Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Window
The glow was the first thing everyone checked in the morning—not the sun, which was unreliable and messy, but the steady, cool blue of the glass. Every home was a gallery of these illuminated rectangles, windows that offered a view far more curated and pleasing, than normal human optics could receive from the unfiltered world that hid behind everyone's' walls.
By Meko James 2 days ago in Fiction
The Unspoken Rule. Content Warning.
She’s six years old in a hotel room giving way to darkness on the way down to Florida. They’re fighting again, but this is common enough now. She kneels in front of the small screen and presses the button on the TV itself. The remote doesn’t work.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA2 days ago in Fiction
I'm So Sorry...
I've been told my whole life that sharing is a virtue, so I guess that makes me a saint today. Look, I'm tired of the noise. I'm tired of the weight behind my eyes and that buzzing in my ears that sounds like a thousand bees trying to start a band in my head. They say a debt is only a burden if you're the one holding the bill... and I feel like I've held it long enough.
By Sara Wilson2 days ago in Fiction
Marked For Death
Charra walked around town, noting each establishment's unique aesthetic: worn-out shops, cobblestone streets, and a small-town feel. Lumilla brimmed with little shops, all carrying the old-time feel from when gods walked among them so long ago. The smell of the many shops filled the air, making everyone feel at home. As the many colors faded, it was still beautiful in its own way. She felt at home here, heading to her favorite shop for candied delights. The rustic charm fit the worn shop, its welcoming smell inviting to those who knew it. Each worn shelf held the candy for some time. Yet it held its charm throughout the many years it had delighted the population.
By Sarah Danaher2 days ago in Fiction
Swan. Top Story - April 2026.
“During the Metal Age, humans took photographs of everything beautiful, which was everything, yet machines did not even wear shoes. The Fauxna thought of a better way. They colored all of the light rose, for a corrupted source cannot be verified.” - Origin Parable, 011
By Nicky Frankly2 days ago in Fiction
The Day Pass
The morning did not begin—it dragged itself into existence. A dull, splitting ache pulsed behind his eyes, as if the night had left something unfinished inside his skull. The room smelled faintly of cheap rum and stale air. He lay there for a moment, not thinking, not moving—just existing in the heavy silence that follows excess.
By Honey Batth2 days ago in Fiction
