Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Language of Absence
The stovetop ticked as the burner cooled, a rhythmic, cooling sound that bit into the silence of the kitchen. John didn’t move. He sat at the pine table, his fingers tracing the wood grain, waiting. He watched the steam curl toward the ceiling, a white plume turning grey in the dim morning light. Only when the heat had settled into a low, radiating warmth did his daughter, Mara, enter the room.
By Tim Carmichael2 days ago in Fiction
Mattie in a Naked World.
Mattie woke up this morning and found herself back in the days of the natural state of the unclothed-ness of existence. People were walking around quite naked, literally... as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The non wearing of clothing had long been behind Mattie for over 90,000 to 170,000 years ago...yet here she was surrounded by a wonder of nakedness. She looked down on her nude state and had the distinctive urge to cover herself.
By Novel Allen2 days ago in Fiction
As the World Turns...and turns
I take up my pen and go back to the time, only a year or so ago...when the world felt almost peaceful - except for the regions and corners of life where people insisted on wars. But somehow, they then seemed like another whole world away from me.
By Novel Allen2 days ago in Fiction
Witnesses to a Gorgon's Cruel Silence
High on the flank of Mount Helicon, where the old temple to Athena clung like lichen to the rock, the wind never stopped singing. It keened through cracked columns, stirred dust along the mosaic floor, and carried the faint mineral scent of the sacred spring that still trickled in the inner courtyard. Few pilgrims came anymore. The oracle at Delphi had declared the place unclean; the goddess had turned her face away. Only one attendant remained, sent not by devotion but by decree.
By Diane Foster2 days ago in Fiction
The City That Never Sleeps
The sun hung high in the sky, bright and unyielding, its glare washing the streets in relentless light. People emerged from their homes squinting, rubbing their eyes, but no one complained. The world insisted on being normal, and so they followed. Children skipped down the sidewalks carrying blankets, pretending they were nightcaps, while their parents waved cheerfully and called out to neighbors who, like them, acted as though the sun’s permanence was nothing out of the ordinary.
By Lukáš Hrdlička2 days ago in Fiction
A Clever Trick
Smith was flat broke. He lived in a crummy thatched hut in the village, and every summer, mosquitoes would chew him up alive. Smith was so ticked off but had zilch to do about it, so he snapped at the mosquitoes, “Once I strike it rich, you bugs are gonna get it!” Then Smith hightailed it south to find a job.
By John Bruce2 days ago in Fiction
Kitten's Kitchen. Part 3. A dumpling masterclass with Chef Whiskers
Summer passed, and the first cool winds announced the coming of autumn. In the little cottage beneath the lilac bush, everything grew even cozier: the stove crackled in the evenings, bundles of dried herbs hung in the pantry, and jars of preserves stood neatly upon the shelves. Dear Grandmother more and more often allowed her furry pupils to work on their own, for she knew that true skill is strengthened through practice.
By Ludmila Pachadgi2 days ago in Fiction
Inside Rebels
Mr. Harrow collected the exams, his face a mask of indifference that barely concealed a flicker of curiosity. As you walked past his desk, Elena whispered, “Whatever happens, we did our best.” You nodded, the seriousness of the journey still heavy, but a quiet pride settled in your chest. When the results were posted, you found your name at the top of the list, a bright red “A+” staring back, while Mr. Harrow’s reaction was a barely perceptible pause—an involuntary moment of recognition that you had, against all odds, outperformed his expectations.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
Inside Rebels
You stared at the chalk‑dusted blackboard, the harsh scrape of the marker echoing the teacher’s voice as it cut through the quiet of the classroom, and you felt the weight of every syllable settling like a stone on your shoulders. It was Mr. Harrow, the man whose reputation for cruelty preceded him, and you and your partner, Elena, had already learned to keep your heads down when he entered the room. “If you cannot answer the question, you are simply unworthy of learning,” he had snarled, his eyes flicking between you as if searching for a crack in your resolve. The air grew colder, and you sensed Elena’s trembling hand brush against the edge of the desk, a subtle reminder that you were not alone in the mounting dread.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
A Pair Of Lips Will Say Anything
It’s just before 8:30 am. The new/young mom, Tamia promised Samantha and James she’d have Brailey to their house already. She made a rule for herself from the moment of her daughter’s birth: not to rush. She arrives at their home with the baby in tow. They were used to the little one. At the same time, Brailey was still getting used to the young couple. James begins a roll-call of all the things in her diaper bag. Ensuring everything was accounted for. While he is doing that Sam is keeping Bray entertained. In hopes, Mommy can sneak out the door undetected. James reassures Tamia that her precious cargo is in excellent hands. The young Mom, backs out of the driveway realizing she forgot, to leave the car seat. She sits it just inside the door, without either of them noticing.
By Jacqueline Elaine Hudson2 days ago in Fiction
