Nov 09
fiction 3 comments challenge: Club
22donam's picture

This guy asked me to join his club

"Mate, this guy just asked me yesterday if I wanted to join his club."

"Woah, what'd ya say?"

"Well obviously I asked him what it was about, you know?"

"Don't tell me it was some kinda cult or somethin' freaky like that."

"Geez no, he said it was a book club."

"Oh yeah? Sounds chill."

"And then I asked him if you could come, cause I thought you would love to go."

"Aww that's sweet."

"But then this jerk is like "No way your friend's got issues" 





"Haha oml, thanks for that"

"No problem mate, anyone that's got beef with you has got beef with me"
Oct 19

The Jump

The Jump
My feet crunched the snow as my thick boots led me toward the hill. It was mid-winter, a warmer day than most, and the tramping was making my forehead sweat. My friend Clementine was ahead of me, my short legs and puffy snowsuit weighing me down-and slowing me down. Finally, I reached the top of the hill. I sat down, not caring if my butt got wet or not. Mindlessly, my mittens picked up a ball of snow and packed it evenly. This was the best packing snow of the winter. It was the perfect mixture of wet and fluffy, a combination rare at least to Vermont. Judson, another friend, was thinking the same thing.
Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Mar 27
isabelle.chen's picture

Into the Pine Woods

You’re outside, deep within the vast pine forest.
The earthy aroma is unmistakably there
And you can feel the ground’s texture through the soles of your shoes.
You run through the woods feeling like the carefree child you were years ago.
You finally stop in your tracks, breathing in the pine needle scent.
You look up and come eye to eye with the starry night.
A thick blanket covering the universe with tiny specks of twinkling light scattered across it.
Then there’s the moon who’s equally bright and equally as beautiful among his star companions. 
You notice how when the moon isn’t at his fullest light or greatest shape, the stars are always there waiting on him.
It doesn’t matter how many nights it takes for the moon to look his best in all his entirety,
The stars will still be there and until he does, they’ll still be there afterwards.
Now you stare in awe at what beauty the world provides us.
Mar 27
Abby_C's picture

The Ship

Izzy and I race around the yard. It’s sundown and we are trying to catch lightning bugs. We race and tumble until we fall. We laugh and roll around until our sides hurt. Then we just lay there and look at the stars. We point out the constellations we know. Big Dipper, Little Dipper, and Ursa Major. We name stars after people we know. But then something catches our eye. It’s moving with blinking lights. It’s not an airplane. It’s the wrong shape and moving way too fast. As it crosses the sky in front of us, it leaves a white trail behind it. We use our phones to zoom into whatever it is. It’s a really weird shape. It’s like a pyramid with a cylinder attached to the bottom. Neither of us have ever seen anything like it. We stay in silence, not knowing what to say, and then there is a huge flash of light.
Mar 27

The poet, the baker and the miracle

The poet wakes up in her apartment across the street from mine. She sleeps with the windows open and with a yellow comforter. Don't ask me how I know. In the mornings the poet sips coffee, sits on her sill and looks out over her city. The following includes much uplifting and soaring of spirits. The poet's clothes seem to quit and retire to the skies were they fly away like birds. She used to tell me writing naked was her only refuge. She used to tell me lots of things. For that moment her body was made of light, shining in the new york city sunrise. Her dreadlocks spilling over her shoulders like honey. She still writes it but her smile doesn't bother to come in her home and the light doesn't hang on her like needy children anymore. The only children she said she would ever have. The poet hates hats and roses. She drinks coffee with more cream than bean. She can't bake for the life of her. I used to cook for her. She loved chocolate chip cookies.
Mar 27
KACourtois's picture

