Humor

Day One: A Partridge in a Pear Tree
Stephen had never seen a contractor look so defeated by a tree. “It’s… indoor?” the man asked, standing in the hallway with a rootball the size of a corgi wrapped in burlap. The pear tree’s leaves trembled as if laughing, and a slick of damp soil tattooed the carpet in dark commas.
By Stephen Stanley4 months ago in Fiction
The Call of the Minaret
The early sun had just started to rise from behind the house tops of Medina when Bilal woke up. The air was still cool and heavy with the smell of sand and date palms. For a moment, he listened to the faint sounds of the city waking -- the distant bleating of goats, the clatter of water pots and the quiet hum of life returning after the silence of the night.
By Nusuki4 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert
And the wind sang along the dunes, and Malik took a brush against his shabby cloak, and the desert sand was like tiny sparks on his face. This was hours of walking on part of him, in pursuit of the horizon that kept on pushing away. The sun was now setting, and coloured the sky with fire and gold.
By Nusuki4 months ago in Fiction
The True Story of Byron Baker Wolf
Let me start by saying that my name is Byron Baker Wolf. It’s not Big Bad. I hate that nickname. Look at me—do I look that big or bad to you? Think about it. I’m the smallest in my whole pack and the kindest wolf in the entire forest. Big. Bad. It doesn’t even fit me.
By David E. Perry4 months ago in Fiction
The Summer that Wasn’t
Every summer, we’d talk about doing something real—not just a barbecue in the backyard or someone’s birthday in the park. I mean a trip. Something worth remembering. And this time, it was finally happening.
By The Kind Quill4 months ago in Fiction
Tommy the Tomato & Peter the Potato: A Friendship That Couldn’t Be Broken
The Oddest Pair in the Vegetable Market In a bustling little vegetable market, two very different vegetables shared a basket. Tommy the Tomato was bright red, shiny, and full of energy, while Peter the Potato was brown, plump, and calm, content to sit quietly in the corner.
By hamad khan4 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)
Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.
By Nusuki4 months ago in Fiction
The Spirit Box (6)
Chapter 6: The Snake from Heavens Gate I hadn’t even left for work yet when tragedy struck the office. As the early morning light seeped through the windows of the police station, a sudden explosion rocked the building. The night shift officers, not yet clocked out and minutes before their shift ended, scrambled to their feet and drew their weapons as a group of white-clad covered figures stormed into the station, firing shots into the air and throwing smoke bombs while humming chants.
By Alex H Mittelman 4 months ago in Fiction
Story within a Story
A story within a story, also referred to as an embedded narrative, is a literary device in which one or more characters in the main narrative encounter or present a secondary narrative embedded within it. Multiple layers of stories within stories are sometimes called nested stories. A play may have a brief play within it, such as in Shakespeare's play Hamlet; a film may show the characters watching a short film; or a novel may contain a short story within the novel. A story within a story can be used in all types of narration including poems, and songs.
By HearthMen4 months ago in Fiction
The Spirit Box (5). Content Warning.
Chapter 5: Hostages on a Train I walked into the police station and immediately heard the yelling. “Do you know where I had to sleep last night?” Emily shouted.
By Alex H Mittelman 4 months ago in Fiction
Ghosts came to Tea
Now, believe me when I tell you, that Shamus and I had no idea that we had been dead these past ten years. I mean, we have had our "All Hallow's Eve Tea Party Date" at the same time at midnight every year since we had been together.
By Novel Allen4 months ago in Fiction
The Legend of Don Conrado
It was in this manner that he started his excursion: he wandered, at first, but as the day progressed, he found more and more of a certain purpose to his stride. The reader may thus conjecture that perhaps the overall mood that Don Conrado harboured on this morning had begun to lift, in proportion to the level of exposure to the sun, and the subsequent production of calcitriol, which flowed steadily into several of his deprived bodily organs.
By Delusions of Grandeur 4 months ago in Fiction