Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
What the F is Magical Realism?
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. "Ummm...what the heck did I just read?" I said to my hovering coworkers, tapping my fingernails against my rather anachronistic journal and fountain pen while staring into the bright and unnatural light of my laptop screen.
By Donna Renee3 years ago in Fiction
The Saturation of Souls
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Shades as brilliant and bold as violet and plum mingled with precious pastels of lilac and lavender, spread thin across the heavens like gossamer silk. Veins of eggplant swirled in the shadows, while contrasting splashes of orchid beamed in the luminescent eye of the silvery moon.
By Kelly Robertson3 years ago in Fiction
A Terrible Thing. Runner-Up in If Walls Could Talk.
“If walls could talk,” I heard her whisper absently, as she sat on the top stair of my sagging porch under a dark sky. Barefoot, jeans rolled up past her ankles, Diana fixed her gaze on a horizon she couldn't see and barely blinked at all. A single cigarette sat alongside a book of matches from Frankie's Pub and Pizzeria on the buckled gray boards beside her. No bugs chirruped or buzzed in the night; no nocturnal scavengers rattled around the rusty trashcans out back. The big yellow dog rested her head on her paws and silently stared out into the same abyss as Diana, eyes glistening.
By Marsha Singh3 years ago in Fiction
The Hunger of Sea Glass
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Generations had grown on the foothills of Ambria and gazed in wonder of their choreography, humbled by the majesty of nature and beauty locked in an unending embrace. The dreamscape of twilight was an enduring reminder that all is as it was and always would be, a shining glimpse of eternity.
By Call Me Les16 days ago in Fiction
The Altered Sands of the Soul
Hobnailed shoes pinched my feet as I pushed through the Mississippi farm fields toward the greenhouse behind the antebellum mansion. My quest for destruction had brought me back in time one hundred and ninety years to the year 1833. If I could destroy the literal seeds of slavery at its root, I could change the history of the world and millions of lives.
By J. S. Wade3 years ago in Fiction
Drystane
Waking up from another noisy night, Drystane began to open his eyes as his consciousness gather. Staring across the living room, the singing of songbirds outside told him that it was the early morning even though the sun had barely begun to rise. Letting out a yawn, he was greeted with an elderly gruff voice.
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Fiction