Wrong Turn

“Wrong Turn”
By: Kyle A. Courtois
Mar 27
jasperj802's picture


The beauty of the night sky was something to marvel at. I lived out in the country three miles away from the nearest town. There was no air pollution so I could easily see every star in the galaxy, or so it seemed. I could easily make out Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, but I could not find Orion for the life of me. It was easy for me to get distracted from my task. The view was magnificent. I tried to keep trudging along and put the massive bag in the bed of my truck. It had been a peculiar day. I hadn’t been myself for the past few months and today was the culmination of a lot of different factors. When I went to the doctor, he told me nothing was wrong and that I looked as “healthy as a horse”. I think he was lying to me. My wife was always supportive and never pried too much. Until today. She told me that I was acting erratic and that she wanted to spend the night away from me down the road. I did not handle it well. I asked if she ever really loved me? If she even cared about me?
Mar 26
BorayZ's picture

A Drastic Decision

    “Our planet is dying. Plain and Simple. For hundreds of years, humans have leached its natural resources. For hundreds of years humans have ignored its plea for us to stop and think for just a single second,” I turned to look at Cara who was lying on the cool grass beside me. 
    “Stop talking nonsense, Nico, we still have plenty of time. There is no need to do anything drastic,” Cara looked back at the night sky, and I followed her gaze.
    “If we have the opportunity to make a change.--”
    “EVEN. If what we have to do is drastic. Even if we have to uproot our entire lives. We have to give it a try. I hope you’ll come with me, but if you don’t, I’ll go nonetheless.”
    “We don’t have to. Let the experts do their job; they won’t want any helpless kids following them around anyways,” Cara sat up and shook the grass out of her short caramel-colored hair. “I’m getting cold, let’s go inside.”
Mar 26
fiction 0 comments challenge: Mars


The red planet. An orange star far off into space.  One space behind the home planet we call Earth. The planet where humans believed the only life in the universe existed on. Until now. The second smallest planet in our solar system has now become a home to people from Earth due it’s slow but steady death. The planet we once called home, meeting it’s fate. Death. Death to all living things. Slowly but surely dying. The emissions that people chose to take no precautions with catching up to us when we least expected it. The only thing left, is to start over. On the red planet. 
Mar 26
fiction 0 comments challenge: Mars
alyssap's picture

A Chance For Mars

    One day there was a sign while I was walking. I read the sign. The sign said someone could move to a planet. I went home and told my family about it. They said that was nice but I couldn’t move there. 

    The next day, I went back to the sign and read it again. In my mind I pictured how nice it would be if I could move to a planet. I went back home. I tried to tell my parents  of how nice it would be to move to a planet. I talked to them but couldn’t convince them.

    I tried but then got an idea. I told them that it was cheaper than buying a regular house. They believed me. I went to the building that was on the sign. The building was huge. I went inside and asked for the person that was making it possable to move to a planet. The guards at the front door brought me to him. 
Mar 25

Connect: A Fictional Story

The sun beat down with the ferocity of a tiger. Mia strolled along the busy streets of Monroe to her father’s pediatric practice. It was the last day of summer, and she was enjoying one last ice cream cone. Tomorrow, she would be starting middle school at Monroe Middle. 
Mia opened the door, crunching the last bit of the waffle cone. A blast of cool air greeted her sweaty face.
Mar 25

From Wingate to Davidson

She stared at her old house, receding in the distance. The old farmhouse which had treated her so well. The house on top of the hill, with its mint curtains and plum shutters. She sighed and twisted. 
“Dad, are we there yet?” she asked. 
“Sweetie, we just left the house 5 minutes ago! Like I said, it’ll be an hour from Wingate to Davidson.”
She sighed again and put an Airpod in each ear. She listened to the playlist her best friend helped her create last year. The country music filled her ear. It reminded her of so much. Of her grandfather, tending to the cows. Of her grandmother’s freshly baked cookies.
Mar 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Lost


