Short Story

By Joelle Kardos Surian slouched in his throne. The chair was cold and hard, cut of black onyx, with a great many angles and harsh lines. It had no warmth, no humanity to it. He snorted derisively as that thought crossed his mind. No humanity to it , as if anything worthwhile would bear the touch of humans.  It had been fourteen years since his people had enslaved the vestiges of humanity, and Surian hated the creatures no less. It was not hard to conquer the wretched animals

By Sek Suet Ying @ Sheryn It all started with a simple question from Ms. Eliza. “What is the meaning of life?” The question made some people snicker and laugh but it stuck with me. “That will be the title of your next essay. Since it’s a hard one, I will give you guys until the end of the semester to hand it in.” she added. For once, I was stumped. How could I define something so vast? The meaning of life? It could literally be anything. I was glad that this was the last clas

By Reggie Parker When Auggie was a little boy he discovered a different world. He found it in the backyard, between a gap in the fence that could not be. This was because when he first went through the gap, it should have led to his neighbours house and to their fat cat, Lucy. But it didn’t. It led to a place with snow—which he found odd, because it was the middle of July—and a mediaeval castle so fantastical it seemed straight out of his Tolkien book. Auggie was sure there w

By Sasha Maria Popham Yup, you’ve definitely hit something vital!” She says to me in wavering breaths. Her body is slumped against a wall, opposite to the one I rest against. “I almost got away unscathed too,” She chuckles weakly.  A familiar sound- joyful even, if it was a year ago. But here we were, about to spend our final moments with one another. The castle I chased her into is far from welcoming. And the hallway she had led me down was no exception. I should have known

By Lovely Joy Galez Do you think what's going to happen next? C- What do you mean? L- Are you okay? L- Um ... Yeah... Just wondering...  C- Wondering about what babe? L- About Life? C- Um... can you tell me more about it, please? L- I was just wonderingif what's going to happen next?To another sunset without you by my side. 😓 C- Babe, I'm sorry 😔 L- I know,I'm sorry too... 😔I just miss you so much. C- I miss you too and I love you, you know that right? L- I know, I knowI l

By Larry W. Bumpus Grave’s Woods lay just outside of town along the perimeter of Grave’s Road.  The woods were large and deep. They went for miles.  The woods were dark and forbidding. The trees grew close together and the underbrush was thick.  There are trails that run through the woods that were more than likely made by animals. They seemed to meander all over inside the thick woods.  Most people in Harme’s Way had another name for the woods. They called it Booger Woods. 

By Larry W. Bumpus Jessup Collins was at the still since before the sun came up. He had it fired up and was making some corn liquor. Jessup had been making ‘shine since he was a boy along with his daddy and granddaddy. The recipe had been perfected by Noah Collins, which was Jessup’s great granddaddy and handed down from father to son. Making ‘shine was a tradition in the Collins family. It had been going on beginning with Jessup’s great-great granddaddy Josiah Collins. ‘Shi

By Keertana Saji Calling my day interesting would be an understatement.  Archaeology intrigued me more than anything, no number of books were enough, so I sat in a small open restaurant reading to my heart’s content without any interruptions.  And of course, just because I thought that, I was interrupted.  Correction, rudely  interrupted.  When you see a woman sitting reading her book and casually minding her own business, normal people come and say ‘Hi’, what I heard from th

By Keertana Saji I am waiting.  We await our reunion as a wave does when it meets the shore with joy.  It has been 18 months of our exile from each other and it is our time at last.  I figure, I must explain what I speak of… It began, Oh so long ago. I wish I could remember the beginning.  No… there was no beginning before us. We were all… ***  I was sitting with him infront of me. He was watching me with his fire for eyes. We were always close to each other as the soil was t

By Keertana Saji Her hair fell gracefully on her face and shoulders. The silent breeze in the sky skimmed her skin and her brown eyes glistened in the reflection of moonlight.  The sea playfully touched her feet. She was sitting on the sand, staring at the end of the horizon.  She was waiting for me. I ran to her, “I was right, it is happening. No one believes me, but it’s the year 2123 just like I predicted, you have to trust me and come with me.” “We can’t,” she said in her

