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Short stories & poems

All Poetry Science Fiction Action & Adventure Fantasy Romance Horror Crime, Mystery & Thriller YA Fiction Humour Western

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BRISKET BOY

THE TURKISH LUR

1 min read

Archeologists have made a breaking discovery in Turkey’s ancient musical history: the

Lillie

The Path

3 min read

Slowly, carefully, Hector walks along the narrow path, leading his horse Carrot behin

liss ♡

Her

1 min read

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her. Her dark beauty renders the

soup

the cat, the goat, and the girl

2 min read

A cat, a goat, and a girl walk down the hill, their footfalls synced, their breath al

Rae Potts

Rumors

5 min read

For the first time in a long time, I dreaded going to work. Not because work was terr

DalaryWrites

Narration

1 min read

In the realm of the written word, there lies A powerful entity, which holds the keys

Read more mystery writings

Custody

Aidan Doyle

1 min read

Cut Like pieces Of birthday cake. Some for you! And some for me? Too busy Focusing on who gets a slice, To look at the dessert itself. Decorated and Devoured But who is it really for? Never for me, Never my own. For I am the line The divide between two people, Yet I am the strings Binding them together. Cut into me Right down the middle And see for yourself If there’s enough to share.

Poetry

Mystery

Purple Clouds

Dane Phelps

1 min read

Purple haze across the seas. There’s no other place I’d rather be. An insinuating sight with glamour and grandeur. The hills have brought it all together with galant splendor. Amongst the days I look out to thee. Underestimating my life makes me an amateur but not a trainee. The hills are said to have eyes however much of what I’ve heard in life are just straight lies. The fibs of the ignorant allow many to see it their own way. Every day we all wake up and ponder about life, each one of us working for some type of pay. But who stops to see the beauty of the greatness? The colors, the feelings, the perception, the rays of light. Knowledge comes to those who are known yet reality can be a lot of hype. Show me the truth, show me the Matrix, show me what’s behind the curtain. Knowing thyself will be the main forefront of all who truly claim to already be certain. Let’s take a day or take ten or take a thousand. Every moment one spends alone in silence is the spiritual work of ten thousand. But the one you want to desire is truly the one you want to be. At the end of the day, it’s always you, it’s always them, it’s always me. We are here to grow and learn, to evolve and to become something new. Allowing things to come and go is the appropriate kin and kingdom of Anu. Mindfulness and greatness are the tools of God and the Heavens. When we look up above we see ourselves and our brethren, our ancestors, and redemption. Much love, Namaste!

Poetry

Mystery

Discovery Of Self

Kamelia Sekrane

1 min read

I always saw the world from a different glass, my window was black and white and lifeless too but today I saw a hint of something that could turn into my discovery of my dear self , it was something that I thought was so shiny that my eyes shuttled away from the sight of it , I can’t name it yet because I have no knowledge or experience in human colors but I think people call it golden yellow and it was the ray of sunshine that I saw everyday from my eyes window but now it was a new ray of sunshine one with a vibrant light that it could go through me and I wouldn’t mind , my eyes started tearing from this scene That they will cherish on forever

Drama

Mystery

Ashore

John

1 min read

The roar of the waves as they broke on the shore was relentless, a deafening cadence as they crashed over body of the small boy that lay face down in the sand. He was still, lifeless, but for the battering of the waves as they pushed and pulled at him. Not even the seagulls circling above on the prevailing winds, peering down with hardened, dried black eyes that knew no conscience, knew quite what to make of his appearance. It was as if he was himself an aberration - as if the ocean itself had plucked him from nothing and spat him out in a tangle of limbs. They could have picked the eyes from any dying thing, but they didn't yet touch the solitary figure lying tossed up on the beach. Slowly the boy began to stir, tiny, fledgling movements at first, the gulls above screaming into the wind as they watched with morbid interest, as if their fates and his were now intertwined on this desolate, wild strip of sand. As he opened his eyes, nothing could have prepared him for the light that pierced his eyelids, and he recoiled. He could feel his chest aching, burning; with a violent shudder he coughed and spluttered, every breath he took earned as he spewed forth a torrent of saltwater that had filled his lungs. Still, he waves were relentless, but he couldn't move, his body too weak, too exhausted; he could feel himself fading into white, collapsing back into the shoals as a shadow fell over him. A piercing screech from above filled the air - was it knowing laughter, or was it a warning?

