Top Stories

New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.

Wait.... Honorable Mention in Nothing But Voices Challenge. Content Warning.
"Wait..." "Wait for what?" "This was never how I wanted things to go." "Oh, I'm sure, you probably would've preferred I never started questioning things."
By Monica Carneiroabout a month ago in Fiction
4WORDS Presents Our Winter Showcase
Calling all writers, storytellers, musicians and artists! 4WORDS is holding our first ever virtual open mic and art exhibit.
By J. Delaney-Howeabout a month ago in Writers
Mariposa
A green cocoon hung from my grandfather’s bicycle. I watched, wide-eyed, as he whispered to me about what was happening in there.
By Mezmurabout a month ago in Poets
Whiskey At Dusk
Guess the whiskey was more important to you in the end, wasn’t it? It was more than the well-being of your friends; more vital than showing up to the places you promised you would and could come to; more critical of a matter than fulfilling your damn responsibilities and getting the press off your back.
By Snarky Lisaabout a month ago in Humans
Elation of Tintinnabulation
Elation of tintinnabulation sound, around the married lovers. The christening of their family was born today. The groom swoops up his bride with joyous pride.
By Rowan Finley about a month ago in Poets
Blood Orgy of the She-Devils
I used to have a T-shirt of this flick, or the exploitation poster of it. It took me several decades, the internet, and YouTube to finally see it.
By Tom Bakerabout a month ago in Horror
Unofficial Challenge: Who do you Actually want to Be?
OFFICIALLY CLOSED, STAY TUNED FOR RESULTS - FEBRUARY 15TH Hey all, Just wanted to let you know, I am pushing the closing date until February 3rd as I am on trip for school and I won't be back until the third anyway. So you all officially have 2 MORE WEEKS, best of luck and I look forward to reading all the entries when I get home 💛
By Tanya Leiabout a month ago in Writers
Silenced. Content Warning.
"I don't like this." "Shhh, it's no big deal." "But his hand…" "It's just your thigh, no big deal." "But it's right where my swimsuit ends."
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout a month ago in Fiction
“We’re Just Gym Teachers”
”Let’s bring our coffee and sit over here.” ”Yeah, no one will miss me at my table.” ”Mine either. It’s not that I mind really. It’s just the way they talk together as if I’m not even there.”
By Rulam Dayabout a month ago in Fiction
"Twin Flame Echo's". Content Warning.
In one self I feel you. I feel to much of you so. I hear you. But the echo's must remain still. The longing must be still.
By Cryptic Edwardsabout a month ago in Poets
The Light. Runner-Up in Instructions for a Feeling Challenge.
There will be a light, nothing spectacular, but one you cannot ignore, as that light- the one that only you can see, holds more than the ashes of death,
By Kera Hollowabout a month ago in Poets
Clean Energy
My energy is clean. A pure bright light emanates from inside me. It glows and warms those that allow it to permeate them from the inside.
By Jesse Leeabout a month ago in Poets
The Blue Ridge Stalker. Content Warning.
Tom had left the Ford down the way, its spark plugs finally exhausted and no mechanics for a dozen miles back through the foothills to Strossburg. No matter, he had worn his boots—almost as if he planned for this to happen. The puzzle he sought to solve emanated from the woods clinging to the slopes above; the valley behind held no mysteries.
By Stephen A. Roddewigabout a month ago in Fiction
Bone carvings.
Bone carving in Bali, Indonesia, is a rich, traditional art form using cow/buffalo bone and horns to create intricate decorative items and jewelry, originally tied to Hindu mythology and spirituality, with artisans in villages like Tampak Siring transforming animal by-products into cultural artifacts, often featuring deities, mythical creatures like Garuda, and spiritual symbols for homes, temples, and international markets. The process involves sterilizing bones (often from slaughterhouses), carving with chisels and files, and polishing, turning organic material into detailed sculptures and functional art.
By Guy lynnabout a month ago in Chapters
Once Worry-less Questions to Heavy Messages and Conversations
“Hey let me know when you get home” “I’m home.” “Are you safe?” “It’s 2 am and it’s dark out be careful of unmarked cars”
By Cadmaabout a month ago in Poets
🅼🅸🅳🅽🅸🅶🅷🆃 🆂🅽🅰🅲🅺🆂. Runner-Up in Nothing But Voices Challenge.
"It's 10 in Tuscon! We all know what that means... It's Time for Midnight Snacks with your man, Gerald Gee! Ready to spend the night together? Me too! I'm full of snacks and can't wait to regurgitate them all back into your hungry ears. Crack a brew! Pop some corn! Anything to get ready for one hell of a show where the talk maybe cheap but the words cut deep...
By Lamar Wigginsabout a month ago in Fiction
The Summer I Was Chosen by a Northern Mockingbird
During the long, suspended days of the pandemic, a wild mockingbird began visiting my driveway and chose me, again and again. What started as a strange encounter became a brief, meaningful connection that I still carry with me.
By Erica Roberts about a month ago in Petlife
Rage. Content Warning.
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Assault Rage D. A. Ratliff “Who did this?” My voice echoed through the house. All I wanted was a cup of tea, but one of the twins, running through the house like maniacs, knocked it over. My nerves tingled, and every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. Survival seemed out of reach.
By D. A. Ratliffabout a month ago in Fiction
who may write softly,. Runner-Up in Public Announcement Challenge.
today, the government issued a warning to all would-be poets and writers. here are its contents in their entirety. may all writers heed these words, as they make the difference between being read and the most terrible fate of all:
By kpabout a month ago in Poets
Five—One Grounding
Five—Locked in a perpetual battle against my failing senses and reason, I fight to survive, to get through; I am afraid of... nothingandeverythingallatonce—...—my mouth is dry, and my muscles seize up... what can I see? I can see the birdcage and birds; I can see the watercolour my beautiful wife painted many years ago and unlocked her journey into art; I can see the empty mug of tea as it sits perilously on the arm of the sofa; how many is that now? Three down, two to go; I can also see a jackdaw on the roof of our neighbour's house across the road and a bookcase of potential—Five things you can see.
By Paul Stewartabout a month ago in Poets