Short Story

You Have Been Judged
I used to daydream about the end of the world. I longed for it. I almost prayed for it. I would sit at my desk on a slow day, stare out the window and think ‘what would I do if the world ended - right now’. Anything other than another day of insignificant purpose. Because the end of the world would mean the end of office hours, company emails and expensive coffees. I didn’t realize it would mean the end of everything. Now I carry the guilt of wondering, did I make this happen through sheer willingness? Did I end the world with a daydream?
By JAMIE MCCLELLAND5 years ago in Fiction
Chronicles
September 7, 2023 My beautiful wife gifted me this journal last night. I quit journaling years ago, but today seems as good a day as any to begin again. And what a beautiful, glorious day today is!
By MELISSA BAILEY5 years ago in Fiction
Good morning, Helen
It's been twenty years since it happened. We are underground now. The survivors are only here because of her sacrifice. She gave everything for us. She sacrificed it all. No one knew what that locket held, and the secret she kept until now. I hope you take this as a warning after we are long gone.
By Hillary5 years ago in Fiction
family comes first
I’ve heard of bombings happening in the news. Seen on TV that they’ve happened in other places across the country––across the globe. They started in the major cities, but then other places, too. This war…was something big. Something different.
By Ren S5 years ago in Fiction
Stuck in the Eternal Traffic Jam
The year is 3034. I have been stuck in this traffic jam for three weeks now. If you want to know how and why you find this letter, and myself, stuck in what I know to be an eternal traffic jam, by all means read on. But I warn you now that what you learn here can never be unlearnt.
By Megan Kingsbury5 years ago in Fiction
Be free
A man pushed the array of handwritten papers and photographs to the edge of the weathered table. Moving slowly, as if held down by invisible muck, he retrieved a yellowed glass box from the side of the room, long absolved by darkness. Not a single roach had rustled in vast rooms of once glorious apartment, not a single spider had remained in long forgotten corners, leaving behind intricate fringes of lacy webs to collect dust and desolation. Only the restless, ghostly Echo still roamed here, tormented by the stuffiness of rooms, filled with decaying antiquities. It devised a game: Echo mimicked the hollow sound of water drop, playfully flicked the tin pan, resonated onto the gilded edge of a wood carved mirror, sticking out from underneath a filthy cloth and... died off reaching the end of the wavelength. "Good effort!" Re-assured itself Echo- "Maybe next time I can shoot further, behind what used to be the bedroom, maybe.. just maybe, I can stretch the soundwave past the velvet baldachin of his odious bed and then.... I can reach the window and break free!" But every time the heavy folds of thick velvet would gently embrace Echo, hollowly absorbing it. And sedated, Echo dwelled in plush prison, lulled to sleep by the whispers of creasing fabric.
By Salomé Saffiri5 years ago in Fiction
Jo’s Find
Ash filtered through the air from the scorched sky. The land for miles was a wasteland. Detritus of a forgotten word lay so thick you could not see the earth. Jo’s boots crunched thoughtlessly over forgotten objects. A grandfather clock with a shattered face, a solitary slender arm, still circling. A testament to the craftsmanship of its creator. A porcelain doll now limb-less, it’s unblinking stare witness to untold horrors. Jo marched on, ignorant to the memories being ground underfoot. Jo was looking for items useful now. What good was a clock in a land devoid of time? There was only the endless grey day now, the monotony broken only by the torrential acid rains. Jo bent double to examine a small shovel. Now this could be useful. Picking up the dusty shovel at the same time as dropping her pack, Jo didn’t notice at first she was unearthing a gravesite.
By Amie 5 years ago in Fiction
The Photo on the Nightstand
I gently rapped my knuckles on the door. "Mark?" I gently called out. "I wanted to apologize. Mark?" No response came from inside his room. I knocked louder this time. The door silently crept open.
By Katarzyna Crevan5 years ago in Fiction
Eyes for Elsewhere
Night had fallen, and from his place atop the watchtower, Storm saw Metanoia come alive. The city was an expanse of colorful neon signs, holograms, and restless citizens. And even though he had lived among them his entire life, they always felt miles away. Dancing to a beat he refused to follow. He imagined the day every deception pooled to the ground like curtains stripped of purpose. Then, all eyes would see that there was more to the world than the happenings within the walled city. But as he overlooked all he had ever known, he accepted that he was swimming against the current.
By Hannah Moore5 years ago in Fiction
The Dharma Concerto
Dharma: an aspect of truth or reality. All dharmas are forms of emptiness. T. was all eyes, wild and vivid like there was something complex and mysterious just beyond those tiny blue eyes of hers! Lured each and every one of us to her like little druggie moths to a flame. We were like her favorite collection! We were the nonsensical entertainments of youth! Every day, we would joust for her. Anything that could win us attention, or special winnings with her. She had known us since childhood, and together, we made many amicable aspirations: whether in recording music or recording the destruction of our formidable minds. She loved each and every one of our muddy personalities, lifestyles, moods, and attitudes with fierce, amorous love! And we would have basically done anything for her. Death and all. We could decompose our very energies and soul! We were totally fucking doomed off the rip.
By Justin Fong Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
Scorched
Scorched. The sirens are loud and relentless tonight. The fires must be dangerously close to the tunnel's entrance. It’s consistently too hot to bear down here, so there’s no way of knowing for sure.
By Moon Libersat5 years ago in Fiction
The Beginning of the End
The Beginning of the End. They called me an alarmist or conspiracy theorist back in 2021, but I hate to say it but, I was right. Back in 2021 the Russians became partners with China to develop their space program together. I had told people that this was just the beginning. See Russia and China already had a partnership that was developed in Sri Lanka over 20 years ago. See the Chinese was making a large port bringing sand from the bottom of the ocean to make the huge Port of Colombo.
By Veronica Somaratna5 years ago in Fiction