Fable
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 Lynxabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
A Place Called Yesterday
Some people pass away without anyone else actually noticing until something makes it impossible not to. Others pass without anyone particularly caring, even if they do notice – people who touched no one and connected with little about the world while they were around.
By Shannon Hilson2 days ago in Fiction
Midnight Bus
The bus doors opened with a long metallic sigh, even though no one had pressed the stop button. For a moment, I stood on the empty sidewalk wondering if I had imagined it. The streetlights flickered softly above me, and the road stretched into darkness like an unanswered question. I had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes, and the city around me had already fallen asleep.
By Vocal Member 2 days ago in Fiction
Bahlool and the Price of a Smell
Bahlool and the Price of a Smell Old Baghdad was a city of many sights and even more smells. On a particularly hot and dusty afternoon, a poor Arab beggar arrived in the city after a long journey across the desert. He was tired, his clothes were covered in sand, and his stomach was growling with hunger. However, his pockets were completely empty. He didn't have a single coin to buy even the smallest piece of fruit.
By Amir Husen2 days ago in Fiction
The Lower Shelf
The Lower Shelf by luccian.layth An old bookstore on a street he won't remember the name of. Ghaith pulls a book from the bottom shelf, wipes the dust with his finger without meaning to. A woman stands nearby reading upright, as though standing is part of the act.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH3 days ago in Fiction
The Clock
What Would You Do If You Knew Exactly When? THE DEVICE NOBODY ASKED FOR 🕐 The Countdown Clock appeared in every home on Earth simultaneously at midnight on January first without explanation or warning, a small digital display that materialized on the wall of every bedroom in every house and apartment and shelter and prison cell on the planet showing a number counting backward in real-time, and it took humanity approximately three hours to understand what the numbers represented because the first people whose clocks reached zero died instantly and peacefully at the exact moment their display hit 00:00:00:00, and the worldwide panic that followed as eight billion people simultaneously confronted personalized death countdowns that could not be removed, covered, or destroyed because any attempt to damage or obscure a clock resulted in it immediately reappearing on the nearest wall, was the most destabilizing event in human history, more disruptive than any war or pandemic because it gave every person on Earth the one piece of information that human psychology is least equipped to handle: the exact moment of their death 💀
By The Curious Writer4 days ago in Fiction
The Dreamholders of Tessarna
Beyond the snowy slopes of the twin Plardo-Tylno Peaks with their ruby caps, across the Sea of Fiery Tamarinds where the trees grow out of the purple reefs to spray burning spores into the wind. Between the River Endurib’s wide delta that meanders aimlessly around the Plain of Milisino licking the plain’s fields of golden grass, and the sharp obsidian blades of the Wicklaure Mountains where the Dwerrow mine for diamonds and cut obsidian blades. At the centre of the vast and ancient Empire of Tessarna that is ruled by the mighty Lord of the City, Divine Emperor of the Manifold Blades, the Emperor-God Thah-Rast who has ruled there for ten thousand generations. There sits the many-spired citadel of Chega-Toleh, where the streets are limned in purple banners of silk and the paving stones are green marble laced with threads of gold brought up from the sea by the sixteen mighty hands of titanic Thah-Rast. Here the Guild of Dweomercraefters makes its magical vessels to store up dreams in captured form to be experienced again and again by whosoever seeks them. Dreams small and large, pleasant and horrible, all manner of dreams they ensnare in the delicate glass vessels and sell to the highest bidder.
By Samuel Wright4 days ago in Fiction
Bacon. Top Story - April 2026. Content Warning.
Satan, laughing, spreads his wings. He launches into an atmosphere riddled with smoke, soot, and ash. He feels the radiation from a thousand fallen nukes. For humanity, it’s certain death. For him, it’s like bathing in a sauna. He laughs again at the thought.
By C. Rommial Butler5 days ago in Fiction
The Café
Every Customer Gets One Visit and One Question Answered THE DOOR BETWEEN WORLDS 🚪 The café appears on different streets in different cities on different nights, never in the same location twice, and the people who find it are always people who are about to face the most significant decision of their lives though they do not always know this when they walk through the door drawn by the warm light and the smell of coffee that is better than any coffee they have ever experienced and by something else, something they cannot name but that feels like recognition, like the café has been waiting specifically for them even though they have never seen it before and will never see it again because the café grants each person only one visit and during that visit they are served a meal that tastes exactly like the most meaningful meal of their life, the meal that represents their deepest happiness, and they are allowed to ask one question that will be answered truthfully by the proprietor, a woman of indeterminate age who seems to know everything about everyone who walks through her door 🌙
By The Curious Writer5 days ago in Fiction
Bahlool and the Silent Traveler
Bahlool and the Silent Traveler Baghdad was a city of wonders, but one afternoon, the mood in the Great Hall of Khalifa Haroun al-Rashid was anything but wonderful. A traveler had arrived from a distant land, bringing with him a challenge that left the city’s most famous scholars and viziers completely speechless. The man didn't speak a word; instead, he posed his questions through signs and gestures.
By Amir Husen5 days ago in Fiction
Never Go Through This Door
Never Go Through This Door The warning was carved deep into the wood, not written, not painted, but cut in hard as if someone had pressed a blade into it again and again just to make sure it stayed. The letters were uneven, rough at the edges, and darkened with age. You could tell it had been there a long time. Never go through this door. I stood there longer than I should have, not because I believed it, but because of how it had been done. No one carves something like that for no reason. It takes time, effort, and a state of mind that does not come lightly.
By George’s Girl 2026 6 days ago in Fiction
