Top Stories
New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
Sympathy and Cake
Only she remembered what happened on the wedding day. But she was just a cat. It was their wedding, but they allowed her to be a part of it. Humiliating in its own way, but to have the ceremony so near the home was quite charming and peaceful. And it was a beautiful day…at first.
By Kendall Defoe 5 months ago in Fiction
The Borrowed Face
Elisabetta was woken by shivers that ran up and down her spine. She found herself lying on the dew covered, lush grass. Her head was pulsing with pain. She must have hit it — why else would she hear music shimmering like bells? She was still in the forest.
By Imola Tóth5 months ago in Fiction
The Shortest Poem Is A Name
8/5/25 THE SHORTEST POEM IS A NAME After Anne Michaels The shortest poem is a name. It is fewer letters than breaths, less thought, more familiarity. It is yours to have and mine to harbor, yours to sustain, mine to fatten with vows that hit your larynx like a medicinal drip. The shortest poem is a hum of every sound that has ever been, and it sounds like nothing at all. It is the quickest fleet of fleeting feelings, the smallest feeling of feat that eats at the things you eat— anything to obscure the sunset view through the windshield— anything to keep the light out. The shortest poem writes itself in agony, reaching around limbs and rooms of consciousness to cross a letter that makes no difference to the thing itself. It plugs its ears when I set the dinner table, holds its breath when I open the blinds, closes its eyes when I say its name. I cannot hold the hand of a thing too small to hear, but I can paint the walls with great reflections of life— too big to feed and too slow to feel for more than the fleeting fleet it takes to reach between a rib and write The End.
By Olivia Dodge5 months ago in Poets
Fear River. Honorable Mention in Everything Looks Better From Far Away Challenge.
From time to time, Old Annie could remember how she found the piece of that vintage telephone. How a creek running out from the swamp had washed it down, held crawdad hatchlings under an eddy, and then tumbled itself shiny along the bed.
By Mackenzie Davis5 months ago in Fiction
Alexandra Feodorovna
She was the Empress Consort of Russia who was assassinated by the Bolsheviks during the Russian Revolution.She unknowingly passed on haemophilia to her only son and the heir to the Russian throne. She was a granddaughter of Queen Victoria and is remembered as the last Tsarina of Russia. She had a gentle and kind nature but was badly misunderstood by the ladies of the Russian Court.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff5 months ago in FYI
Can we please stop demonising lack of attraction?
I want to talk about something I'm feeling really passionate about in my mid-forties, following twenty-five years of dating and relationship experiences; physical attraction, and the traditional idea of monogamy. Also what I observe from other people's marriages, relationships, and needs.
By Karen Cave5 months ago in Humans
