Read stories written by talented authors from around the globe.

Elena Rodriguez's hands trembled as she poured her coffee, spilling drops onto the worn cabin floor. Ten years as a forest ranger, and she'd never felt this uneasy. The storm outside howled, a sound she usually found comforting, but tonight it felt different—menacing, almost sentient. She glanced at the photo on her desk—her and her father, both in ranger uniforms, smiling in front of this very cabin. He had disappeared i...

I screamed. I screamed out eighteen months of weariness from endless touring. I screamed out the anguish and grief of losses that ate at my soul day after day. For sixteen long seconds, I screamed as if my life depended on it. Maybe it did. Then it ended. My lungs were out of air; the song ended. I stopped screaming. My bandmates stopped playing. The SoulScars 2023 tour was over. For a second, maybe even just a millisecon...

Taylor and Matt had their doors open before she put the vehicle in park. They stopped along the street with their rear blue lights activated, already hearing curses from the people of the night gathered at the street corner. Peachtree Street was the melting pot of the slums. Section 8 housing brought every race together under the umbrella of poverty and crime. ‘The towers,’ as cops called them, were a series of aged and r...

I love Vancouver in the Winter – the snow-covered North Shore Mountains, the brisk breeze across the Harbour and Stanley Park to Run. When I’m there, which is a lot, I live in N. Van on the waterfront. Sometimes, I’ll get up very early and have a light pack ready from the night before. At 5 AM, the house is silent apart from the fridge motor and the streets are deserted. Leaving the front door, all I hear is the click of...

“Don’t go 10-8,” Taylor pleaded. “Why?” Matt furrowed his brow. “You know, the second you put us in service, dispatch is gonna send us that stupid domestic on Peachtree.” “No, I’m going to ask for the disorderly in our zone,” Matt reassured and batted away his partner’s extended hand. “Don’t worry, this dispatcher likes me. She always sends me winking faces on her work messages to me.” “She does that to everyone,” Taylor...

The flakes had begun to fall again as Nikolas crested the ridge, melting into his worn parka, a steady white veil swallowing the valley below, making the horizon and the sky blur into an endless sea of white. He tightened the grip on the strap of his backpack and descended, each step crunching faintly beneath his boots, but the sound was swallowed almost immediately, absorbed into the dense, heavy quiet of the snow-covere...

My dad, younger brother, a family friend, and I had rented two canoes for a week and set off on a weeklong canoe-and-portage journey through the marvelous Killarney Park lake system in central Ontario. It had been hard work, but beautiful, camping by the water, eating freeze-dried food by a campfire, and each having an evening tot of Ballentine’s Scotch whisky as we watched the stars emerge. Gliding along a river or lake...

At the wedding, our families like us, had connected and exchanged contact details. Since then, they had chatted periodically, checking in on our happenings, and even met up for lunch once. However, this caused an enormous problem when the crew hit everyone up to film Family Time, where we met up with each family in turn. The families were rather reluctant, and Ellie had actually told the producer “After how you’ve treated...

In moonlight's soft and silvered gleam, Two hearts converge beyond mere dream, A rhythm builds with each soft touch, Each breath connecting—wanting much. Their bodies move in measured sway, Where passion's tender notes will play, Her pulse accelerates—intense— Beyond the bounds of common sense. Like waves that crash upon the shore, Their movements speak of something more, A dance of risk and pure desire, Igniting an inter...

Once, this Space burned bright— a forge of words igniting like molten gold, each post a spark, each reply an igniter binding us in its radiant glow. Now, the embers yield only smoky memories. How we debated, consoled, inspired, woven into priceless ashes. A library with its doors ajar, dust weighing down unread stories, silence pooling in this Space where imagination used to bloom. As I walk through this Space, seeing rel...

I screamed. I screamed out eighteen months of weariness from endless touring. I screamed out the anguish and grief of losses that ate at my soul day after day. For sixteen long seconds, I screamed as if my life depended on it. Maybe it did. Then it ended. My lungs were out of air; the song ended. I stopped screaming. My bandmates stopped playing. The SoulScars 2023 tour was over. For a second, maybe even just a millisecon...

I used to be lonely, wishing for someone to talk to me. Be careful of wishes. It was then that one of them appeared. Let me warn you: they are like cockroaches. Once you see one, there are a thousand more lurking…waiting its turn. Now, they won’t leave me alone. They invade my work. Some crawl into bed with me. A few badger me in my intimate space—the bathroom. They persist like weeds in a sidewalk crack. What are they? O...

I love Vancouver in the Winter – the snow-covered North Shore Mountains, the brisk breeze across the Harbour and Stanley Park to Run. When I’m there, which is a lot, I live in N. Van on the waterfront. Sometimes, I’ll get up very early and have a light pack ready from the night before. At 5 AM, the house is silent apart from the fridge motor and the streets are deserted. Leaving the front door, all I hear is the click of...

Once, this Space burned bright— a forge of words igniting like molten gold, each post a spark, each reply an igniter binding us in its radiant glow. Now, the embers yield only smoky memories. How we debated, consoled, inspired, woven into priceless ashes. A library with its doors ajar, dust weighing down unread stories, silence pooling in this Space where imagination used to bloom. As I walk through this Space, seeing rel...

Once, a boy was asked by his mother, what he wanted to become in his life. He said—a writer. The mother laughed. But seeing the boy’s expressions firm and eyes in flames, she said; “Well, you sure, that is what you want to do? Writers are all insane. They always smoke and drink. They live with many women. They are nasty creatures and governments hunt them.” The boy looked sad. And he said nothing in return. He decided to...

Where are my children? Why didn't I get one? She got two And I got none. Why can't I have one? Just one little oneIt doesn't seem fair Now it's all said and done. We tried and we tried None stayed here with me.Everything seems empty Why couldn't we be three? No frilly dresses No swings in our yard No crib in the bedroom No Lego to pull apart. No cute little bundle With sweet smelling hair No sleepless nights Spent in a ro...

I think I used to know you a long time ago... you were a princess who lived high in a castle.. and I... was an ugly troll who lived under a bridge.. but I used to watch you.. the way the breeze would flow through your hair... the way you laughed.. the way your eyes would make everyone around you glad you were near... and I remember how happy I was... just to hear you walk across my bridge. You once turned to look at me......

Dad was at work. Mom was at the grocery store. Her sister Em was at a friend’s house. El sat on her bed, playing with her kitten, Shadow. El had a feather on a string, and tossed it out like a fishing line for Shadow to chase. Something sounded from outside the room. Shadow jumped off the bed at once, his attention no longer on the feather. He bolted out of the room and took a sharp turn into the hallway.  El followed him...