Fable

Satellites and Violets
Gina was old now by nearly anyone’s standards. Her face was wrinkled and her joints creaked when she moved, especially first thing in the morning or when rain was on the way. The young people she passed in the streets on the way to buy bread and vegetables from the market saw someone else’s grandmother in a tattered grey cardigan and a faded, flowered skirt — a stranger they didn’t know and couldn’t relate to.
By Shannon Hilson4 months ago in Fiction
When We Found the Sky Again
The first day the sun returned to Crestfall Valley was the day Aiden met Liora. For ninety-three days, the valley had been swallowed by winter fog — a thick, silver curtain that dimmed every morning and turned every night into a blur of shadows. The people of Crestfall called it the Long Haze, the kind of phenomenon that only happened once every few decades. Crops froze, windows stayed closed, and most folks kept their heads down, counting the days until the sky reappeared.
By Zidane4 months ago in Fiction
THE STARLESS MARK
Kade Thornwild never believed in destiny. Not the kind that chose people, at least. In his experience, destiny only chose the loud, the brave, or the ones foolish enough to run toward danger instead of away from it.
By Alisher Jumayev4 months ago in Fiction
En Passant. Content Warning.
1st Edition: Originally Published on Vocal Media in 2021 2nd Edition: December 9th, 2025 - The refrigerator door hung open, expunging the cold air from the chillboxed realm of the keeper of the sustenance. Leftover rancidity wafted into flared, masculine nostrils—nostrils erupting with bushels of hair. It had been an Ocean Quahog’s age since the man had eaten anything. The light in the fridge had broken, and deluminated food had an unappetizing zeal. However, The Man knew if he had bothered to fix the problem, he would see that in the illuminated age, nothing was worth eating in the first place.
By Scott A. Vancil4 months ago in Fiction
The Nutcracker's Curse
Emma Ross had always loved antique shopping, drawn to the allure of forgotten stories hidden within old trinkets. So when she stumbled upon the estate sale of the late Dr. Caldwell, a reclusive collector, she couldn’t resist. Among the dusty furniture and faded heirlooms, a peculiar nutcracker caught her eye.
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
Saint Nicholas' Last Ride
The snow fell in ashen flakes, the sky above a perpetual gray that mirrored the despair of the world below. In the year 2147, Christmas was a relic, outlawed decades earlier by the Council of Unity. Declared a source of division and greed, the holiday and its traditions were erased from history books. But whispers of rebellion persisted—quiet murmurs of a time when people gathered, when joy and giving weren’t crimes.
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
Gift of Wrath
The holiday party was in full swing, with laughter and the hum of festive music filling the air. Emily, the office manager, had outdone herself this year. A crackling fire, garlands draped across every surface, and a massive Christmas tree glittering with golden ornaments dominated the room. In the corner, the Secret Santa table overflowed with wrapped gifts.
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
“The Cunning Fox and the Tree of Truth”
In a quiet corner of an ancient forest—where sunlight filtered softly through towering trees and the smell of damp leaves filled the air—stood a mysterious old tree. The animals called it The Tree of Truth. No one knew how old it really was, but legend said the tree had an extraordinary gift:
By hamad khan4 months ago in Fiction
The Truth Beyond Touch
The village of Noorabad lay nestled between rolling green fields and distant blue hills. It was a small place where the days moved slowly and the nights hummed with stories told under lantern light. Among the villagers lived five blind men, each known for a special quality. Though they could not see the world, the world saw them.
By hamad khan4 months ago in Fiction
The Smallest Guest
Eleanor had always been meticulous about her garden, even in late November when most sensible plants had given up for the season. She was deadheading the last stubborn chrysanthemums when she saw him—a tiny figure no bigger than her thumb, huddled beneath a yellowing hosta leaf.
By Autumn 4 months ago in Fiction
To Dust
The world ended on a Wednesday. Not with fire or thunder or a sudden vanishing—just a quiet, almost polite collapse. The sun rose pale. The air tasted metallic. And the dust, fine as ash and soft as winter breath, drifted from the horizon like a slow-moving tide.
By Alexander Mind4 months ago in Fiction
Christmas Tales ~ Merry Grinchmas!
One late night, the mean Grinch headed to Washington, D.C., determined to steal all Christmas trees, strings of lights, and decorations from homes and streets. Suddenly, he was confronted by a blinding beam of light!
By Mia Z. Edwards4 months ago in Fiction