Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Night I Opened My Door — And Everything Changed
The knock came at 11:43 p.m. I remember the time because I had just checked my phone, hoping for a message that was never going to arrive. The apartment was quiet in that heavy way only lonely spaces can be. The refrigerator hummed. The clock ticked. My tea had gone cold beside me — a habit lately.
By imtiazalam4 days ago in Fiction
Virtual Ghost
I noticed her on my third night playing. At first, I thought she was just another NPC. The game—Eidolon Realm—was known for its realism. The characters felt alive, reacting to your choices with unsettling accuracy. But this one… this one was different.
By Mariana Farias5 days ago in Fiction
THE TWELFTH PLATE
The dinner bell at Harrow House rang at six o'clock sharp. Not five-fifty-nine. Not six-oh-one. Six. I learned this on my third evening, when I arrived at five-forty-five, eager to make a good impression. The dining room was empty except for Mrs. Blackwood, who stood at the head of the long oak table, arranging silverware with the precision of a surgeon.
By Edward Smith5 days ago in Fiction
The Porcelain Protocol
The morning toast was slightly burnt, but Elias didn’t mention it. He couldn’t. To complain about the toast would require looking at the person who made it, and looking at Clara this morning was an exercise in extreme discipline.
By Edward Smith5 days ago in Fiction
When the Streetlights Come On
Nobody had to tell us to be home before the streetlights came on. We just were. Not because we were good. Not because we listened. Kids don’t work like that. We rode our bikes too far. Let the basketball roll into the street. Climbed fences we weren’t supposed to touch. Skinned our knees. Lied about where we’d been. Came home sweaty, filthy, and half wild.
By Tifani Power 5 days ago in Fiction
THIRTEEN
The first Tuesday of every month, we gathered in the community room of the Ashford Apartments with dishes covered in foil and Tupperware lids that didn't quite seal. Someone brought macaroni. Someone brought green beans. Someone, always, brought pie.
By Edward Smith5 days ago in Fiction
The Architecture of the Void
In the city of Oakhaven, the most important things are the ones we agree not to see. Julian was a master of the peripheral glance. It was a skill honed over forty years, a fine-tuning of the soul that allowed him to navigate the world without ever truly looking at it.
By Edward Smith5 days ago in Fiction
The Lesson
I had just deplaned in Austin after a torturous flight from Sacramento. The weather had been bad when we lifted off and didn’t seem to get much better throughout the flight, with an unexpected delay in Vegas that lasted more than three hours. I was already wound up tight for this trip, a work gig that was going to involve either me or someone else losing their job, so the tension of the delays didn’t help me much. Turbulence makes me nervous, and I could definitely feel my shoulders and my gut paying the price. Needless to say, when the plane finally landed, I was more than ready to disembark.
By David Muñoz5 days ago in Fiction
