Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
We Stand in Moonlight
We walked around the castle’s defences again. The moon is full tonight and she is stronger than me. As we walk, the guards stare at us, probably wondering which one of us they watch. No one approaches us; they never do. We stand and watch the moon rise over the tallest tree that was planted generations ago. Soon, the moon will reach its highest point. We wait; she wants to see the castle’s lands by silver light and I have neither energy nor inclination to resist her. I do resist sometimes, usually out of anger but sometimes out of fear. Sometimes, the guards don’t even look at us, unsure of which one of us we are or of interrupting us. Sometimes, people even fear to approach us during the day, not even waiting until moonrise to wonder. I do not understand how they can make such a mistake; we act differently and dress differently – something that used to result in a fight, but I have since learned to pick the battles to expend energy on – and her eyes are silver. Even when we wear my clothing and the sun shines, our eyes give us away.
By Dionearia Reda day ago in Fiction
No Signal
The first thing Lorelei noticed was the sound. Not silence — she had expected silence — but a roaring, ceaseless, all-consuming noise. The surf. It came from every direction, a white static that swallowed everything else, and for a long, disoriented moment she thought she had gone deaf and the world had filled the gap with its own voice.
By Parsley Rose a day ago in Fiction
The Short Career of a Serial Killer
He was a happy man he really was, Fred had it all. A wonderful wife named Laura and two little girls - Megan and Pam. He was a nine to five man, working at the local cannery. They packed up vegetables and he even got cans to take home. Being a middle size town, the cannery was the center of it all. So each noon the big whistle would blow, announcing that lunchtime had arrived. It happened rather oddly, strangely I might say.
By Rasma Raistersa day ago in Fiction
The Quilt Maker
The Quilt Maker The woman shifted and shuffled the different cubes of fabric. All of them held different colors, patterns, and shapes. Each one was a different emotion of things. She didn’t know what to put together, but she never really knows. This was part of her process.
By David S. JohnsonWilliamsa day ago in Fiction
The Kolobok Who Learned to Listen. AI-Generated.
Once upon a time, in a small cottage at the edge of a great forest, there lived an old man and an old woman. One chilly morning, the old woman decided to bake a round bread roll — a kolobok. She gathered flour from the barn, eggs from the hen, sour cream from the cellar, and butter from the pantry. She mixed everything together, shaped it into a perfect golden ball, and placed it in the oven.
By Julia Lemona day ago in Fiction
Beyond Twilight.
Twilight arrived before I realized the day was ending. The light didn’t vanish all at once; it thinned, softened, and shifted into something quieter. I stood there watching the sky change, and it struck me how familiar the moment felt. Not because of the colors, but because of the slowing. The steadiness. The sense that something was closing without drama or regret.
By Novel Allena day ago in Fiction
The Strong Word
Studio lights permitted the viewer enough visual stimulation as a NASA engineer’s workspace. The producer, Latrell “Real Weight” Voight, looked black as root beer. He queued up a video of a documentary depicting the construction of a skyscraper in Wilmington, Delaware a few blocks away. The engineer, Argent “Clean Bill” Boggs, possessed the skin color of an oak tree.
By Skyler Saundersa day ago in Fiction
