family

🍻The Drunken Tongue🥂
Okay, my turn! I’m Heidi’s currently drunk uncle Denny. And I ‘hck’, want to make a toast too. Hooray! ...Heidi, I love you, man.
By Lamar Wigginsabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
Questions To Be Answered
Cassandra had often wondered. What made her mother leave her? What was her mother like? Did her mother want her to have a better life? Or did she just not love her child? Was her blonde hair the same as her mother’s? Or did she get it from someone else? Would she recognize her mother if the other woman stood before her? Who gave her her name? Was it her mother or the people who’d found her?
By Reb Kreylingabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
Why a Real Zombie Apocalypse Would Probably Fail
They’re the living dead. Our nightmares wrapped in rotting flesh. Brain-hungry monsters that shuffle through our favorite shows and movies like they own the place.
By Areeba Umairabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
The Insulted and the Miraculous. Content Warning.
My mother and I found ourselves in one of those establishments--Italian, perhaps, or some pale imitation thereof--where the air is thick with the scent of garlic and the clatter of plates, and every glance from a stranger feels like an accusation.
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTARabout 16 hours ago in Fiction
The amazing small business
I think with everything that is going on in our world at the moment, so many businesses deserve the right to their few hours of fame. However, let’s spare a thought for the corner shops just like in the war they were there helping families try to get as near a normal life as possible.
By George’s Girl 2026 a day ago in Fiction
City of plague:A new Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 14.
In late March 2020, New York City began to drown. The number of COVID-19 patients surged with terrifying speed. Each day, more than three hundred new patients were admitted to hospitals across the city. Ambulances howled endlessly through the streets, their sirens piercing the air day and night, racing from one emergency to the next. Their cries became the soundtrack of a city under siege.
By Petera day ago in Fiction
City of plague:A new Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 13.
When the COVID-19 pandemic descended with merciless speed, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention—known to most of us simply as the CDC—finally released its first official public guidance. Citizens were instructed to wash their hands frequently, using soap and water for at least twenty seconds. Not a casual rinse, but a deliberate ritual: palms rubbing palms, fingers interlaced, nails scrubbed, the narrow spaces between fingers carefully cleansed. Foam, they emphasized, was essential. Soap bubbles could penetrate and disrupt the virus’s fragile outer layer, rendering it inactive and stripping it of its ability to infect.
By Petera day ago in Fiction
A Fucked-Up Wedding Toast - 3
Hi everyone. I’m Daniel from accounting. Mark and I worked together for six years, which is long enough to learn a lot about someone. Like how he drinks his coffee, the songs he hums when he thinks no one's listening, or the way he pushes his luxurious hair back from his eyes. And the fact that he once said he hoped to find someone “kind, patient, and steady.”
By Lana V Lynxa day ago in Fiction
Red Moon And Killer Wolves
Red Moon And Killer Wolves Under the red moon the forest changed. Trees leaned as if listening. The wolves came, their fur dark with shadow. They did’nt growl, they did not run. They walked slow, eyes fixed ahead, as though something unseen pulled them forward. In the village a single lamp still burned. A woman stepped outside, looking up at the strange sky. She never saw them reach her. One moment she stood breathing, next the ground drank her silence. The wolves kept moving, leaving nothing behind but blood in the dirt and the heavy pulse of the moon above.
By George’s Girl 2026 a day ago in Fiction
Amelia and the Secret in the Moon
Far to the North, where the sun sleeps for much of the year, lived a little girl, Amelia. She lived with her father but he was often gone hunting over the frozen artic steppes. With no other children to play with she found herself making friends with the small animals of the Tundra: a lone baby reindeer who lost its mother, a small arctic fox, and an owl. Most of the time she was alone and she spent her time taking care of the house and using her imagination to keep her company.
By Eda Marie2 days ago in Fiction
City of plague:A new Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 12.
I woke early that morning—not because I had work to go to, and not because I had anything urgent to do—but because fear had stolen the night from me.
By Peter2 days ago in Fiction
City of plague:A new Yorker’s pandemic chronicle Pt 11.
We stayed home to avoid the virus—not to avoid hunger. No matter how dangerous the world outside became, the body still demanded its daily tribute. Food was not optional. It was the quiet law of survival, older than fear, older than disease.
By Peter2 days ago in Fiction