Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Writers.
Who Knows What I Am?
May of 2023. Just a few months from year 35 on this orbital rock; metal, gas and moisture coated planet. I had a startling fact bloom in front of my heart and grip it like a pitcher. Baseball in hand and needing one last strike out to win the championship. Bases loaded and the batter with a full count. Bottom of the 9th and everything is riding on the pitch.
By Bianca Hubbard2 years ago in Writers
Superstar Christmas
Uh-oh its that time of year. Christmas and presents. Cooking and traveling. And they expect me to do a holiday song. I haven't had good cooking since Mom. And I would like to go back home but things have changed. I have a woman and I am rich and I am famous. Mom wouldn't understand. Mom is religious. Mom is not into the Superstar thing. I should just avoided this time and take a break from festive doings. Then I had a dream a few days ago. My mom wanted me to come for Christmas. She was really hurt that I did not call her. And that I did not come. And she said I should of came for my father. And how my family miss me. I woke up sweating next to Grace. Grace thought I had a nightmare. I told her the dream but she did not know that much about my family because I never told her much. I thought she wouldn't think too highly of me if I was that normal. Especially since she was hot glamour model. The following week later, i daydream about this angel who told me that love will come back into my heart. That all these lies and charades were gonna stop. And that i was not raised this way. Christmas is about love and you will show love. I tried to shake the dream off and I couldn't concentrate in the sound booth. So my manager told me to take the day off. Then I saw these kids playing and I laughed. I saw them throwing snowballs and it reminded me of when I was younger with my siblings. I stood for a good hour and laugh with them. After I helped one side then they all ganged on me. Then we made snow angels. I finally got back home to my woman. And Grace said Mikey I'm pregnant. And I was shocked. And we had a little argument that's when she said she is going over her friends' house. I was alone. And I thought that I was fun until I got sick. For three whole days, coughing, sneezing and just everything coming from one end to the next. It was like I was dying. I was hoping to just live. My sides hurted, my lungs exhausted and I was just clumsy. Then I made a promise if I get better I will build a family and go back to my mother's family. I even said God. And I eventually healed remembering Mom's advice to drink electrolytes and fluids and to eat when you feel like it. All those days turning and tossing, whining and complaining, pulling myself to get ready for the day. I even started listening back to other people's music. And I finally got better with adjustments. And I had the radio on, listening to Christmas songs throughout the ordeal. I would never look at Christmas songs anymore the way I used to even as a kid. They gave me joy about tomorrow. They gave me hope about the future. They made me smile. I became a better person. They told me that there is much to be done. And much good to do. I called up Grace and I called up Mom. Grace answered and was about to hang up until I said I love her and I want to marry her. Grace broke down. And I told Grace if she come back I will tell her the true story about my family with my family. Mom did not recognized my voice. But she broke down when I said its Little Mikey your son. Mom exclaimed that she did not care what happened in the past was the past. And that now she was all about the future. And me. She said she love me and care deeply about me and her prayers were heard. Last but not least I thank the angels, i told them I would sing any song they want from my Superstar's podium. And that's when the words of OH YEAH IT'S CHRISTMASTIME. And I even asked if I could dedicated to the little boys and little girls across the world. And they gave the okay even for my one yet to be borne.
By Distinguished Honorary Alumni Dr. Matthew Primous2 years ago in Writers
Piecing together a murder mystery
If like me you are not sure where to start with Vocal's latest challenge, don't panic. There is a way to break down the problem and come up with a solution that will allow you to concentrate on your creativity, create your characters, and map out your mystery.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Writers
Solara's Stand. Content Warning.
In a vast, dense forest, there stood a solitary tree named Solara. Unlike the towering, densely packed trees surrounding her, Solara found herself alone, a single entity amidst the thriving woodland. Despite her solitary existence, Solara possessed an unyielding spirit and an unwritten tale that unfolded through the whispers of the wind and rustling leaves.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
Rising from Ashes: From candlelight dreams to city skyscrapers. Content Warning.
Once upon a time in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush green fields, there lived a young boy named Ravi. He came from a humble and impoverished family, where each day brought new challenges and struggles. Despite the hardships, Ravi possessed an unwavering determination to break free from the cycle of poverty and make something meaningful out of his life.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
Fields of Love
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush green fields, lived a young boy named Aryan and a poor, yet spirited girl named Leela. Aryan came from a family of modest means, while Leela's family struggled to make ends meet, working hard in the fields to earn their livelihood.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
All we need to know
Identity Who am I? What am I? How is my identity determined? Is it decided by what people see on the outside? By how I feel on the inside? I am a wife and a widow. A mother and a daughter. A friend, a partner, a lover. The list goes on (theoretically) indefinitely – scientist, scholar, teacher, caretaker… - are all those identities discrete? Of course not. They are all descriptions of ME.
By Jill Harper-Judd2 years ago in Writers
I am what I choose
I Am What I Choose (Identity) Jill Harper-Judd I’ve been turning this idea of identity over in my head for a few weeks now. Initially I thought “Oh, I have plenty I can say about that!” And I do. But at the same time, writing about those specific times in my life or reflecting on choices I’ve made feels a bit self-serving – very much a “look at me and how good I am” …and that isn’t in any way my goal. I don’t know that I’m all that good. I’m human. I’m imperfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes…although I do try to learn from them. As we’ve all heard many times…good judgment comes from prior bad judgment.
By Jill Harper-Judd2 years ago in Writers
Grey Tree Frogs: Are They Poisonous to Humans?. Content Warning.
Grey tree frogs are tree frogs that have rough and warty skin. Though it's called a grey tree frog, its color is not grey. Their color can change from pale green to grey with spots of dark grey, but it depends on where they are.
By Shishir Ahmed Prima2 years ago in Writers
From Light To Darkness, "Mommy" to "Your Mother". Top Story - December 2023.
I Was Sirena The first thing I lost was my face. It faded into the steamed glass fog my vision was becoming as cataracts in my fourteen-year-old eyes sought to claim what little sight remained to me. I looked into a mirror every day and watched myself be erased.
By Sirena Carroll - The Blind Single Mom2 years ago in Writers
