Humor
Frisson. Content Warning.
I feel a smidge retarded up there, whirling upside down by the skin of my thighs. I like the outfit though. The leather feels good— it's a tactile thing. The chains on it feel cold and crisp when I snap it on. I feel like the Batman of sadomasochism.
By Noah Husband11 days ago in Fiction
We Set a Place for Her Out of Habit
On the first Sunday after the funeral, my mother set out five plates instead of four. She did it the way she did everything in the kitchen—without flourish, without apology, as if the act were too ordinary to notice. The roast came out of the oven. The green beans steamed in their bowl. The good napkins, still faintly smelling of starch, were folded into rectangles and laid beside the forks.
By Edward Smith13 days ago in Fiction
Low Hanging Fruit. Runner-Up in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge.
The dead man hung over the boardroom table. The hangman’s noose affixed to the ceiling rafter was well tied so his shoes just barely hovered above the table and his body lazily swayed back and forth, never fully coming to a complete rest.
By Adam Kolozetti13 days ago in Fiction
There’s a Cow in the Room. Honorable Mention in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge.
Brian was attending the wake of his work colleague, Barry Rajacostellino. He never really liked the guy that much, although he had sat next to him at work for the last four years. Four years of putting up with garlic breath and his constant snorts instead of just blowing his nose.
By Calvin London14 days ago in Fiction
Happy Birthday To Me 5th March Top Story
Here’s to tomorrow. My birthday. March 5th. Another year older, another year alive, another year of stories, laughter, chaos, and love. I love my family, the ones who make the noise bearable, the hugs unforgettable, the memories sticky like honey on your fingers.
By George’s Girl 2026 14 days ago in Fiction
One Table With The Wifem One Bar With Lads
One Table With The Wifem One Bar With Lads They sat across from each other in the low gold light of a Thursday evening. Two men who had known each other since their voices were breaking and their chins were bare. The pub was loud but not wild yet. The kind of noise that carries laughter and old stories without asking for trouble. Tom lifted his pint and said, answer me straight. If you had one free night, no work tomorrow, no excuses, would you book a quiet dinner with your lady, candlelight, clean shirt, proper conversation, or would you come here, shoulder to shoulder with the lads, and drink until the stories turn reckless. No middle ground.
By George’s Girl 2026 14 days ago in Fiction
