Top Stories

Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

Collymore Calls It
The knocking is persistent but Cordelia doesn’t want to see anyone just now, for beneath her flawless style of dress and coolness of one liners, Cordelia Collymore is beginning to come apart at the seams.
By Marie Wilson3 months ago in Fiction
The Blinking Reality
The beeping invades my mind like a probe, a thin, needle-sharp sound boring into my skull. I try to open my eyes but they are taped shut, and the thin adhesive pulls uncomfortably at my skin. Then I hear the nurse say, ‘You are safe; you are in the hospital. Please try to relax.’
By Sam H Arnold3 months ago in Fiction
Time For You To Disappear
Inspector Pericon and his offsider, Detective Luke Farrier, knocked on the door. “Good evening, Mrs Lockhart. Can we have a few minutes? It's about your husband’s disappearance.”
By Calvin London3 months ago in Fiction
For Better Or For Worse
Eli pressed his eye to the keyhole. The hallway beyond was dim, lit by a single dying bulb that pulsed like it was taking its last breath. Eli had avoided this door for most of the time he’d lived here.
By Tennessee Garbage3 months ago in Fiction
Chemtrails
I lay in the grass, blades tickling the back of my ears and the nape of my neck. The sky is streaked with cirrus clouds, wispy and waif-like. Something stands out among them, though—a little airplane. It travels softly through the sky. It is slow and without care. Though it seems to last forever—a tiny snail slugging its way across the open sidewalk—if you missed it passing by you might have never known it was there.
By Raine Neal3 months ago in Fiction
The Legend of Long-Shanks
Goody Patience had just laid her head upon the pillow when it happened. For a moment, she believed she were dreaming, so she rolled over and paid it no heed. Her eyes snapped open again the same second she closed them, however, when she heard it once more: a sharp knock-knock-knocking on the front door downstairs.
By Natalie Gray4 months ago in Fiction
Knock, Knock, Don't Let The Wolf King In
Two Falls. After her Aunt died, she got a knock on her door. Autumn hardly got anyone knocking on her door. She was very cautious in opening the door. Her pet owl hooted three times to
By Mariann Carroll3 months ago in Fiction
Surrender. Runner-Up in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
Gerald ignored the knock at the door at first. Thinking back on it later, he wondered how Max had knocked with such authority. Surely, if someone abandons you, their knock should have a meekness commensurate with the level of abandonment. This was no soft rapping at the door. It was strong, steady, and on the beat. After the third chorus, Gerald abandoned his soggy cereal, save the mush currently in his mouth. Making his way through the living room, Gerald’s threadbare bathrobe softly flapped from minimal effort. He opened the door and covered his eyes from the glare of the morning sun. He grumbled at the light’s intrusion. Without Max, he’d had little reason to suffer the outdoors. Now, here he was. The abandoner himself.
By Sean A.3 months ago in Fiction
You Thought I Was Gone
Dear Susan I would have knocked on your door, but I thought I would write a letter instead. "Look in your mailbox"!!! I am no one in particular, just a voice from your past. However, I am just as alive as you are.
By Susan Payton3 months ago in Fiction
Thorn in My Side
The nurse practitioner looked at Paula’s side to inspect the mole of concern. It wasn’t exactly on her side; the lesion in question was a bit more around her right side toward her back. She had become concerned because, as best as she could see by the acrobatic twisting she needed to do using two mirrors, it had changed in the last month.
By Gerard DiLeo3 months ago in Fiction
THE POUNDING
THE POUNDING * No, it wasn’t Halloween. In fact, it wasn’t even autumn yet. The nights were almost as warm as the days. Spring break was approaching and my boys looked forward to a week off school. Ah, school!! My mind momentarily wandered back to the past – to my high school days. Oh, what fun they were. Now, here I sat enjoying a nighttime cup of tea, while my boys, ages eight and ten were snuggled in their beds sound asleep. My husband? Well, he’d taken off years earlier. Oh well, good riddance, I always said.
By Margaret Brennan4 months ago in Fiction
Monster
I ran with no regard for the blood dripping down my face. I listened for the sound of pursuit, but all I heard were my own footsteps and my labored breathing.
By Julie Lacksonen4 months ago in Fiction