Top Stories
Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Muriel’s Second Hand Book Emporium, Chapter 1: The Inheritance. First Place in Under Purple Clouds Challenge.
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Only those who knew where to look saw them sway and weave and whirl to the quiet music of the night. Lavender and lilac, periwinkle and magenta, swirling and twirling. To the buzz of the cicadas, the chirp of the common nighthawk, the rush of bird wings, and the water lapping and tapping against the rocky banks of the meandering creek.
By R. J. Rani3 years ago in Fiction
Ana's Home . Second Place in Under Purple Clouds Challenge.
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Then came the azure flowers dotting the golden grass, springing up lushly around the brook of palest green. A few coral birds were added to wing gracefully over the meadow.
By Sonia Heidi Unruh3 years ago in Fiction
Laced
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Yellow teeth, stubble, wrinkled reptilian face. I looked into a pair of curious eyes, eager to know the truth, piercing through the distorted sheet of glass. Heavy drops blurred the contours, contorted the figures. There weren't many of them there.
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Fiction
Praying on the weak
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It showed my lonely chambers, in the back of a cold church. It showed Alby Duncan and his daughter, Lucy, standing behind me. Alby had been a member of my flock so long that I remember Lucy being born. 19 years ago that was. It was always a delight to see them. Lucy smiled at me in the mirror. “Hello, Father Morris,” she says.
By Shane Dobbie3 years ago in Fiction
Shards
"The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own." I saw the scrap of paper at the top of the desk drawer. I squinted at the crabbed writing, so like mine, but definitely not my hand. My aunt and I were very similar in a lot of ways, and our lefty scrawls were near the top of the list. I sighed as I put it in the box with all the other papers. This box would go in the van with the others, to go through when the loss wasn't so raw.
By Meredith Harmon3 years ago in Fiction
The Big Red's Gang
Domestic and Graphic The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I should have never removed the duct tape from the cracked rearview mirror. Piercing black eyes leered at me from a scarred windblown face every bit twenty years my senior. The remnants of a blackened bullet hole oozed congealed blood from his forehead and down his face. In shock, I gasped and swerved onto the shoulder of the desert highway.
By J. S. Wade3 years ago in Fiction
