Top Stories

New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.

Halo-Mist. Winner in Letters to the Moon Challenge.
when I close my eyes To remember your Ayla, that circle of ethereal, eternal burning light My brain fine tunes the beam into feverish, crying music
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 months ago in Poets
Three Knocks Below. Runner-Up in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
Silence has a texture under the sea. It isn’t empty — it breathes. It hums against the steel, curls into the corners, whispers in your skull until you start to hear your own blood. We were two miles beneath the surface when I heard it.
By Thadeus 3 months ago in Fiction
I Still Remember
I still remember that very first meet, The first laugh, the first word, the first step, the first fall, A little hand reaching for mine,
By Colleen Millsteed 26 days ago in Poets
Shooting Star. Content Warning.
Breathing breath into me Spiraling in imagination Endless search for patience Anger dulls my star Rattling bones of skeleton
By Tanya Lei26 days ago in Poets
Longevity. Honorable Mention in The Last Flame Challenge.
Internal heat is the direct source of enthusiasm emotion passion intensity... all things inherent in this ongoing process of existence...
By Lamar Wiggins27 days ago in Poets
The lost dialogue of Philosophocles - 4
If you missed Agonistes Part One, two and three, you may wish to read them by clicking the links below: the lost dialogue of Philosophocles
By John Cox29 days ago in Chapters
Peas in a Pod
"Hello?" "Finally! Where the fuck have you been? It’s the fifth time I’ve called!" "I’m a very busy man. I had things to do."
By Cristal S.24 days ago in Fiction
The Houdi Papers
OMG! This cat is killing me. Her new thing is hide and seek; it used to be tag, but she got bored with that one, and this is her new way of torturing me. She is obsessed with it. And it's nonstop. Unfortunately, we just moved, so there are literally hundreds of places to hide, and she's a cat! Lord, have mercy! We need to get rid of the boxes ASAP bc those are her preferences. To hide in between them. Even worse, if I don't want to play, she finds me and pokes me quickly as a reminder that I can only quit when she says so. Not before.
By Rene Volpi 25 days ago in Humor
A Dreamer
***** I found myself drifting back into some of “the good old days” while listening to songs we used to sing along with without a care in the world.
By Mel E. Furnish12 days ago in Humans
Stolen Bike, Not Valor
Koa was riding his new electric bike through the city park not too far from the US Embassy where he served in an Asian country. The ride was a part of his daily evening workout. He didn't really like the idea of an electric bike because he thought it was lazy. Besides, Koa had another good mountain bike he'd bought here used and it gave him a much better workout. But this one was his girlfriend's gift for his 29th birthday that she had taken the trouble to ship to him across the ocean. Koa felt obliged to ride it out at least occasionally, but promised himself not to use the battery. He even took it off the bike, to avoid the temptation.
By Lana V Lynx25 days ago in Serve
Diary Entry 451. Winner in The Last Flame Challenge.
Today, my husband bought a lighter. I’m scared of fire. He told me to flick it but it was warm to the touch. “Will it burn
By Mackenzie Davis27 days ago in Poets
Cooling Embers. Runner-Up in The Last Flame Challenge.
My husband is a bit of a pyromaniac. We couldn’t get insurance On our wedding barbeque Because he’s known in town For his conflagrations.
By Aubrey Rebecca27 days ago in Poets
The Summoning of the Tree Spirit. Runner-Up in The Ritual of Winter Challenge.
Thank God for Christmas. And Hanukkah. And Yule. And probably a myriad of midwinter gatherings of light, food, and family I’ve never even heard of. Winter is tough, and most of us benefit from something to make it more bearable. Personally, I consider myself lucky to live in an era where frozen earth need not equate to a hungry belly, but even though I can gain eight hundred lumens of light at the flick of a switch, how much more pleasure is there in one hundred little five lumen bursts on a string? Or just fifteen in a candle’s steady glow?
By Hannah Moore29 days ago in Humans
The story of Zero
“Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept…” "What are you doing, mon petit?" "Counting, papa." "Counting?" "Yes, counting. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix!"
By Raymond G. Taylor25 days ago in Fiction
First Love
She was A perfect instructor Hands tracing Lines across Whisper soft texture Varying weight Yielding best results
By Aspen Marie 28 days ago in Poets
A Winter Devotional. Winner in The Ritual of Winter Challenge.
Large, fluffy white flakes swirl slowly to the ground in a gentle, choreographed waltz. Safe and warm inside my house, wrapped in a cozy blanket on the velvet couch, I watch in silence through the huge front window as everything becomes white. The world, time itself, lessens its pace to match the cadence of the first true snowfall.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a month ago in Humans
Pretty Privilege vs. Pretty Punishment
There is a popular conversation around pretty privilege…the idea that attractive people are given advantages, kindness, and opportunities simply because of how they look. It’s a conversation I’ve had with friends, including one dear friend who experiences this privilege openly and comfortably. She’s treated gently. People assume good intent. Doors open easily for her.
By Cadma27 days ago in The Swamp
Authenticity VS. AI: Hypocrites or Flawed?. Content Warning.
“Tell the story only your ghost can tell. Because even in a world that learns to speak without a voice, the real will always tremble
By Luna Jordan29 days ago in Poets
Looking 4Words
“Sometimes softness is what leads to change.” A quote by, well, me. Why? Because not everything has to be loud and done with a bang. While simulatenously, too much is too loud and filled with banging (of metal, bodies, heads…)
By Oneg In The Arctic27 days ago in Writers
Untitled
I pat my brows with a handkerchief I fancy, and I think about the plight we are in today; it makes me squirm. In all my words you seek to find a formula, but your ledgers are filled with trending tabs (ephemeral tallies). You make me feel like I should be held in a box. It is impossible for someone to grow or be better than they were yesterday; simply by choice, they wish to step back and publish a little slower, less frequently.
By Caitlin Charlton28 days ago in Writers