Mystery

Drama

Hazel

Anthony Cicchino

1 min read

Lewis and I met on the bus back when we were kids. He came up to me first, asking if I wanted to sit with him. I didn’t. But he pushed and pushed until finally I said okay. We became inseparable, spending the night at eachother’s houses more than we were at our own. In school, he was quiet, but when he was alone with me he really came alive. I came to know him better than anybody else, until he moved away in our teenage years and we lost connection. I saw him again today on the news. He looked ragged and hard, but it was Lewis. The caption along the bottom of his mugshot read, “Man Suspected of Multiple Murders Caught in New York.” For some reason, I paused the TV to look at his eyes. Those hazel eyes are soft; eyes that don’t belong to a killer. I knew them well from when we were younger. Yet … they wouldn’t arrest him without any evidence. I shut the TV off, not wanting to think about that little boy I spent so much time with in my childhood.

Mystery

Horror

Deep

Jayjay

1 min read

Those hazel eyes are soft; eyes that don’t belong to a killer. And yet here I am looking deep into them knowing exactly what she’s done.

YA fiction

Mystery

Eyes Can Kill

1 min read

I was walking through the streets, the damp, dark, mossy, stone streets. Before I could react, i was stopped in my tracks, pinned against a car and tied down. I look into his eyes, so thoughtful. So Amused, so angry, so deep. Those hazel eyes are soft; eyes that don’t belong to a killer. But yet they do. I keep staring deep into his eyes, into his soul, wondering if this was a matter of convienience, or a targeted murder. He whispers something under his breath, his voice haunting yet beautiful, before he slowly plunges his knife deep into my side. I didn’t fight or scream just thought about how beautiful his eyes were. As I fell to the ground, my lungs collapsing, my stomach bleeding out, slowly and painfully dying, he took off his mask, revealing his stunning face. Sharp jawline, small but noticeable nose, beautiful hazel yet dead eyes, freckles everywhere, nothing but love for him had I felt. He kissed me hard, pressing his lips against mine with such force they turned purple, while everything slowly went black,

Romance

Mystery

Small

Penfold

1 min read

From up on high, a hush cool focus through time. Breezing wishes; feathers lost. A rainbow of browns, and such soft hazel eyes. Sharpening claws; sharp pause. The cold that knows, no shiver flocking beneath meaty wings. Shapeshifter; enchanted arrow spinner. But again, those soft hazel eyes don’t belong to such a killer. Now shaking head, satisfied. Holding my unflinching gaze still and glinting like a blade. Preening proud, Merlin’s magic abound.

Poetry

Mystery

I thought I was a mother

Soneta

1 min read

I look around. _I am the woman, the mother, and a daughter. _I think this is the right describtion. _I wasn’t asleep, was I? The «dream» seemed too nice._ __ Looking outside the window, I see my husband gardening and deside to go check on him. I go downstairs, feeling strange headache. I hear our kids being nosy somewhere outside too. Soon after I feel the fresh air right in my face as I go to backyard. Once I reach it, I see nobody but plants. The noisy kids got banished just like my husband. _What is happening?_ _Was it really a dream? _ I rush back home, looking for someone., but I only find family photos._ Somethings is off._

Mystery

Why?

Thomas Delrin

1 min read

As normal as everything was on the usual walk home from school, when we reached the edge of the wood line something felt unsettling. My friends Derek, Lizzy, and I had been walking this path home from school for about five years now. Typically you’ll hear some rustling or the animals in the forest that seperates our neighborhood and the field but nothing unusual. Sometimes the snow would weigh heavily, and you’d hear a branches crack in the trees. That was until today when we got just past the start of the forest making our way home, and saw it. In the beginning we all seemed to see it at once which froze us in place. What had at first looked as if someone spilled fruit punch in the snow had rapidly shown to be much more. There was a few little blood droplets in the snow when where we first got near the wood line, but nothing that seemed like more then a paper cut. This scene we stumbled upon going further around the wood line was more like something out of a horror movie. The trees at the egde of the forest near us had red splattered all over them. The entrance to the forest adjacent to us had a large red stain covering all of the snow, and the air felt heavy. Being just kids we froze in a panic for a few minutes. Deciding to run like hell seemed like the only option in the moment, once I saw Derek, and Lizzy make it to there front doors I felt a sigh of relief. I was so grateful that we made it past what we had seen with no issues but it left my mind on an endless loop of asking **WHY? **

Mystery

Horror