Historical
Mors Invicta: Remembered Only as Footnotes
Unsheathed, my blade shone like the moon on the darkest eve as the sun rose above me. Though it had yet to meet the entrails of the beasts that threatened peace and sanity, my hands were bathed in the blood of legions.
By Paul Stewart11 minutes ago in Fiction
The Boston-Davos Five
The Boston-Davos Five (that's what the five of us call our little mini, unfunded, informal think tank) started meeting once a year after Davos. You know, the international conference on the environment. We were there three years ago, all of us grad students then, and we promised we would work together to make a difference. We aren't idealists, at least not completely. Pete's the most pragmatic, and also the quietest, V-necked sweater, glasses as thick as Coke bottles. He's a biology postdoc at MI-fricking-T.
By Paul A. Merkleyabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
Brave Mother Dog Stops a Speeding Train to Save Her Puppy
The early morning air was cool and quiet. A thin layer of fog floated over the countryside, and the rising sun painted the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. Birds chirped gently in the trees, and the world slowly began to wake up.
By Abubakar220about 18 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 about 24 hours ago in Fiction
The Solitude of The Chupacabra. Top Story - March 2026.
Many say that the Chupacabra is a rather recent and modern tale, a mangy coyote or rabied dog. Some point out that it’s just twisted evolution. But very few know the true backstory of the shapeshifter that led to the bloodsucking legend. And perhaps once you will come to know and understand more, you might “forget” a few cattle out to wander.
By Oneg In The Arctic3 days ago in Fiction
When we shook the apple tree
The gates of Eden have long been locked away from human eyes. Centuries have passed without incident. One day, without warning, a mighty storm gathered over the garden itself. A terrible wind blew the vines and limbs loose, exposing the gates to prying eyes. Myron and Mirah, out for a stroll and trying to seek shelter from the deluge, discovered the gate and pried it open. Time had rendered it loose and it easily fell open.
By Novel Allen3 days ago in Fiction
The Safety Bell
Pity hung from the funeralgoers' faces. They were something out of a nightmarish painting; not sure what to do with their mouths, some pinching them closed, others looked like they were caught mid scream. Most of the women had watering eyes that they tried to avert from meeting Albert’s. For some reason, it made him feel ashamed.
By Nikki Torino Wagner3 days ago in Fiction
The Night the Sky Burned
The desert wind howled across the Middle East as the sun dipped below the horizon. In the distance, the lights of cities flickered like fragile stars—Tehran, Tel Aviv, and distant American bases scattered across the region. The world held its breath.
By Abubakar2203 days ago in Fiction