By Christian Sarni Once upon a time, somewhere in the folds of time, there lived a young and poor little donkey named Camomillo. By chance, he met a charming she-donkey named Graziella. The two quickly fell in love and decided to get married. However, even in those parts, weddings were expensive, and the young lovers realized they needed to save up a good amount of money. So Camomillo got hired by a mason named Master Cucchiara, who at the time was building a castle on top of

By Vaibhava Beauty was from within but he was beautiful in and out. The silence was deafening. The empty chambers that echo my guttural cries don't seem to soften the blow of his demise, even though we spent our lives loving each other here. All that is now left are his clothes and his cologne I spray all over my bed. Earthy scents help you sleep, they say. All they seem to do is darken my sunken cheekbones and eyes. A third of your life is spent living with volition, if that

By Treesa Mariyam Varghese There is peace in the moment once we feared. When it happens exactly as we feared, we realize that nothing has changed, even the situation. We are back to square one, and does that change anything? No, we are exactly in the same situation as when we started. I guess it’s not the end but a beginning – a beautiful beginning of an unknown end. The end was never known to anyone, but still, everyone walks on that path. Some get stuck in the fear of the e

By Vusurumarthi. Akshaya Srija Logline: When Shourav returns home after his father’s death, a forgotten letter forces him and his mother to confront the silence, betrayal, and love that lingered long after the man was gone. Author’s Note: The Letter He Never Sent  was born from the idea that forgiveness often arrives too late — through things left unsaid, and words left unread. I wanted to explore the quiet grief that lives between a parent and child when love turns into memo

By Vaibhava I rolled over this morning and felt the ghost of his arm around me. Gods this is enough reason to want to wake up every morning. I stretched my arms over my head and groaned and rolled over to face him... Only, he wasn't there. Suddenly the weight around my waist disappeared. My heart dropped as i frantically pull the sheets away, as if he’d be hiding under there. Oh wait, didn't he say he'd wake up early to go golfing with his friends? Of course, how silly of me.

By Vusurumarthi. Akshaya Srija Logline  A woman haunted by her childhood and stifled creativity confronts the lifeless remnants of her younger self, only to discover that the dreams she thought buried still fight to live. The Box  is a psychological tale of repression, trauma, and the fragile persistence of hope. Author’s Note  The Box  explores the inner world of someone whose childhood creativity and joy were suppressed by expectations and fear. It reflects how our past sel

By Vusurumarthi. Akshaya Srija Summary: A woman in her thirties, disconnected from the dreams of her youth, unexpectedly hears her teenage voice on a radio broadcast. Reunited with her best friend and inspired to create again, she rediscovers the courage to pursue her long-suppressed passions, proving it’s never too late to listen to the dreams you once recorded. Author’s Note : For the Dreamers Who Waited  is a story about the quiet persistence of hope and the small, meaning

By Kashish Death heard another call as another fox fell into his hands. He sighed, departing to welcome the poor thing to the afterlife. So many deaths, the number increasing every day. They have been keeping him busy, never sparing any time for him to rest.  It’s not like he looked any different despite being worn out. All he was a ghostly, white, hollow skeleton with nothing but emptiness and darkness within him. He always wore a dark, hooded cloak to cover his nothingness.

By Vusurumarthi. Akshaya Srija 2. One-Line Summary  A young woman stands at the edge of her life, ready to end it all, until her unfinished story whispers for one more day—and that single choice changes everything. 3. Author’s Note  This story is a reflection of silent battles — the moments when giving up feels easier than continuing. One More Day  was born from the belief that stories can save us, even when we think nothing else can. I wrote it to remind anyone lost in the d

By Yash Jain Chapter 1  The Boy Who Bound the Wind The city of Lathra did not pretend to be anything other than itself. It crouched at the edge of an indifferent sea, its streets narrow and crooked as a beggar’s smile, its roofs patched with pieces of other roofs and its towers leaning as if listening for secrets. There were no statues of saints in Lathra and no high temples. The sky offered no answers and the sea kept its silence. In the place of gods the people had a law th