Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Table Number 12
The day was January 3, 1946, a new year that followed on the cusp of a war that had devastated all for nearly seven long years. World War II had taken a toll on everyone, but thankfully, the event now was over. Much of the recovery process had begun after the end of war on May 8th of the year before, but all would be much better when the world returned to normal. The years that followed would surely encompass a true renewal. Don wasn’t much of a church goer, but he gave a heartfelt prayer, nonetheless, for such.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Decision
As I woke up the sun rays sipped through the blinds stabbing my eyes reminding me of the reality I had to live with and the decision I had to make. No one rushed me to make a choice but time did, time wasn’t on my side. If I didn't make the decision soon I wouldn’t have a choice, time would have decided for me.
By Ropafadzo Thokozani Zinyuke (Fadzo) about a year ago in Fiction
Scorched Earth
Humbly, they all went to the flames. One by one. Hardy smelled them as they burned, but there were no screams. "We done a good one here today, Hardy," the mayor spoke, husky and choked. The hat was low. The edge covered dark eyes watered from the smoke. "We done a good one, Hardy."
By E.B. Johnson 2 years ago in Fiction
They Take From Us As We Sleep
“THEY TAKE FROM US AS WE SLEEP” had been sprayed on the overpass a year ago. The context of the words was not completely understood by anyone who drove under the statement, but a clear sense of agreement was felt by many of those who saw the vandal’s work. No one could say surely what had been lost over the last few or many years, but most would argue that some aspects of the world, once taken for granted, were now gone.
By J. Otis Haas2 years ago in Fiction
Second Tuesday of November
No one knew how the event really started. Between a few beverages at the bar, maybe? Notes passed carefully on the street? Or, perhaps a secret meetup at early hours of the day? Whatever the root source was, we were here now on the second Tuesday of November. Nervous, but also absorbed by the allure.
By Elizabeth Petit2 years ago in Fiction
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 years ago in Fiction
