Short Story
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
The hallway buzzed with the low hum of lockers slamming and the soft rustle of backpacks, but the most conspicuous feature of the day was the sea of masks that turned every familiar face into a muted silhouette. The school’s new health ordinance, enacted after a spate of seasonal illnesses, required every student to wear a protective covering that filtered breath and muffled speech, turning ordinary greetings into barely audible “hey” and “what’s up?” whispered through fabric. Posters plastered on the bulletin boards reminded everyone, “Keep a six‑foot radius and stay masked at all times,” and the principal’s voice crackled over the intercom each morning, reiterating the rules with a tone that blended authority and reassurance. Even the teachers, their own masks patterned with whimsical cartoons, moved from class to class with the same cautious choreography, stepping lightly and waving their gloved hands to signal “good morning” without breaking the invisible barrier that now defined social interaction.
By Forest Greenabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
“I’m thinking of going with a navy blazer and the silver sequined dress underneath,” Valerie announced, her eyes widening as if she could already see the fabric catching the party lights. Megan imagined the texture, the way the sequins would ripple as Valerie moved across the dance floor, and felt a surge of anticipation for the reunion that had been months in the making, each detail of the outfit becoming a promise of the night’s potential.
By Forest Greenabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
The Zenith
The rain in Oakhaven didn’t wash things clean; it just turned the town’s secrets into a thick, grey sludge. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the derelict community garden, his boots sinking into the sodden earth. Beside him stood his three closest allies: Sarah, a former schoolteacher with kind eyes; Julian, a local carpenter who believed in the weight of a handshake; and Maya, a young idealist who thought the law was a shield rather than a weapon.
By Meko James about 13 hours ago in Fiction
Human and the Cosmos
Human and the Cosmos Faramarz Parsa Time moved steadily forward, and humanity—its feet chained to time—never ceased striving to build. Not merely to live, but to create something beyond life; something through which it could see God and uncover the secrets of the universe.
By Ebrahim Parsaabout 16 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
Joan, remembering the campus cafeteria’s infamous pizza nights, added, “Don’t forget the comfort foods—maybe a nostalgic ‘pizza and soda’ station for the younger crowd who remembers those late‑night study sessions.” Megan, always mindful of inclusivity, reminded them to consider vegetarian, vegan, and gluten‑free options, proposing a “food‑style” approach where several stations offered varied cuisines, from Mediterranean mezze to classic Southern barbecue, ensuring everyone could find something they enjoyed. Valerie, drawing on her recent research, offered to circulate a short pre‑event survey to gauge dietary preferences, promising to compile the data into a concise report that the catering team could use to tailor their menu. The conversation flowed from one gastronomic idea to another, weaving in considerations for sustainable sourcing, budget constraints, and the potential for a signature cocktail named after their graduating year, a playful nod that would likely become a conversation starter at the event.
By Forest Greena day ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
Megan, feeling the momentum building, pivoted the conversation toward the most important missing piece: inviting Valerie, the quiet but ever‑present member of their trio who had drifted away after graduation. “Valerie’s been the glue that kept us connected through the group chat,” Megan said, her tone both apologetic and hopeful, “and I think we owe it to her to make sure she’s the first person we bring into the fold for the reunion plans.” She typed a quick message into the Zoom chat, asking the others if they agreed to send a personal video invitation, rather than a generic email, to convey the sincerity of their intentions. Joan immediately answered, “Absolutely—she’ll appreciate a face‑to‑face invite, even if it’s virtual.” Emily, already pulling up a draft of a short, heart‑warming clip, added, “I’ll record a quick ‘Welcome to the Reunion Planning Committee’ video, and we can splice in some of our old yearbook photos for a nostalgic touch.” The trio’s unanimous agreement sparked a brief moment of collective anticipation, as they imagined Valerie’s reaction to seeing her three best friends rallying together on screen.
By Forest Greena day ago in Fiction
Toy Story Dog
In a quiet neighborhood, behind a house filled with broken toys and scattered memories, lived a fierce dog named Scud. People saw him as dangerous—always barking, always chasing, always angry. Children avoided the yard, and even adults kept their distance. To them, Scud was nothing more than a guard dog with sharp teeth and a wild temper.
By hamad khan2 days ago in Fiction
Midnight Bus
The bus doors opened with a long metallic sigh, even though no one had pressed the stop button. For a moment, I stood on the empty sidewalk wondering if I had imagined it. The streetlights flickered softly above me, and the road stretched into darkness like an unanswered question. I had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes, and the city around me had already fallen asleep.
By Vocal Member 2 days ago in Fiction
Bahlool and the Price of a Smell
Bahlool and the Price of a Smell Old Baghdad was a city of many sights and even more smells. On a particularly hot and dusty afternoon, a poor Arab beggar arrived in the city after a long journey across the desert. He was tired, his clothes were covered in sand, and his stomach was growling with hunger. However, his pockets were completely empty. He didn't have a single coin to buy even the smallest piece of fruit.
By Amir Husen2 days ago in Fiction
Crier
“Hear ye, hear ye…!” He really went all out this time. I mean, no one expected Albert to wear the full outfit that early into the celebrations. It was six in the morning, and he was right in the dead center of Antonville, right underneath the bunting and the flags, standing by the statue of the town founder (not important right now, but you know the place is called Antonville, so…), and he did not even have a microphone or bullhorn. But I heard him. He was right by my café and I had just gotten up to make the coffee for the day. Not that I did not expect to see him out there, but it was a real shock to hear it at first.
By Kendall Defoe 2 days ago in Fiction
