Short Story

Blonde Curls And A Purple Jacket
Trevor's left eye scanned the detective's inquisitive face. While he couldn't tell if Inspector Greenland was lying, he could sense something was wrong. He just didn't know what exactly.
By Moon Desert22 days ago in Fiction
Trouble at the Tea Leafing Café. Honorable Mention in Mismatch Challenge. Top Story - January 2026.
The rain had started right around the time that Annie was buttering her second thick slice of homemade toast for breakfast, and hadn’t paused since. Not that anyone could tell. The windows of the café were fogged over, and with every seat filled with happy customers munching on fresh baked pastries or steaming bowls of the delicious soup of the day, it was hardly surprising. Annie looked around the room, finally taking a moment to breathe after the lunch time rush. Her old life already felt like a bad memory, a part of her history, always, but just that. History.
By Hannah Moore22 days ago in Fiction
Welcome Back
Hazel came back to sell the house, not to stay. After spending her whole childhood feeling trapped, that distinction mattered.
By Steph Marie22 days ago in Fiction
The Burned Pot. AI-Generated.
"The clock has struck three, the coffee is cold, and the shadows are beginning to speak. Welcome back to the desk of The Night Writer, where the stories are brewed in the dark."
By The Night Writer 🌙 22 days ago in Fiction
Nothing to Fear
I hated walking past that mirror. Not only was it ugly but there was something about it that I couldn't explain. An eerie feeling. Like I shouldn't even have that mirror in my house.
By Jasmine Aguilar22 days ago in Fiction
The Ghent Files: A Faerie Simple Conundrum
You know it's going to be a long day when you get a work call in the wee hours of the morning. Only, in my line of work, long days have a habit of being just a bit more than you bargained for. I hardly ever get these sorts of calls, anymore. Since getting my license about five years ago, it's been pretty smooth sailing: lost keys and rings, unfaithful spouses, the odd haunted basement or demonic possession. You know: simple jobs.
By Ian Read23 days ago in Fiction
The Stranger Who Paid for My Groceries and Changed My Future
I was standing in line at the grocery store, counting coins in my palm like they might magically multiply if I believed hard enough.
By Omid khan23 days ago in Fiction
Spellslinger
The desert stretches its dry mouth out before me, dust filling my lungs as the light filters from the sky. I can see, just barely, the outlines of the next town on the horizon, and I lean forward and stroke Silas's mane. "Almost there, boy," I whisper, hoping the heat of the bodies I sense with the probing fingers of my magic isn't an illusion. This inhospitable land can do strange things to a person over time, and I've already been on the road for days.
By Raistlin Allen23 days ago in Fiction
The Thing by the Window
Richard was sitting by his friend, as he slept in the guest room. This time, he didn't want to leave his side. Whatever had happened earlier, he was going to make sure that Eddie was there with him. Surely there was some kind of logical explanation for the other Eddie he had seen. Richard believed that perhaps he was getting Eddie's crazy, but how could he rationalize that full on conversation he had with his friend?
By Emy Quinn23 days ago in Fiction
Salvage, Crime, and a Smile to Die For. Honorable Mention in Mismatch Challenge.
Working salvage is the worst job for meeting people. We don full body environsuits, usually the clunkiest, oldest ones that could make a bodybuilder look like a sack of potatoes. What it does to ordinarily built people like myself is even worse.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA23 days ago in Fiction
The Arrow in the Dark
It was the kind of night that made the rain taste like old iron and bad omens. The kind of night where even the streetlamps seemed to hunch their shoulders and mind their own business.
By Carolyn Sternes23 days ago in Fiction
Fate is Funny like that
A tall, lanky figure sped through the night, impossibly gaunt and running faster than should have been possible—an inhuman speed.
By Alicia Anspaugh23 days ago in Fiction