Humor
The Next Morning
Sunlight spilled across my face, waking me. I rose slowly, a bit slower than usual, probably one or two martinis too many. I’m glad I pulled my robe around my body: I heard voices coming from my bath as I tread through the arbor joining it to my chamber. Sure enough, there my brother was, having a hot tub party in my bath. He took one look at my face and quickly escorted everyone somewhere else.
By Harper Lewis10 days ago in Fiction
The Honk That Nobody Heard
The sky began humming on a Tuesday. Not loudly. Not urgently. Just a soft, mechanical vibration that settled over the town like background music no one had selected. It buzzed faintly in teeth and window glass. You could feel it in your ribs if you stood still.
By The Kind Quill10 days ago in Fiction
Hey, Doll
"Hey Doll, open your eyes.” Barnaby’s house was not new to Marion, but it was still a nice gesture that he would carry her over the threshold. She could see it now, for the first time, as their home. He set her gently down on the floor and, locked in a tight embrace, they kissed. Before long they had moved to the bedroom to consummate the marriage.
By Amos Glade11 days ago in Fiction
Valentine's Day Sucks
Valentine’s Day sucks. Boyd sighed as he saw Charlie sidle up to the bar and order a beer. A few feet away sat his girlfriend. This was a problem. His friend Charlie ran a standard Valentino scam on vampires: He would seduce them and then kill them. He was good at it. However, he had a healthy libido, so occasionally he would fall for a target. This could cause complications.
By Jamais Jochim13 days ago in Fiction
The Last Train to Midnight
Arman had never liked train stations after dark. There was something unsettling about the way the lights flickered above empty benches and how announcements echoed through halls that held no one. Yet on that cold November evening, he found himself standing alone on Platform 7, staring at the digital board that displayed a single line: Last Train to Midnight — Delayed. He checked his watch. It was already 11:43 PM. The wind pushed cold air through the open tracks, carrying the faint metallic smell of rust and rain. He told himself he was overthinking. It was just another late train. Nothing more.
By Sudais Zakwan15 days ago in Fiction
The Doll in the Window
When Zara’s family moved into the old Victorian house on Elm Street, she didn’t notice the doll at first. It sat in the dusty attic window, a porcelain figure with glassy eyes, a cracked smile, and a faded pink dress. Her younger brother had insisted it was creepy, but Zara thought little of it. Dolls were just dolls, after all. That was before she began noticing subtle, unnerving changes.
By Sudais Zakwan16 days ago in Fiction
