Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Abigail Grace. First Place in Reset Your Password Challenge.
Two in the morning. I’m in my gaming chair, controller in-hand. I want to sleep, but that ain’t happening. Haven’t managed more than a twenty minute power nap in the past six days. Cold, discarded half-filled bins of Chinese food grew stale on the dinner table in the nook near the kitchen in the small, 2-bedroom apartment.
By Bryan Buffkin3 years ago in Fiction
Hero. Second Place in Reset Your Password Challenge.
There was a time when I could have been considered a good man. I had a wife and family. I had a house with a picket fence. I had a good job and college education – the only one in my family who did. I guess you could say I had it all, the ideal life of a middle-income man. Yeah, that was me, a law-abiding upstanding citizen working for the man and just living out the proverbial American dream.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Fiction
Sally and Tom – A Love Story. Nah, Not Really.
Rui, a Costa Rican tour guide, struggled to wrestle the heavy canvas bag onto his boat. He had agreed to a private tour with a wealthy American woman who had recently lost her husband. She had requested to be transported to a small, uninhabited and rarely visited island off the coast, where she intended to bury her recently departed husband’s ashes.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Fiction
Red. Third Place in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Fantasy Fiction.
Fur on the inch of old, cold coffee is grey. The day breaking in at Bly’s window is grey, and a sleepless night hangs grey from her eyes. Do something. Her thoughts are grey. Clean. Start with the vacuum, but the bag is full. So empty it. Bins are full. Empty them. Can’t think where the fresh liners are. Shower. Water runs cold, only a glassy shave of soap left. Scum in the dish is grey. Tiles are grey, cold and grey.
By Lauren Everdell3 years ago in Fiction
Problems with myself
As suspected, the end of the world can be largely blamed on Facebook. I mean, if you really wanted to, you could blame me instead. It would be more accurate, to tell the truth, but come on. I think we can all agree Facebook makes a much better villain.
By Roderick Makim3 years ago in Fiction
Paradise: To Be or Not To Be. Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge.
Jacob looked down at his chest. His skin was firm, his muscles sinewy. There was only the faintest shadow of a mark where the plastic drain had once been. It wasn't even a scar, only a mere discolouration. He stroked his fingers over the spot, then over his arms reassuring himself that he was here, that there could be no mistake; he was, without a doubt, alive.
By Caroline Jane3 years ago in Fiction
The Thief of Reason. Second Place in The Fantasy Prologue.
There were not always dragons in the Valley. I will see them gone from that place once more. My father wept when I made my pledge, a rare thing. The tears fell from behind his mask like warm, summer rain. His attachment to me was a failing on his part, a stumble upon the Path. Yet I was gladdened to see him weep for me; a failing on mine. Later, upon my journey, I kept the memory of my father’s tears close, and felt a little less alone.
By Madoka Mori3 years ago in Fiction
Stranded
It was a gorgeous, sunny day in Southern California. Luke and his parents were about to set sail on a long cruise to Hawaii and the surrounding islands. The breeze tousled his short blonde hair in the wind as he stood on the deck, watching the other travelers gather on board.
By Holly Draper3 years ago in Fiction
This Place. Runner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge.
Atticus Black. A glassy reflection to it that made him think of beached whales, slick with oil after a tanker spill. He blew smoke down into it and watched it swirl and linger like a fog. Slowly, it faded and the features of his face reappeared in disjointed form, fragmented in the rippled liquid. Fragmented, he thought. Pulled apart. The liquid settled further and his face came into clear view within it. Broken. He pulled on his cigarette, exhaled and brought the coffee to his lips.
By Dean F. Hardy3 years ago in Fiction
I Like Rainbows and I Like Unicorns
Douglas Dugan held the door open for his 73-year-old brother Dennis as they entered the restaurant. Dennis refused to walk in, "You walk in," Dennis commanded to Doug, "People are going to think we're a couple of old fairies."
By Rick Henry Christopher 3 years ago in Fiction
