Top Stories

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

Gutter
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. - Oscar Wilde Pinky was late. It wasn't like her to be late. She was one of the few people it seemed these days who still relied on a watch to tell the time and not a glowing little screen. Besides, she didn't have a place to really charge said glowing little screen, and she didn't have the money to keep it turned on. Not many of us did. Every now and then, someone would get a free phone and service through some program, and it would usually end up stolen and therefore useless. So, there I was, peeping the time on the CNN building, waiting for Pinky while Boo paced and milked a cigarette. I always said she was too young to be smoking, but she didn't have much else to calm her nerves. I wanted to glance up at the clock again, and tried to stop myself. A watched pot never boils or something, right? Time seemed to not matter much on the streets while also mattering a little too much. It only took a second to lose everything. I gave in, and looked up at the clock.
By Josey Pickering3 years ago in Fiction
How the Firefly Got Its Light
Listen, my children, and gather around while I tell you how Firefly, that most mystical of all the creatures, received its light.
By Natalie Wilkinson3 years ago in Fiction
Weekender
In dry summers like this one, Manhattan is disgusting. Dog piss bakes on tarmac, human shit blooms rank in the dark corners of subway stations. The new grass in every park, pampered by spring rain, is trampled under careless feet and picnic blankets until it’s nothing more than powder. In the country, no rain means fire, or crop loss, or sometimes just the disappointment of a wilting garden. In the city, it’s the death of human civility.
By Suze Kay3 years ago in Fiction
From the Cat to the Dog
Why do we look at a terrible rain storm full of thunder and lightning, painful drops of water, and say, “It’s raining...,” well, you know what?
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
The Redeemer
"To fight evil you must understand the dark." Nalini Singh ~ "The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance observes."
By The Invisible Writer3 years ago in Fiction
The origin of flowers and colors
Once upon a time, the world was bare of beauty and color. Everything as far as the eyes could see was either black or white. People's eyes were so accustomed to the dark that it was completely commonplace to live a life of neutrality.
By Novel Allen3 years ago in Fiction
Crooked Man
The mist marches across the surface of the pond like an army of ghosts. Vaporous tendrils intertwine and disperse like footsteps falling beside each other in the perfect rhythm of purpose.
By C. Rommial Butler3 years ago in Fiction
The Trolley Problem
The machine was beautiful. Sleek silver, sharp lines, expert craftsmanship. There was the slightest hum of the machinery underneath running smoothly. It was a soothing sound.
By L Mincola3 years ago in Fiction
Torrance and the Valley of Thieves.
Lightning strikes overhead, not a cloud in sight to claim the bright effect. The gods are angry again... Torrance wanders out the barren cave, afraid for his life. His temporal nerves ache, an apprehensive sign of a calamitous future.
By Lamar Wiggins3 years ago in Fiction
Arboreal Fire
The cool crisp breeze tussles my hair. The forest blazes in arboreal fire, blood-red crimson and resplendent gold litters the canopy and the earth. Here in this sylvan bliss, I am most at peace.
By Ian Read3 years ago in Fiction
Rebirth
All I could think of was: the red hair was fitting. That and she had to be the most beautiful human I have ever seen. The faint smattering of freckles emphasized the green in her eyes, framed by long lashes an impossible shade of dark auburn. She was probably intending to appear friendly and attentive but instead her gaze felt like emerald daggers.
By L Mincola3 years ago in Fiction
The coast on the map
Chapter 2 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙰𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.
By Starlight Tucker3 years ago in Fiction