of the wood pigeons, the liquid treble of the goldfinch, the shrill pips of the robins, but always, the soft footfalls of the other, the shifts in attention, the breath, the ever present breath.
By Hannah Moore2 years ago in Fiction
One Minute Past Midnight
The great-grandmother alternated pacing and sitting in her rocker threatening to wear two rocker-shaped holes in the wooden floor. Her eyes were red from the crying and she twisted the small cloth clutched in her hands back and forth until her wrists hurt. She muttered in a sing-song voice that would have led any eavesdropper to think she was casting spells. Indeed, perhaps she was.
By Suzy Jacobson Cherry2 years ago in Fiction
