Stories and poems that have made it into our recommended reading section are hand picked by our staff. They have been identified as exceptional pieces of writing, which warrant separate recognition.
Stories that are part of a series, or novels that have made it into this outstanding series section, are nominated by our staff and awarded by a select panel. These stories have been deemed superior as complete works and have garnered special recognition.
You are almost certainly guaranteed a good read, if you've selected a story from these offerings!
Hi, folks.My name is Bruiser. I'm a little dachshund. I weigh in at five pounds soaking wet. I'm two years old. I'm adorable and playful.But enough about me. This story is about my human Mommy and Daddy.I was just sitting there eavesdropping under the cof...
July’s midsummer heat stuck. It stuck to the blades of grass. It stuck to Sumire’s beige romper. It stuck to everything and anything like a sweltering bog. Sweat drenched her underarms as she set up her easel and foldable chair. Even at her elevated vanta...
Tina felt the bedsheet peel away from her skin as she sat up. She was covered in a sheen of sweat from head to toe. Her hair was damp and matted. Even at midnight with all the windows open and no clothing but panties, Tina could not seem to beat the heat....
His simple question rocked her; hurt bubbling to the surface and etching itself on her face. Paul was alarmed he had spoilt their growing rapport. “I’m sorry, Sara. I didn’t mean to pry. Let’s talk about something else.” “No. It’s not your fault,” Sara re...
The impact was sudden and fierce. But the fear didn’t set in until I saw the vehicle that rear-ended me rolling toward me. “I’m not ready to die,” I prayed out loud. Then I closed my eyes and let faith wash over me. When I opened my eyes again, the silver...
“Goodnight, Miss. Go safely, now.” I closed the door behind me, leaving the warm fireplace and friendly chatter behind, and stepped out into the cool night air. It had been a wonderful evening. I had only moved into the village the week before, exactly...
They say that war is hell, it is. It’s a hell I unwittingly chose. I was fifteen at the time. I lived in a little known northern town in England. Not much happened in my town. The men went to work down the mines, the women stayed at home. It was all quite...
“One day, you’re going to thank God you’ve got that speed, lad.” Those were the words of old Jack Linley to eighteen-year-old Danny Friar after the young man had run a solo one hundred metres trial on grass. While Danny, in his running gear, and spiked tr...
As Sam sat at the bench in the train station, reading his newspaper, waiting for the 6PM train, he thought about how ridiculous it felt to be sitting all alone yet wearing his face mask. He had a mind to slip it down his face which was hidden behind the p...
I'd always found it odd seeing my brother as a father. I still remembered when we were kids, running around on the playground acting a fool. And now, he had a kid. When John had asked if I wanted to come with to pick him up, I'd said yes. Any chance to se...
The water flowed swiftly beneath my feet as I looked down from the parapet. There is something utterly mesmerising about the River Thames at night. The lights of the city reflected in the fast-flowing water have a beauty all of their own. Even on a wet ni...
It was her decision to take up the university place, her choice. She knew that Covid would likely cause a second lockdown: classes would be online, campus closed, precious few fresher’s events would run. She acknowledged that student life would be differe...
It was around 10 p.m. when a lone car careened down the empty rural road, engine growling, disrupting the peace of a lonely night. Its headlights ploughed through the darkness ahead as it angrily chewed up the centre lines along the road, then spewed them...
She wakes with a startle, groggy as if hungover from some overindulging celebration. Though, it isn’t liquor that has her brain so foggy. Fumbling for her pen and pad—now kept diligently on the bedside table—she begins to scribble, no time to even compos...
