Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Night Conceals Me
I should be sleeping. I should definitely be sleeping. But thoughts are always loudest at night time. There is no background noise, no hums, no ticks, no tv's or radios, no chirps, chimes or jingles; no noise that can cover up the internal monologue as it screams from the chasm within. But the biggest thought, coming from some crevice near the front of my brain, I summised somehow, was that the alarm I had set only two hours earlier would be ringing loudly in only another four.
By Callum Wareing-Smith4 years ago in Fiction
How I wish to fly Soundless
The darkness took hold of the walls, the ceilings, the motionless air lingering in front of my eyes. The blankets cuddled close to me, protecting me from whatever dangers lurked in the black room, whatever waits for my demise. The thought of a beast lashing out at my face any moment sent cold shivers down my spine. The feeling did not last long though, one moment my eyes were dashing across the empty space looking for any traces of a monster. Then in what felt like the blink of an eye, I was somewhere new.
By Madison B. 4 years ago in Fiction
The Fiery Canary
I saw you in my dreams…fiery canary. High in the sky with your friend at night. Seeing you was almost too good to be true. Way too good to be true. You were a true mystery, a mystery that has gone back for decades. Yet, I got to experience you in all your glory the moment I closed my eyes.
By K.J.George4 years ago in Fiction
A Cat Called Eggs
I first caught sight of Eggs, The Ginger Terror, as he flew out of my peripheral vision, an orange streak of light in hot pursuit of an enormous black cat that I had nicknamed ‘The Panther.’ The Panther had earned his moniker by merit of his largeness and his predilection for pouncing on field mice from the limbs of an old, twisted apple tree that stood in a vacant lot across the street. The tree now provided sanctuary as he shot up its trunk to a top limb. Fast on his heels, Eggs stopped only at its base, satisfied at having treed his quarry. He stood firm for a moment, staring up at The Panther, his tail held straight and high, like a puffy orange battle flag. Then he turned and trotted purposefully back towards our building. “Wow.” I said out loud, to no one. “That cat is a badass.” Mr. Beans whined from behind the screen door. He had been watching the chase scene with intense enthusiasm, as chasing things is his primary interest in life.
By Heather Walters4 years ago in Fiction
Never a Lover
I'm younger; I can feel that immediately. It's not that I have fewer aches and pains, or even that I'm thin with perky breasts. It's more like my spirit feels lighter, less burdened by time. I breathe easier; again, not in a physical sense, but in the sense that I have yet to fill my lungs with air taken in gasps of fear or gulps of rage. My lungs are still breathing out whimpers of surprise, sighs of joy, moans of pleasure.
By Mayra Martinez4 years ago in Fiction
