Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Sound of One Second. AI-Generated.
Ethan never believed a single second could matter. He lived fast—too fast. Late mornings, rushed meals, constant scrolling. Life, to him, was something that happened in the background while he chased “important” things.
By Waqas Ahmadabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
The Sound of One Second. AI-Generated.
Ethan never believed a single second could matter. He lived fast—too fast. Late mornings, rushed meals, constant scrolling. Life, to him, was something that happened in the background while he chased “important” things.
By Waleed khanabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Sail On, Silver Girl. Top Story - April 2026.
I was still mad about it, all these years later. I was barely an adult, and only thinking about boys, partying, and occasionally studying. I know, quite a change, isn’t it? I swear, the universe laughs, and the Deity feeds and thrives on the irony produced by our efforts.
By Meredith Harmonabout 18 hours ago in Fiction
The Last Biscuit in the Tin
The Last Biscuit in the Tin There are rules in the therapy room, though not all of them are written down. Some are obvious. No shouting. No throwing things. No helping yourself to another person’s trauma as if it is a shared dip. No saying, “At least” to someone whose life has just fallen through the floor.
By Teena Quinn about 22 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
Later, as the night deepened and the lights dimmed to a warm amber glow, Peter found himself seated at a round table with Maya, who had once been his lab partner in chemistry. Their conversation drifted from the trivial to the profound, punctuated by the soft whoosh of their masks as they inhaled and exhaled. “Do you ever wonder how different things would have been if we hadn’t had to wear masks?” Maya asked, her voice tinged with melancholy. Peter considered the question, his gaze lingering on the faint reflection of the chandelier in his mask’s surface. “Maybe,” he replied, “but perhaps the masks forced us to listen more, to see past the smiles and focus on the words.” Their exchange was a quiet testament to how a simple piece of protective equipment could cultivate deeper empathy among old friends.
By Forest Greenabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
The gymnasium of Lincoln High had been transformed overnight into a glittering ballroom of nostalgia, its faded banners swapped for string lights and a makeshift DJ booth that hummed beneath a ceiling of suspended lanterns. Peter and Scott arrived together, each wearing a sleek, dark‑tinted protective mask that clung snugly to the contours of their faces, the little vents whispering faintly as they breathed. The masks, a relic of the recent pandemic and a newfound habit of personal safety, reflected the soft colors of the décor, turning their expressions into a subtle, futuristic masquerade. As they stepped onto the polished floor, the familiar scent of cheap gym floor wax mingled with the sweet perfume of fresh flowers, and the low murmur of old classmates—now scattered across careers and continents—began to swell into a chorus of eager greetings.
By Forest Greenabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
“I imagined you two still together, or at least that there’d be tension. Seeing you here, both of you, just… being civil, changes that picture.” He glanced at the wall where a banner read “Class of ’01 – 20 Years Later,” the bold letters emphasizing how far they’d all traveled from the cramped hallways of their high school. “If you’re both fine, then maybe the past isn’t something we need to cling to. Maybe it’s just… a chapter we can read
By Forest Greenabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
Marc stood at the entrance of the gymnasium, his face half‑concealed behind a sleek, navy‑blue N95 mask that the new city ordinance demanded for any indoor gathering. The hum of chatter was punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses, and the scent of stale pizza drifted from the catering table. He glanced around, noting the familiar rows of folding chairs that once held the senior class of ‘01, now repurposed for alumni who’d traded textbooks for mortgages. “I guess we’re all just playing dress‑up these days,” he muttered to himself, feeling the rubber strap tug at his ears. The mask made his smile appear as a thin line, but his eyes scanned the crowd for familiar faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of the people he’d left behind when he and Emily moved to another city upstate before lockdown.
By Forest Greenabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
The Eerie Brown Package
Josh had always liked Gathering Of The Sorcerers, a card game where you can either buy a deck of cards or build a deck, and you can play in groups of 4 or more people. When he found a rare deck online, he knew he had to buy it; but when he received the package, what he got wasn't what he anticipated.
By Your Favorite Maid ✝️📖🦋🌷a day ago in Fiction
The Light Between Seconds. AI-Generated.
In a quiet town where nothing ever seemed to change, there lived a boy named Ayan who felt invisible. Every day blended into the next—same streets, same faces, same silence. People passed him without noticing, as if he were just another shadow.
By Waleed khana day ago in Fiction
Putin and a Fortuneteller
Vladimir Putin called the most powerful and famous psychic and fortuneteller to his bunker. "I haven't been sleeping well lately. Wake up from nightmares where someone is hunting me but I can't see who. Can you tell me who that is?" Putin asked.
By Lana V Lynxa day ago in Fiction
