Fiction
Rising from the Ashes. AI-Generated.
In a small, weathered town where hope often felt like a distant dream, two brothers, Jaya and Rian, faced a crumbling world. Their family had fractured—parents separated, debts piling high, and relatives scattered, each battling their own struggles. The streets were unkind, offering little mercy to those already down. Jobs were scarce, and the weight of survival pressed hard on their young shoulders.
By Rofiq Samanhudi8 months ago in Pride
Snapshots of God's Image. Second Place in Pride Under Pressure Challenge. Content Warning.
This is a ghost story, but not the way you think. Snapshot 1: A Crooked Smile I wasn’t sure if I was bi until I met Elliot. He sat down next to me in Comparative Literature and that was the last nail in the coffin. I found myself staring at the shapes and lines of his face—his jaw, the way he nudged his glasses up his nose—symmetry adorkably skewed by a crooked tooth whenever he smiled. I melted. He was a revelation.
By Tyler Clark (he/they)9 months ago in Pride
Silent Colors, Loud Hearts
Every June, the city came alive with a tide of rainbow flags, laughter, and music — but to Sam, it always felt like a festival meant for someone else. Hidden beneath baggy shirts and borrowed silence, Sam walked past the painted sidewalks and the crowded streets of Pride Month with lowered eyes and a tightened heart. No matter how vibrant the world became around them, Sam remained gray on the inside — not from lack of color, but from fear of what might burst forth if they dared to open up.
By Leesh lala9 months ago in Pride
Right here, waiting
Sweat fills my palms and my legs are shaking, almost failing under me. The first people began to flow out from the gate, tired eyes scanning for exits while pulling rolling bags. Breath left my lungs, I gripped the small little box tied with purple and black bows tight, looked out for one set of eyes in particular …
By Savannah K. Wilson9 months ago in Pride
Why I’m Proud of My Roots: A First-Generation Immigrant’s Voice
Why I’m Proud of My Roots: A First-Generation Immigrant’s Voice Introduction: Who I Am and Where I Come From They say identity is a journey. For me, it has been an ocean—deep, unpredictable, and endlessly vast. I was born in a land where my name was not strange, my accent was not noticeable, and my food didn’t need translation. But that land became a memory when my family moved across continents, chasing a better life and sacrificing almost everything familiar to start from zero. I became a first-generation immigrant overnight—young, confused, and silently holding the weight of two worlds.
By Afia Sikder9 months ago in Pride
Queer Light of Truth. Honorable Mention in Pride Under Pressure Challenge.
There was a strange glow coming from your closet since last week. At first the light wasn’t too strong. When you woke up in the morning it wasn’t on. So, you shrugged it off as just a figment of your imagination. That maybe you had been seeing things, or it had been part of your dreams. Though the next night you found yourself completely awake and the light had grown stronger.
By Raphael Fontenelle9 months ago in Pride
The Doctor's Assistant. Honorable Mention in Pride Under Pressure Challenge. Content Warning.
It was hot that day, when we met. There’s nothing quite like Georgia heat in July; it’s the kind of muggy, sticky heat that just seeps through your clothes and into to your bones, until all you want to do is just lay down and die. We were out in the field, Maggie and me, picking peas and tomatoes with Daddy. The sun was hot enough to fry your brains clear out of your skull and make them drip out of your ears in a lumpy mush, but it did wonders for the crops.
By Natalie Gray9 months ago in Pride
