Mystery
The Missing Ingredient. AI-Generated.
In every great story of success—whether in business, art, leadership, or personal growth—there is always something people admire: talent, intelligence, funding, connections, strategy, or timing. We celebrate the visible elements. We analyze the measurable factors. We replicate the obvious steps. Yet, despite following proven formulas, many individuals and organizations still fall short of their goals.
By Ayesha Lashari2 months ago in Fiction
The Missing Ingredient. Winner in Rituals of Affection Challenge. Top Story - February 2026.
The first time I saw her, she was wearing a velvety, red ribbon in her hair. She carried a small leather backpack everywhere. She searched the forest by turning stones, checking beneath shrubs, listening to the wind as if it might carry an answer.
By Imola Tóth2 months ago in Fiction
Eyes on the Ground
There was a woman that walked through town every Saturday morning. While she walked the rest of the town, stayed indoors. No one dared to open their shutters. Or peep through the peephole of their doors. If you were already outdoors while she was on her walk, you were encouraged to stare at the ground. Keep your eyes on the ground. Nowhere else but the ground.
By Raphael Fontenelle2 months ago in Fiction
Choose Your Own Adventure: St Helena Station Part 2
******* Author’s Note****** This is part two of my ongoing choose your own adventure style story St Helena Station. If you missed the first part, the link is below. Sadly you missed out on part one’s voting period but feel free to read and drop a comment/catch up on the story! Thank you for reading…… good luck.
By Sandor Szabo2 months ago in Fiction
The night everything changed. Content Warning.
As soon as I saw it, I knew what needed to be done. I left without a second thought. I ran straight into the pouring rain and was soaked within seconds. I shivered and pulled my cloak tighter, but the buttons were broken and I couldn’t close it properly. One was missing, and the rest hung from loose threads. A cold draft slipped through, the wind flowing freely.
By Minou J. Linde2 months ago in Fiction
Yellow Lights, Lucky Breaks & Borders
Crossing the Alameda border, I reached up and knocked twice on the car ceiling with my curled index and middle fingers. “Why do you do that?” Cynthia twirled a section of her long, coppery tresses; it was a fidget that I had long grown to love. She was perfect—literally everything that I had asked for. A redhead who looked like she had it all together and was a little crazy in the best way: great with fixing cars, loved dogs, and had a huge heart. She was amazing, and once again I looked at her and felt like the luckiest man alive.
By Alicia Anspaugh2 months ago in Fiction







