Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Rapture Of Pigeons
Activity was a high that afternoon at the Sunny Day Assisted Living as Margot waited for her grandson to take her out. When Jake drove up in a 1962 Buick Special convertible, the same marlin blue color that Margot adored, several residents stood up from their chairs to get a better look at the iconic set of wheels.
By C. H. Richard3 years ago in Fiction
illuminación. Runner-Up in Under Purple Clouds Challenge.
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Tonight, Vuela would dance too. She loved the way Mexico City came alive with the clouds – slowly, ponderously, like a child meeting her sibling for the first time. Electric lights flickered among a legion of flat rooftops that stretched across the grassy plains and toward the foothills of Popocatépetl. Tiny, scattered shapes – the Enlightened Ones – took to the skies with the advent of the Hora Morada. On starry nights, pinpricks of distant suns filtered through the clouds and spotted the slopes with hazy circles of illumination.
By Addison Horner3 years ago in Fiction
Man's Best Friend
My humans left for their day jobs just now and that means I can curl up on their bed in comfort without getting caught. There is a crate in the living room and several cozy floor rugs where I could spend the lonely hours, but let's be honest. Is the floor or a cage really the place for man's best friend? I guess my recently adopted sibling, Teddy, can go in the crate if he wants, but I'm staying on the bed!
By Donna Renee3 years ago in Fiction
Symposia
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky - this was a relatively new phenomena. Like all terrestrial bonds, though, the horizon was rekindled and made new. Parts of the whole were highlighted and polished to last forever; that went for all relationships, aware or otherwise.
By Zack Graham3 years ago in Fiction
Warmth
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Waves of green light, like brisk streams in the air, flowed steadily. Someone from a long time ago told him that these soothing Northern Lights were actually the result of a quite violent atmospheric phenomenon: particles from the sun slamming into the atmosphere, sinking into its cracks at the Earth's poles, drowning into an endless sky. He didn't want to remember. He would've seen them if he had looked up before walking into the liquor store—but he stopped looking up a while ago.
By Sophia D'Urso3 years ago in Fiction
Homecoming
Sergeant Roger, a German Shepherd, stared at the starless sky and finished his rawhide strip. He tossed the butt into the grass. The war veteran willed his shaking paw to stop quivering and lifted his leg for one last squirt on the bush before he entered the Veteran of Foreign Wars building. Talking about his service with the K-9 Corps and the war was a catch twenty-two. It helped, but it also hurt. Shepherds tended to withhold how they felt. In the ordinary world, this was a positive, but postwar, the buried trauma had led to a spike in the early deaths of many of his friends and fellow canine soldiers.
By J. S. Wade3 years ago in Fiction
