Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Trouble on the Water. Third Place in Foggy Waters Challenge.
Cold spray crashed against the windows of the small fishing boat as she pierced the crest of a wave and then pitched down into the trough. Time and time again the unforgiving cycle had gone on battering the boat and soaking the three-man crew to the skin.
By Thea Young 4 years ago in Fiction
Nightswimming
Sometimes I go swimming alone, at night. Under the silvered scree of moonlight, I undress and pad quietly into the cool shallows. In September, the fog rolls in, an ancient cue for impending winter and the solid freeze known in the north as Ice Down. I will lean back, float serenely, eyes trained on the slivers of light that breach the overhanging pines. I imagine I am young, a girl in the throes of teenage angst, rebelling against the oaken crush of an overtired single mother. I imagine I am in love, arms twisted around the muscular shoulders of an older lover, a sensual tryst in the chill of autumn. I imagine I am strong, stronger than his pressings, his pleas, his sweet whispers and platitudes in my crimson ear.
By Aaron Steele4 years ago in Fiction
Winter’s Love
I crouched behind the clump of bushes, watching her. Her long dark hair was dotted with crystals as they tumbled from the sky. Her clear blue eyes lifted to gaze at the heavens as she soared into the air. She slid away from me, then giggled as she was propelled forward again. The chains of the swing set looked like rivers, twisted beneath her gloved fingertips. Her pink hat was daintily perched upon her crown, a sharp contrast to the deep, rich chocolate of her hair, trailing out behind her with the wind as she swung forward. Her laugh broke the winter silence as it rang out, chimes in the wind. I closed my eyes and savored the richness of it. Recollection of the sound sparked longing deep within my chest, a pain that outweighed the cold upon my bare feet or the bitter wind upon my back. I longed to go to her, to embrace her once more. She would not recognize me now, I thought angrily. I returned my gaze to the summer angel immersed in winter as she innocently played, oblivious to my surveillance. She swung high in the air now, soaring above the ground; her eyes glittered mischievously as she shifted her grip on the chains. All at once, she let go and flew, a wingless bird soaring over the white powder. She crash landed into a drift of snow that exploded upon impact, into cold, downy crystals. She grinned and a giggle burst out of her. Her bliss was overwhelming, washing off of her in waves of joy. So contagious it was that I involuntarily let out a soft barking laugh.
By Ari Strella4 years ago in Fiction
Daughter.
The girl sighed as she stared defeatedly at the unremarkable ceiling over head. Gentle rays of light danced against the light blue walls of the room. The sun rose slowly in the sky, the beautiful mixes of oranges and yellows and pinks, replacing the black and navy of the night before. The girl ran a hand through her red hair. Another sleepless night had come and gone. Her chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm as she contemplated doing it today.
By Cianna Williams4 years ago in Fiction
Careful What Name You Choose
Shortly after moving into our new neighborhood, my wife found him on Interstate 12 in Louisiana. Unannounced, she delivered him to me, which was clearly against the rules. But our home is like the Roach Motel--if anything checks in, they never check out. The smell was painful, and after addressing the filth, tar, and matted hair, he was still unrecognizable as any particular breed.
By Gerard DiLeo4 years ago in Fiction
A Story About A Forest
Once upon a time there was a gorgeous, lush forest that teemed with life and vibrance. The forest was protected by highly official documents, laws and legislation, unharm-able, loved and nurtured by all who lived by it. Baby squirrels played and chased each other up and down majestic trunks from dawn to dusk. Nestled in great roots were settlements of mushroom villages and fat bugs of all shapes, sizes and colours wove in between the little umbrellas. Food was abundant, air was clean and sweet and seldom was there a crash that told of a fallen giant. When there was, new saplings rose up tall, growing strong upon the wisdom of the old bark beneath their roots.
By Angie Allanby4 years ago in Fiction
Changeling Child
The night that Mary Bennet was born had been a clear, cold one. Stars illuminated the cloudless sky, as if watching over some fortuitous event. The village of Longbourn, and it's neighboring town of Meryton, were as quiet as they ever could be. Indeed, it was almost peaceful, if not for the happenings at Longbourn.
By Natasja Rose5 years ago in Fiction
Extra Credit
Darlene rested her head against the cool and solid refrigerator, her eyes closed as she counted out the longest sixty-three seconds of every day. Those sixty-three seconds it took for the coffee machine to create her personal cup of mommy wake up juice to start the day.
By Judey Kalchik 4 years ago in Fiction
The Unsaid Good-Bye. First Place in SFS 8: Pear Tree Challenge.
Nic sat on the toilet in her great-grandmother’s house, staring at the shower wall mural that had creeped her out as a child, feeling very creeped out. She hated using the bathroom here, because there was nothing to do but sit and look at those creepy, sculpted people with their white, almond-shaped eyes and oversized hands, positioned around the trunk of a vast Yggdrasil of a pear tree, branches spread wide above the length of the tub and oval leaves ending in sharp barbs like wasp stingers drooped in silent menace. If a bathroom could be threatening, her great-grandmother had cornered the market.
By R. E. Dyer4 years ago in Fiction
