Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
This Place. Runner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge.
Atticus Black. A glassy reflection to it that made him think of beached whales, slick with oil after a tanker spill. He blew smoke down into it and watched it swirl and linger like a fog. Slowly, it faded and the features of his face reappeared in disjointed form, fragmented in the rippled liquid. Fragmented, he thought. Pulled apart. The liquid settled further and his face came into clear view within it. Broken. He pulled on his cigarette, exhaled and brought the coffee to his lips.
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Fiction
I Like Rainbows and I Like Unicorns
Douglas Dugan held the door open for his 73-year-old brother Dennis as they entered the restaurant. Dennis refused to walk in, "You walk in," Dennis commanded to Doug, "People are going to think we're a couple of old fairies."
By Rick Henry Christopher 3 years ago in Fiction
Remember Me
Matthew I hate mailboxes. In days past, they brought personal news along with bills and advertisements. A handwritten letter stimulated excitement because someone took pen and paper and conveyed their thoughts. A handwritten note represented time and effort. My Dad's generation cherished letters and saved them for decades as stored memories. Nothing good ever comes in the mailbox anymore and today was no exception.
By J. S. Wade3 years ago in Fiction
The Prank
"Reset your password” the computer screen flashed. I was about to begin class, and I ignored the prompt. I’m Jerry Lugar, a sixth grade science teacher at Pearl Middle School. This period I was teaching the ‘troubled’ students. I assumed they had done something to the computer to activate the prompt, so I’d deal with it after class. Every day they’d play another prank.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Through Empty Eyes. First Place in Behind the Last Window Challenge.
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She spent long hours perched by the alcove window - a rare amenity for a no-frills New York City apartment, she had heard. For the "low, low" price of $2950, they, too, could have a heavily obstructed view of the Hudson river, barely gleaming out from behind the mammoth, pre-war brick and mortar apartment complex behind his. A 450 square foot 'paradise' in the city that never sleeps- laughable, but it wasn't as if either of them needed much space. Besides- while she was sure the Hudson was beautiful in all of its glory, she much preferred the view she did have: endless rows of windows in the building just across the way gave her a peek into the daily lives of people she had begun to see as friends. It was an intimate relationship she shared with them- seeing their most private and vulnerable moments through the filmy annealed glass. She couldn't speak to them, but she loved every single one of them. She had seen romances blossom, and friendships end. She had seen age wash over faces once young and full of promise. She had seen love and loss, grief and joy; the taste of those things was as close to feeling them herself as she ever needed. She'd resigned herself to watch over them for as long as she'd have this window. She wondered, on the lonelier nights, if they ever looked back at her, too.
By Christiane Winter3 years ago in Fiction
The Committee Provides. Second Place in Behind the Last Window Challenge.
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Stood at the threshold, buttoning up his coat, George Mote watched her tug at her long plait of blue-black hair. Her gaze, heavy with grief, never shifted from the cracked concrete and leafless vegetation outside his block of flats.
By Charlie C. 3 years ago in Fiction
To Be a Clean Human
Dear Egnals, It has been 10 Earth days since my last report, and I have now been a “roommate” for 3.5 Earth weeks. I am approaching my second month’s “rent check” and I have been informed that if I do not live a more hygienic lifestyle, I will be exiled. I have tried to keep a low profile while I study the Earth creatures, as you know there was a short scuffle over the human energy sources that are kept in the cold box. All energy sources are now labeled with the names of the other females, with their guidance I successfully used currency to buy my own energy sources, they have now been labeled “Samantha.” They assumed my lack of knowledge in this area was due to my “accent,” when they asked where I came I blurted out “Gorgon” without thinking, luckily they assumed it was just an area of this world they had not heard of.
By Victoria Rivera3 years ago in Fiction
Calamel
Every fallen angel needs a guardian human, and Calamel was very fond of his. The human brought dirty, cold and desperate Calamel home, took care of him as the angel got used to his new body and learned to walk again – balance was horribly off without the wings, and listened to Calamel’s stories. Of course, the human did not understand a word of what the angel was saying, but he listened patiently and made comforting noises in all the right places.
By Vadim Kagan3 years ago in Fiction
My Lion Makes Me Brave
The world was at war and had been for a year. It began in September 1939 when Germany invaded Poland. We all know the story, but it’s important to understand that by the time the Blitz started in, the war had not been going on for all that long at all. But we were somehow a threat to Nazi Germany, even though we were just trying to get by and live our lives. Did you know that civilians made up almost three times the number of casualties compared to soldiers for the allied forces? They don’t talk about that enough in schools nowadays.
By Catherine Gilpin3 years ago in Fiction
