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Editors’ Picks

Each month our Editors pick those which we believe are exceptional.

Due to the sheer volume of submissions, sometimes stories do not stay on the front page for more than a few hours, and some absolute gems get lost in the crowd. Hence we've created this “Editors’ Picks” page, where we call out what we believe are some truly extraordinary pieces of writing.

We may miss some too, but most of those that deserve higher praise will be listed here.

Spirit Of Someone

Another diary entry…

Yet another scribbled entry in this diary of lies, Paralysed, in this pseudo world of one. Whispers, whispers of near-naked misunderstandings, Sometimes hard to breathe through invisible tears. Safe, warm worlds under cold silken sheets equals, Dream. Cur...

Score 17 17
15
131 Views 131
201 words 201 words

Lonely Reverie

Alone in the woods seeking solace

I walk alone by crystal stream, Beneath a canopy of green, In hopes that I can find a place, To gaze up at the sky and dream. Can my heart find solace there Within the realm of Nature fair, Where Peace is found in such sweet space, So far from any human c...

It was between him and her, and her and her, and like always I was caught in between, a bottle of bourbon trapped between my thighs while I nursed the glass—the alcohol burned fresh paths down my throat, drawing parallels with the scars that ran down my a...

Score 10 10
10
275 Views 275
4.5k words 4.5k words

The Blue Danube Waltz

Would you go back and try to change history if you had the chance?

The old man sat at the table, watching the couples dance. He stared into his glass of Schnapps. The taste did nothing for him. Nothing did anything for him anymore. He wasn’t sure why he’d come. The lecturers and professors got younger every year. He felt...

The Wonderful World of Wally Weasel

Not everything is parmesan at the pizza party place...

We all make poor life choices. Mine just happens to be pizza. You’d think working at the nostalgia-laden Wally World would be a dream come true. Maybe for kid me, with all the arcade games that spat out tickets like confetti, ball pits, and colorful chara...

Innocent Until Proven Gullible

One person's cure is another person's weapon...

Her yelling annoyed me. It always did. Helicopter moms. Can’t live with them. Dad certainly couldn’t. But until I finished university, I couldn’t live without. Her house. Her rules. Mom’s nagging, she claimed, was always in everyone's best interest. Dad b...

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Just a Girl Who Loves Cats

Things are not as they seem...

Present day Ron – the closest thing I had to a friend in school – had disappeared. That's not all. It was much worse than the simple disappearance of one boy. Much worse, trust me. What's left of their families still seek answers, but they won't find any...

Whatever

Do the angels override apathy and help shape the course of human history?

This numerology thing is cool, but thematically unrelated, but I lead with it anyway. If you add the first twenty even numbers, starting with two and ending with forty, the sum of those twenty numbers equals four hundred and twenty. Go ahead. Try it. Or n...

Pine

Can we ever escape our dreams?

“Boy oh boy, it’s a hot one,” my wife exclaimed as she gave the sweating pitcher one last swirl before pouring each of us a glass. Exhausted and relieved, I sipped my iced tea while slowly rocking in the hammock of our screened porch. I savored my reward...

Monster

What makes a monster?

My grandmother tried to kill me in my crib when I was two months old. She’s dead now. Did I kill her? I don’t know. It’s not a simple question, and there are no simple answers. All I remember is being covered in blood, her blood, as I lay in my crib. # I...

The Girl With More Than One Name

Sometimes you need to get lost in order to be found.

Charlotte Hale hated that she had to gather wild berries. It wasn’t that gathering wild berries was hard. It was that gathering them was not hard and at sixteen, she felt like it was demeaning. Her eight-year-old stepbrother, Albert, was perfectly capable...

As We Were

A long road is ten years

Ten years. Yes, almost exactly. Biking to school I, all big-mouthed and cocky, sped past her on my racing bike, grasping at her jet-black plait. Me, away laughing. At fifteen, a tinge of jealousy when she held hands with Norman? I would vehemently deny th...