The cold, gray morning made me feel lonelier than ever, like nothing mattered. Like I didn’t matter. Fog obscured my vision for miles in either direction. The ocean swooshed around, churning up gray froth as the stiff wind howled. I should’ve brought my jacket, I thought, rubbing my bare arms. The landscape was eerily quiet; not another soul in sight. I was running down the empty beach, alone, at around 6 AM in the morning.
Just then, a giant wave crashed onto the shore. Yet another one followed, and then another, and finally, I could see the outline of a gargantuan, behemoth of a wave in the distance. I kept running forward, further away from the beach house. Something inside of me said I should turn back, but I refused to listen. The water seemed to be shouting my name. Come here, John. I sighed. At least someone, or something, wants me. Thoughts swirled in my mind: Why did I have to have that big fight with my parents last night? Why don’t they love me? 
Mar 25

How to Eat an Apple (an excerpt from my novel.)

   (An excerpt from my novel, Tone Vestige!)   

   Percy gazes up at the tree thoughtfully. What was it Neccei had said to him about apples? He ponders this for a moment, racking his muddled brain for the memory, then grins, hoisting himself up to the lowest branch. Yes, now he remembers, she had told him that the first bite of any apple is always the best bite. No joke, she had promised.

   What wonderful things Neccei always taught him!

   Percy climbs higher up into the tree, until he is eye-level with a large, red apple that looks quite delicious. He reaches up and picks it, balancing on a rather thin branch that is barely keeping him from tumbling to the ground. He takes a large bite out of the apple, his grin widening as it makes a satisfying snapping sound when his teeth sink into it. Neccei had been right!The first bite of this apple had been very enjoyable. 
Mar 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Mars
farmer boy's picture



“Mom, please?” I asked.

“I said no, we are not moving to Mars.” My mom said.

“Why, mom?” I asked. I have really wanted to move to Mars ever since they opened land for sale. NASA said over the news that land was cheap on Mars. I thought mom and I needed a new start and Mars was the perfect place to do that.

I had been bugging my mom to move to Mars for months. I had tried everything I could think of that would get her to move. I tried pleading to her to move. I also had tried to be really, really nice to her but that didn’t work.  All I got from that was more chores. My last option was to try to persuade her to move to Mars. I decided to sleep on the idea for a while. I woke up in the middle of the night and I have the perfect idea...

 I might have to wake her up really early to get her to agree with me. I woke up early this morning and I finally got mom to wake up. “Mom, can we move to Mars?” I asked.
Mar 25
fiction 1 comment challenge: Starry
nfarnham's picture

The Cliff

    I run through the woods, my hands trailing on the foliage along the sides of the packed down trail. The trail had been used by me, my mother, and her mother, and so on and on. It led to a small magical place where I felt safe. It was the most beautiful place on earth. The only place where I felt I couldn’t be touched. As I got to the end of the trail I slowed my pace to a walk. I took a few moments before the end of the trail to notice the bright white lily’s lining the sides of the trail. They were almost glowing against the dark green ferns. Little spots of magic. 

    As I broke out of the woods I took in a deep breath and smelled the sweet salty air of the ocean. There it was. Everything I wanted. Just to stay here. There was a beach that raced for miles along the waterline. The giant rock that was pointed at the front, only a few shades darker than the sand. 
Mar 24

The Slaughter Star

Alice picked up her little brother and tucked him into the fold of her hip that had only just begun to blossom last year. Nico wound his small hand in her dark, golden curls that fell down to her mid shoulder. His chubby three year old body leaning into her expanding chest. Alice took one last look at the old decrepit graveyard, it looked almost beautiful, shining in the sunset. All the same, she clutched Nico to her chest and felt bursts of regret for the dead, even though she knew no dead slept beneath these headstones. She heard Liam from down the road, calling her name. Alice turned, not bothering to tie her shoe laces, if not for perfection, for safety... she was too consumed with the slip of paper burning holes in her pocket. Their older brother, Liam, was closer now, Alice hurried to catch up with him. “Alice, mum's waiting for us!” Alice walked faster. “Coming” she cried.