Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

To Company Men & Coporate Mythologies
The most important thing you can own is a strong sense of smell. Melody knew the exact tensile strength of the glass that separated her from the street. She had tested it - and been tested by it. Over time, she had learned the exact depths of the moral bankruptcy of the men who stood behind it. She crossed Security with her key/ID card - and scaled the high-rise in minutes. She heard the outspoken wind as the weight and force of the elevator car pushed the wind to the ground floor. The 41st floor was a wall of tempered glass encased in steel. The floor stunk of a thin, quiet desperation and the very same bankruptcy from the elevator bank to her cubicle - but, on the surface, she only smelled the freshly shampooed carpet.
By James L. Royer4 days ago in Fiction
A Garden of Broken Clocks
The day began like any other. From the window of his third-floor apartment, Martin watched the street below: a quiet line of parked cars, a lone delivery cyclist weaving through the early morning fog, and the familiar hum of the city awakening. The smell of bread from the bakery across the road mixed with the faint, lingering smoke of a neighbor’s wood stove. Martin sipped his coffee slowly, watching the steam curl into the air, a small, temporary comfort before the hours unfolded.
By Algieba4 days ago in Fiction
Human Resources
As Director of Human Resources for the entire facility, Helen had overseen more retirement parties than she could count. She was familiar enough with protocol that she no longer required the checklist in the appendix of the manager’s handbook, but used it anyway, in strict adherence to company policy. During her morning workout, she’d gone through the list in her head a hundred times, but seeing it printed out in black and white always brought a tangibility to the whole affair. She’d gone down to the kitchen herself to pick up the cake, rendering the cafeteria silent as she rolled the confection, red-velvet encased in featureless white fondant, as well as the requisite cutlery on a cart past ranks of seated workers on her way upstairs to the Accounts Receiving Department. Everyone knew what it meant.
By J. Otis Haas4 days ago in Fiction
Taxed to Death
Biggest scam there is, being taxed for money you make, then taxed again for things you buy, then taxed again for things you were already taxed for. This is government overreach. Imagine all the people with hidden assets, how will you ensure they pay their due taxes?
By Sid Aaron Hirji4 days ago in Fiction
The Bell That Doesn’t Ring
No one checked the clock in Marrow Street anymore. There was one, of course—high on the brick tower at the end of the road, its white face cracked like dry porcelain, its black hands frozen at 3:17. It had stopped years ago, though no one remembered when. Still, people looked at it sometimes, out of habit, like glancing at a sky that no longer held weather.
By Algieba4 days ago in Fiction
The Grace of the Unspoken
The morning began, as it always did, with the rhythmic scraping of the kettle against the iron stove. Elias didn't speak to the water as it began to boil, nor did he hum to the chill that had settled into the kitchen corners over the night. He simply moved.
By sasa4 days ago in Fiction
The Walk
You can do this. You can totally do this. You made it this far. Her own steps, echoing on the encased pebbles that made up the sidewalk, were making her uneasy. Lisa clutched her hands around the stroller's handle. Her knuckles flashed white.
By Sasha Desideri4 days ago in Fiction
The Call That Came Before It Happened
Daniel never believed in things he couldn’t explain. Ghosts, premonitions, “signs from the universe” all of it sounded like excuses people used when life didn’t make sense.
By Farooq Hashmi4 days ago in Fiction
Trust, Undone
I trusted her with everything—passwords, plans, parts of myself I hid from everyone else. She learned it all, then used it when leaving paid better than loving. I didn’t chase. I sat, realizing betrayal doesn’t start with them—it starts the moment you hand someone knife.
By Aarsh Malik4 days ago in Fiction
The Last Letter in the Attic
I hadn’t been back to my grandmother’s house in years. Not since the funeral. The place sat at the edge of town, quiet and stubborn against time, like it refused to admit she was gone. The garden had grown wild, ivy swallowing the porch railing, and the front door groaned like it recognized me when I pushed it open.
By Mariana Farias4 days ago in Fiction
She Blocked Him Everywhere… Except in His Dreams
Her profile disappeared from his screen. Their chats—years of late-night conversations, inside jokes, voice notes, and shared secrets—vanished as if they had never existed. Even the little heart emojis they exchanged seemed erased from memory. He stared at his phone that night, willing it to be a mistake. It wasn’t.
By Tawseef Aziz4 days ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Secret
The town of Hollow Creek was small, the kind of place where everyone knew your name and your business, sometimes before you even did. Tucked between a crooked row of brick buildings on Main Street, there was a shop that most people walked past without a second glance. Its sign was faded, the paint peeling like old memories: “Elliot’s Timepieces”. Inside, the air smelled of polished wood, brass, and a hint of something unplaceable—like nostalgia in liquid form.
By Mariana Farias4 days ago in Fiction