Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

Light from Memory. AI-Generated.
In the year 2149, the sun was no longer enough to power the world. Cities had expanded endlessly, covering deserts, mountains, and coastlines with metal and glass. Humanity’s hunger for energy had grown far beyond what nature could provide. Factories, transport systems, and enormous digital networks required power every second. Scientists searched desperately for a new source of energy that could sustain civilization.
By stories2 days ago in Fiction
Thread Count
Everyone remembers the thread. They remember how the princess pressed it into Theseus’s hand, how the hero unwound it behind him like a promise while he walked into the dark. They remember the monster waiting somewhere in the center, hooves echoing in the corridors, breath thick with heat.
By Alain SUPPINI2 days ago in Fiction
Not Very Convincing
Shane reaches, fingers wrapping around the handle of his coffee mug, all while staring at the title of the email. URGENT – Fiscal Year Deposits Report for… The subject leaks into the unknown; it’s so long.
By Jean-François Lamothe2 days ago in Fiction
Dad Is Still Typing
March 11 is the day Alexander Graham Bell placed the first successful telephone call to a friend, Thomas Watson. The phone has since become a feature of our pockets, and a constant Dinner Table battle with the kids.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin2 days ago in Fiction
Why?
The collar of my stark white shirt was soaked to the bone, just like the back of my neck. Like wet paper against my neck. I could blame the August heat or the diner's broken air conditioning. I was tracing the peeling part of the Formica table with my fingers, pressing my thumb into the deep grooves. Hard enough to keep from breaking.
By Manuel C.2 days ago in Fiction
The Easter Hat
“Is your mother going to come with your Easter hat?” his kindergarten teacher asked him, almost accusingly. Joshua shrugged his shoulders. He put his right forefinger up to his mouth and uttered a single cough. He scratched his head and slumped his shoulders, walking to a folding table with premade hats.
By Paul Aaron Domenick2 days ago in Fiction
THE ARCHITECT OF MY OWN RUIN: THE CAGE I BUILT FOR MYSELF
I look at the heavy iron door of my life, and the most devastating realization hits me: there is no lock on the outside. There is no cruel warden keeping me in the dark. I am the prisoner, but God help me, I am also the guard.
By Wellova 2 days ago in Fiction
The Quiet Girl in the Office
Laughter spilled through the slightly open lunchroom door, bright and sharp like glass breaking in the quiet hallway. Cindy paused outside the doorway.
By Gaurav Gupta2 days ago in Fiction
Deep Blue
When I was eleven, my family went on vacation to Hawaii. We took a boat out to a secluded reef in the shade of a lush cove, where the water was a deep blue and you couldn't see the bottom. Peering out through their comically-large snorkelling goggles, my parents beckoned for me to join them in the water, but I was afraid to jump in.
By TYC2 days ago in Fiction
Contillian Rubustus the III
Contillian counted the seconds before the beast was to be released. His bare shoulders were flexed. Already, his sweat drenched his body in the heat of the baking sun. He had wrestled lions and bears dozens of times. Whatever type of beast was behind the gate, it couldn’t be worse than the animals that he’d strangled to death before. The spear in his hand was sharp.
By Rowan Finley 2 days ago in Fiction
The Hunt for Dahlia
Paws the size of bucklers slapped down one after another through the mud that made up the eastern pass that ran out through the Agathok. The locals referred to it as Mercas Way, no doubt because of the vast amount of trade caravans and merchants that frequented it in the dry months. The beast gave a low moan and tossed its head back and forth several times to shake the rain and dirt from its face, picking up its pace slightly as it grew giddy at the prospect of a clean hide. The deserts had been warm the last few years allowing the beast to lounge with its master out in the sun, but the packing of sand into everything that was not sealed had been an uncomfortable compromise.
By Brier2 days ago in Fiction
The Edge of Something
She kissed me. She kissed me, and I just stood there. I didn't understand what was happening until it was already over. Did I lean in? I don't know. She did — I know that much — because I would never have been the one to close the distance. I had only been thinking that I was having a nice time with a girl I met in class. A nice time. That's all.
By Eddamar González2 days ago in Fiction