Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Abominable No-Meatman
So, I had an idea. I was wondering if Pennywise the dancing clown went vegan because he wanted to befriend humanity, what would he eat? Would there be food options for him, or would he have to starve just to be put in a better light with us humans. So I’ve created a special restaurant and menu just for him. This way, if Pennywise were to become vegan, he wouldn’t have to get creative with his dietary choices, I’ve done it for him. I’ve taken the work out of going vegan on his behalf! Here is a special restaurant and menu I made just for our friend, Pennywise!
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
The Longest Minute. Content Warning.
A minute. Sixty seconds to say goodbye. That’s all the time that I had left with him as the needle slid into his leg. I stared into his drooping eyes, looked at the blood-tainted saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. They said that this was the best thing that we could do for him, a last kind act for a best friend…but if that were the case, then why did my heart feel so heavy?
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Fiction
Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler2 years ago in Fiction
The Hour Long Minute
I’m finally off of work from my overnight shift and now comes the hard part. I do Ride-share driving for about two or three hours after I get off of work each morning, not only to make ends meet, but to put away a little extra money for my rapidly approaching wedding.
By Earl W. Pearl2 years ago in Fiction
Spectating. Runner-Up in Just a Minute Challenge.
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford2 years ago in Fiction
Perfect Little Pirate
The rough, sodden rope bit into her fingers as she swung over the roiling water far below. Reaching out with the toe of her boot, she managed to catch hold of the rain-soaked railing of the ship- and promptly slipped. Throwing herself forward, she landed hard on the deck, slamming her elbows against the wood planks. Her sharp yelp of pain quickly bubbled into a laugh, and she rolled onto her back, laughing up at the gray sky as a torrent of rain washed away the soot covering her skin.
By M. A. Mehan 2 years ago in Fiction
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle2 years ago in Fiction
Two Pink Lines
I had never really felt like a child. I'd always had to raise myself. My mother was just a teenager when she'd had me and consequently, we had spent my whole childhood arguing and fighting like a couple of sisters as opposed to mother and daughter. My father was older than my mother but still had some maturing to do himself. He focused his entire life on me, his little girl but never realized the pressure that put on me. I always felt I had to raise him even as he was trying to raise me. We raised each other. Then, I met him. He cares, he shows me a love like I've never known. For once, it's about me and I don't have to focus on other people's needs and what someone needs from me. Someone always wants something from you. That is what my parents have taught me. Love is selfish but it isn't with him. He is perfect, beautiful, funny, and can take me to places I've only dreamed about. Places outside my mind and my own pathetic life and I know that I will always love him. When we first met, I wanted him to have my children, but now? Right now, with us both still in high school? This is all happening so soon. I slipped into the restroom at work. It had been 6 weeks since my last menstrual and this was not normal. I couldn't wait any longer. I put the top on the test and waited. These 60 seconds felt like forever. What would we do? We were both seniors so we didn't have long to go before school was over but this was not the plan. The plan was for him to join the Army and me the National Guard and for me to get my associate's degree and then we marry, then have kids.
By Lindsey Altom2 years ago in Fiction
