Short Story

Fostering the Unknown
"Mom! We're getting a thirteen-year-old girl!" Stephanie yelped through the phone. "Oh, that's wonderful, Honey! When does she come?"
By Amy Carlsen2 days ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 The Reunion
“I can’t believe they’re actually here,” he whispered to himself, feeling a surge of anticipation that mixed with the faint scent of stale gym mats and fresh rosemary from the catering staff. In that moment, the years melted away, and the teenage versions of himself, Peter and Scott, seemed to be waiting just beyond the rim of the glass.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 The Reunion
As the venue—a refurbished community hall with twinkling fairy lights draped across its vaulted ceiling—came into view, Joan felt a flutter of butterflies cascade through her stomach. She adjusted the strap of her dress once more, smoothing the fabric as if it could erase any lingering doubts. “Do you think they’ll still have the same punch bowl?” she asked, half‑joking, half‑curious. Scott glanced at his watch, noting the time, then responded, “If they do, I’ll be the first to dive in—just like we used to do at the cafeteria’s pizza day.” Their laughter, low and genuine, echoed in the car’s interior, a reminder that some parts of their teenage selves still lived beneath the veneer of adulthood.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
Cargo Beach
When most people who had been to Florida thought back on their time there, they tended to picture the same things. The luxurious, saturated feeling of hot Southern sun on their skin. The impossibly sweet tang of fresh oranges on their tongues. All of the colors, and flavors, and sights, and sounds that filled your senses when you walked through the streets of some of the cities.
By Shannon Hilson3 days ago in Fiction
I Pretended to Be Strong So My Child Wouldn’t Worry. AI-Generated.
The hardest part of being a parent is not the work. It’s the pretending. Not pretending to love your child—because that part is easy. Love comes naturally. It grows quietly in the spaces between bedtime stories, school lunches, and small conversations about homework.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
We Never Said It Out Loud, But We Were Struggling. AI-Generated.
There was a time when our apartment looked normal from the outside. The lights were on every evening. Dinner was cooked most nights. Our child laughed while watching cartoons in the living room. Sometimes we even joked with each other about small things—burnt rice, forgotten groceries, a misplaced phone charger.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
My Child Is the Reason I Keep Going. AI-Generated.
The alarm rings every morning at 5:30. For a few seconds, I lie still in the dark, staring at the ceiling. My body feels heavy, as if sleep has glued me to the bed. Outside the window, the city is quiet, caught in that brief moment before the first subway trains begin rumbling beneath the streets.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
I Smile in Public, and Collapse in Private. AI-Generated.
The first thing people notice about me is my smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes customers feel comfortable, coworkers feel relaxed, and strangers think everything in my life must be going just fine.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
Every Dollar Means a Little More Safety. AI-Generated.
At 5:30 a.m., the alarm rang like a small emergency in the darkness. I opened my eyes before the second beep. For a few seconds, I didn’t move. The room was still. The faint blue light of early morning slipped through the curtains and rested quietly on the wall.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
I Had No Way Back. AI-Generated.
The alarm rang at 5:10 a.m., the same shrill sound that had dragged me out of sleep for the past eight years. For a moment I lay still in the darkness, staring at the cracked ceiling above my bed. Outside, the city was quiet in that brief hour before the morning rush. Somewhere far away, a truck rumbled. Pipes in the building clanked softly.
By Jenny 3 days ago in Fiction
I Took a Job I Never Imagined — And It Changed Me . AI-Generated.
The job offer came on a gray afternoon that felt exactly like every other afternoon of that difficult year. I remember staring at the email on my phone while sitting on a bench outside a grocery store.
By Peter3 days ago in Fiction
The First Time I Saw Hope. AI-Generated.
The first time I saw hope, it did not arrive like a sunrise. There was no dramatic moment, no music swelling in the background, no sudden miracle.
By Peter3 days ago in Fiction