Top Stories

Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

Clip Clop
In the old days, it was different. Whether you had a horse or not, and whether you liked them or not... If you heard clip-clop on the street, some inner child prompted you to go to the window. You'd look out with some small satisfaction.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
All of the Colors
The body that lay outside was blue. The inside of the cabin was blue as well. Not literally blue, of course. Standard log cabin, brown, with a lit fireplace. Half empty bottle on a wooden table. But the room felt blue.
By Dakota Smothers2 years ago in Fiction
Exhalation
Dying, for me, was a beautiful experience. I know that sounds crazy, blasphemous even, to describe such a tragic thing, a viscerally sad thing, in such a dissonant way. You might wonder if I was depressed. And truly, I wasn’t. In the end, despite everything, I was stupidly happy. Still, if I was being completely and truly honest, dying, the actual act of it, the process of letting go… that part. That part was bliss.
By L Mincola2 years ago in Fiction
Eternal Walk
I pull tight on the straps of my snowshoes and stomp my feet upon the fresh fallen snow. With spear in hand, I begin my journey, and for the first time in a long while, I am at peace.
By JBaz2 years ago in Fiction
Afterglow
The evening sun broke through the late summer clouds, slowly rousing me, but I did not open my eyes. For a moment longer. I wanted to linger in the happy fantasy that I would not be alone. That for once, she would still be there when I woke.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
Silver Mornings
Wings formed a leathery tent above her head. The combined heat of three massive bodies had melted the snow and the seat of her britches was wet. Rowyn sighed and sullenly pushed her way out from her cove of dragon breath. The world was washed anew in white. The evergreens wore a fresh dress that drifted in fluffy mounds to the ground, rich as velvet and just as soft. The morning light could not pierce the retreating storm clouds, instead diffusing into a gentle silver; so gentle that no shadows could find purchase, slipping and scattering into the gray under the trees.
By M. A. Mehan 2 years ago in Fiction
The Grey Snow
She told me, just before passing away : ''Only once you'll see the grey snow dancing just for you, will you know I am truly gone.''
By YonathanJ2 years ago in Fiction
The Misplaced Knife. Content Warning.
There I was, being picked up by the FBI and then placed in a zip-lock bag labeled “evidence.” The Poetic Killer, a name given by the media, misplaced me. I’m normally tucked into a boot or placed in a backpack after the Poetic Killer commits the gruesome crime. I don’t enjoy it, but what control do I have?
By Marysol Ramos2 years ago in Fiction
North, East, South, West
Oh, the bitter irony. I’m a compass. I’ll tell you which direction you need to go in, thanks to the handy-dandy magnetic fields of this massive rock we call earth, but I need an owner in order to do that.
By Daniel J. Heck2 years ago in Fiction
Test of Faith
Marty received a phone call yesterday that rocked his world. He found out he might have pancreatic cancer after a visit with his doctor. He had to take a pay cut at his job amidst the rocky economy and as if that was not bad enough, he also broke up with his girlfriend after being together for the past two years and even being engaged. He woke up this morning with a lot on his mind.
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
Boundless
I peer through the tiny raining marshmallows, pure white pillows twisting in a flurry before they float to rest upon the bird's feathers.
By Eloise Robertson 2 years ago in Fiction
Footprints
This story was created for the “Snow Microfiction Challenge” in January 2024. Submissions were required to be exactly 250 words and take place in a snowy setting.
By BK2 years ago in Fiction