Short Story

When Hurt Changes Hands
The first time she said it, he believed her. They were at the kitchen table. Late. The overhead light was too bright, the kind that exposes flaws. She had just finished telling him that he was exhausting to be around, that his sensitivity made everything heavier than it needed to be.
By Jesse Lee7 days ago in Fiction
Part of Me
My love and I have been trapped inside of our respective houses like rats in a cage ever since the start of the pandemic. An ocean separates us, but distance is no challenge to our love. Text messaging, email- these things are so impersonal and cold. She and I are old souls both, and prefer the method of the old-fashioned letter. It takes longer, but the heart grows fonder with delayed gratification, to put a new spin on an old, tired phrase. I've certainly found it true in any case.
By Raistlin Allen7 days ago in Fiction
Unaccounted Dreams
Lydia sat on the edge of the sofa, never completely relaxed nor ready for anything either. She sipped tea politely listening to Erika's mumbling. Money on the brain. That's all she thinks of. Lydia knew they had everything needed or could ever want, but no, Erika always wanted more.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)7 days ago in Fiction
The Apartment Which Knew Part 4
No outstanding issues - or were there? 🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫 Then, hairline cracks. Thin. Barely noticeable. Stretching across the walls.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin7 days ago in Fiction
Pot Belly
The sour smell of the basement resembled a garbage disposal. Flies, sweaty from the scorching summer, circled the fruits and vegetables, munching on flour and potatoes before settling on the compost bucket. They dined there for a while, finding solace and freedom from human hands and a break from the endless circling air. After all, they were regulars, and that demanded respect.
By Moon Desert7 days ago in Fiction
I Just…
The kettle clicked off, too loud in the quiet kitchen. It was the kind of click that felt accusatory, as if it was pointing something out. You asked for this, it said. You’re supposed to do something now.
By Emilie Turner7 days ago in Fiction
Romantic Picnic For Two
The evening air hung heavy and hot, unseasonably warm for April. As the sun sank down, hovering just over the mountains in the distance, its angry glare blinded Tanya as she walked westward. Cursing herself for forgetting her sunglasses, she shifted the weight of the pack on her shoulders, letting a rivulet of sweat slip down her spine. Her feet angrily protested her choice to place fashion over function as the leather of her sandals chafed the back of her heel and sides of her toes. But Tanya didn't stop or slow. She moved forward, watching the trees in the distance grow closer with each step.
By A. J. Schoenfeld7 days ago in Fiction
Nightmare Doll
Jesse's dad Troy knocked on Uncle Jim and Aunt Marnie's front door. Uncle Jim came to the door, smiling.
By DJ Robbins7 days ago in Fiction
A Monk, The Om, A Metronome . Top Story - February 2026.
David Harlann had spent 14 years as a field medic. The horrors of mangled bodies and shot-off limbs were commonplace to him. Just another Tuesday strewn with blood.
By Gabriel Shames7 days ago in Fiction
The Box
"I'm telling you, Man: it's real, and it's worth a fortune!" Duke had that look in his eyes again. Somewhere between a kid on Christmas morning, and a crackhead looking for his next fix. The last time Ronny had seen it, he spent two months in the hospital recovering from a weird, tropical fever nobody still could tell him the name of. The time before that, he'd spent three weeks rotting in a Mexican prison. Which he vowed never to speak of again.
By Natalie Gray7 days ago in Fiction
The Shell’s Call
Kaia wandered the sun-kissed shores of Cayo Costa each and every morning, collecting calcium carbonate treasures and listening to the gentle hum of churning ocean water.
By Madison "Maddy" Newton8 days ago in Fiction
The Light She Tends
The stone steps of the Veli Rat lighthouse were worn smooth in the centre, a shallow groove carved by a century of keepers’ boots. Petra knew each one by heart—the twelfth step that chirped like a cricket, the twenty-eighth where a seam of quartz caught the sunset and glowed like a vein of gold.
By Anna Soldenhoff8 days ago in Fiction