Top Stories

New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.

The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooper30 days ago in Fiction
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶about a month ago in Petlife
Broken Yesterdays
In these battered halls are sung the songs of broken yesterdays Visions of sweeter tomorrows knelt blithely in the pews Un-bittered by want and regret
By Ian Readabout a month ago in Poets
Vocal Bonus Leaderboard: 01/14/2026
Welcome to our weekly Leaderboard update! We're delighted to highlight Vocal's most popular stories. Join us as we recognize this week's standout contributors and their remarkable achievements.
By Vocal Team30 days ago in Resources
he wanted me. Content Warning.
he wanted me to need him instead of being real and confident. he wanted me to question everything instead of be deliberate and make my dreams come true.
By ⸘jason alan‽about a month ago in Poets
Word of the Day: 静穏
Right now I am listening to a weird video with 3 orange cats and the numbers 333 on the screen. They are sort of neon and glowing.
By Kayla McIntoshabout a month ago in Confessions
Self Reliance. Content Warning.
I crawled across the sanguine soaked battlefield of life born legless languishing below the line of sight to all except the
By K.B. Silver about a month ago in Poets
Like Rupi Like Pizza
I tried both. Only one of them gives me indigestion. “Hi, my name is Jess, and I don't hate Rupi Kaur's poetry. I mean, I don't like it...”
By Avocado Nunzella BSc (Psych) -- M.A.P about a month ago in BookClub
Wild Card Weekend Recap: What Happens Now?
I think I figured out why I love Wild Card Weekend so much. It's because it's the first playoff anything of the calendar year. The NFL season starts in the fall, and once upon a time, the champion was crowned either on or slightly before New Year's. The evolution of the NFL schedule has resulted in the playoffs starting just into the New Year, and currently, the final week of the season falls on the first weekend of the New Year, with Wild Card Weekend coming a week after that. So yes, chronologically, the NFL's Wild Card Weekend serves as the first playoff anything of the calendar year.
By Clyde E. Dawkinsabout a month ago in Unbalanced
Flaying Façades
Prose Poetry Unburdening a menagerie of ghosts exorcised my fragile, fumbling heart. I had told you of jet-black thoughts through intimate chronicles, and discombobulated perceptions ripped beyond the basal of my breasts.
By Chantal Christie Weissabout a month ago in Poets
Renzo & Piper's New Year's Eve Party... 🪩🥳🕺🏾💃🏾
Hi All! It's Doll Mommy here! How was your New Year's Eve? Did you break out your old Beastie Boys records and get down with the Soul Train get down on the 31st? 🕺🏾💃🏾Paul Revere still slaps! 😁🫶🏾
By Tiffany Gordonabout a month ago in Fiction
Why Working Harder Doesn't Feel Safer
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from doing everything you’re supposed to do and still feeling like you could lose everything at any moment.
By Danielle Katsourosabout a month ago in Humans
I Am Found
I drop to my knees on the side of the road Of this long forgotten place I gather the filthy, Long abandoned bundle this fragment of faith
By Justin Blackabout a month ago in Poets
To Be a Slob
So, you've decided to give up being a neat freak? Wise choice. There are many reasons why this path is advantageous. Here are a few:
By Julie Lacksonenabout a month ago in Fiction
Lullaby
Lying on the floor, CDs are spread out around me. Some are in their cases, while others are bare. My music player softly pumps out melodies into the air.
By Amethyst Champagneabout a month ago in Poets
I Dated My Boss, It Didn't End Well
I first met Jeff when I walked into the engraving store in the mall. My initial thought was that he was super cute. Then I remembered that I needed to be asking for a job application, not interviewing guys to be my boyfriend.
By Edward Andersonabout a month ago in Pride
Hibernation
I am the tree laid bare by winter, all sandpaper bark and the hollowness of a thing almost-dead, holding my breath in the fractured light of the perpetual confessional,
By Chloë J.about a month ago in Poets
For the Next Girl. Winner in Instructions Included Challenge.
Hey, Next Girl, I’m Holly. You and I will probably never meet, but for some reason life has brought you here – to Walter’s broom closet. I know when I started working here, I could’ve done with some instructions... anything at all.
By Cristal S.about a month ago in Fiction
The Rejection Letter
I worked on a chapbook proposal over several months: synopsis, artist’s vision, budget, digital manuscript, cover letter, publishing history, chapbook prototype, details regarding paper, printing, binding.
By Marie Wilsonabout a month ago in Writers
I Do Remember
“Hi, Pop. How are you feeling today?” “I’m feeling fine, but who are you?” “I’m Jacob, your son. I was here visiting you yesterday, remember?”
By Mark Gagnonabout a month ago in Fiction