Short Story
My true Story OsteoArthritis
The arthritis poem is true. On the 5th of March 2018, I went for a walk with my husband, to the Nine Arches in Newton-le-Willows, where I was born. On the way to the car to go home, my left leg hurt so much; we had done quite a long walk. Two days later, I couldn’t move; the pain was horrible. The doctor gave me anti-inflammatory tablets and sent me a month later for an X-ray. It was osteoarthritis; the X-ray and blood tests proved it. The tablets they gave me made me ill and made my leg swell, so top and bottom. Six years later, I can only take cocodamol or paracetamol. Oh yes, they tried tramadol; it made me pass out… nerve tablets that knocked me ill and sleepy. The doctor said there was nothing left to offer. The arthritis is now in both feet, both knees, and my arms and fingers. The cocodamol is really wicked; they make me dizzy and my legs and feet swell, but there’s nothing left the doctor said to try. So I fight it day by day to walk, as I have insomnia, osteoarthritis, and after Covid for the last four years. It gets me down; I constantly cry and moan about the pain… some of my family look at me like, “Oh my God, it’s only arthritis.” All I can say to this is try to walk a few steps in my shoes. If this is getting old, God help me and all of you out there who suffer from this too.
By George’s Girl 2026 a day ago in Fiction
It often changes around us
The dark sky was slowly making its appearance on this cool, spring night and several people were walking past the shops on Arms Street. It wasn't always called Arms Street, in fact he remembered it used to be Garden Avenue not that long ago. Then again, it was hard for him to keep up with all of these changes. He felt a vibration from his device and observed a notification prominently displaying an urgent message.
By Jeff Paitchell2 days ago in Fiction
Víðarr Óðinnson
Maybe I shouldn’t have come; most here don’t even know my name. To many, I am invisible, but to the one who has summoned me, I appear in all my fearsome splendor. Alas, woe to anyone I am summoned against, for they shall feel the sharpness of my blade before they see me.
By Mother Combs2 days ago in Fiction
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The stovetop ticked as the burner cooled, a rhythmic, cooling sound that bit into the silence of the kitchen. John didn’t move. He sat at the pine table, his fingers tracing the wood grain, waiting. He watched the steam curl toward the ceiling, a white plume turning grey in the dim morning light. Only when the heat had settled into a low, radiating warmth did his daughter, Mara, enter the room.
By Tim Carmichael2 days ago in Fiction
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Mr. Harrow collected the exams, his face a mask of indifference that barely concealed a flicker of curiosity. As you walked past his desk, Elena whispered, “Whatever happens, we did our best.” You nodded, the seriousness of the journey still heavy, but a quiet pride settled in your chest. When the results were posted, you found your name at the top of the list, a bright red “A+” staring back, while Mr. Harrow’s reaction was a barely perceptible pause—an involuntary moment of recognition that you had, against all odds, outperformed his expectations.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
Inside Rebels
You stared at the chalk‑dusted blackboard, the harsh scrape of the marker echoing the teacher’s voice as it cut through the quiet of the classroom, and you felt the weight of every syllable settling like a stone on your shoulders. It was Mr. Harrow, the man whose reputation for cruelty preceded him, and you and your partner, Elena, had already learned to keep your heads down when he entered the room. “If you cannot answer the question, you are simply unworthy of learning,” he had snarled, his eyes flicking between you as if searching for a crack in your resolve. The air grew colder, and you sensed Elena’s trembling hand brush against the edge of the desk, a subtle reminder that you were not alone in the mounting dread.
By Forest Green2 days ago in Fiction
A Pair Of Lips Will Say Anything
It’s just before 8:30 am. The new/young mom, Tamia promised Samantha and James she’d have Brailey to their house already. She made a rule for herself from the moment of her daughter’s birth: not to rush. She arrives at their home with the baby in tow. They were used to the little one. At the same time, Brailey was still getting used to the young couple. James begins a roll-call of all the things in her diaper bag. Ensuring everything was accounted for. While he is doing that Sam is keeping Bray entertained. In hopes, Mommy can sneak out the door undetected. James reassures Tamia that her precious cargo is in excellent hands. The young Mom, backs out of the driveway realizing she forgot, to leave the car seat. She sits it just inside the door, without either of them noticing.
By Jacqueline Elaine Hudson2 days ago in Fiction
