Top Stories
New stories you’ll love, handpicked for you by our team and updated daily.
A Pachelbel Canon Night
When I was writing my first book, the world around me was asleep, and I was awake in the wonder of the light. Every guidance was in the nuance of the living form. I had a house then and not much else, but I had a room for which to grow and live, and everything else was a beam of light to see by. I lived in prayer, in meditation, and there was no radical transformation. It was more of a sifting and taking it all in.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle3 months ago in Humans
Book Review: "Human Monsters: A Horror Anthology" by Various Authors
Yes, it's horror again. I'm feeling kind of down and whenever I'm down I read horror because it makes me feel better. Have you heard about that study that states people who are in depression should watch and read horror in order to make themselves feel better? Yeah, I checked it out some time ago - you should too. Human Monsters is exactly what you think it is, it is about monsters who are human - those who lurk in the normal world, not in the shadows, not in the darkness - they stand right in front of us. They are us. Let's go through my favourite stories in the anthology...
By Annie Kapur3 months ago in Geeks
Looking back: 2025 was a beast
It's difficult to know how to start this. I've suggested that it's been a tough one from my title and in many ways, it has; however, there is an argument that it's not been that extraordinary at all, merely this wonderful thing we call "life" with all its climaxes and pitfalls.
By Rachel Deeming3 months ago in Motivation
Beyond Words. Runner-up in Travel Snaps Challenge.
It was about halfway into my seven-week study abroad in rural Kenya that I realized I had not journaled a single time throughout the experience thus far. But even as I sat down that very evening, determined to commit some vital memories and reflections to my journal, I knew I wouldn't make much headway; there was a part of me that was opposed to trying to record this particular journey there. I wanted it to remain separate, unique, untouched by my 'ordinary' life back in upstate New York. In the end, I came away with not even one whole pageful of words.
By Gabriel Huizenga2 years ago in Wander
The Countdown. Winner in Leave the Light On Challenge.
A deafening cheer erupts from the crowd outside Danny’s hotel window in New York City’s Time Square. The sky darkens as a giant, electric-blue ball begins its final descent. Danny’s heart races, his nausea amplified by the rising tide of outside voices counting down in perfect sync. “Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven-”
By Kenny Penn2 years ago in Fiction
Mind Waves of Power. Runner-Up in If Walls Could Talk.
If walls could talk, then you'd be in a lot of trouble. The whole lot of you. But especially you. I am your wall, and I've been holding your secrets. Closets don't hold skeletons like I do. I've got all the brittle bone dust of each and everyone of your deceits, your selfish exploits; all the schemes right from the control center of your life. Every last one of them.
By Kali Mailhot3 years ago in Fiction
The Great Sock Migration!. Runner-Up in Absurdist Awakening Challenge.
He realized something was off when he felt an unusual coldness in his left foot while eating breakfast. His sock had somehow crept halfway down his foot, bunching defiantly at his arch as he looked down. When he bent down to hack it up, the sock literally sighed.
By Neli Ivanovaabout a year ago in Humor
My Soul's Destiny. Finalist in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Romance Fiction.
Thou wert my Destiny;—thy song, thy fame, The wild enchantments clustering round thy name, Were my soul’s heritage, its royal dower; Its glory and its kingdom and its power! - Sarah Helen Whitman
By Jennifer Christiansen3 years ago in Fiction
The Jilted Bride!. Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
🕊️ The Courtship of Morylda Morylda met him - Chalen - in the greenhouse of her aunt’s estate, where she’d gone to escape the suffocating expectations of her lineage. He was not a gardener, though he wore the green apron like one. He was a composer, moonlighting among orchids to pay for studio time. His hands smelled of soil and sandalwood, and when he spoke, his voice had the cadence of an unsung lullaby.
By Novel Allen4 months ago in Fiction
