Every story here is fiction, written for laughs. Names, people, and events are made up. Nothing on this site is news or reporting.
A man in a small town in Iowa has, for the past six years, been quietly repainting his elderly widowed neighbor's mailbox every April — matching the specific shade of blue her late husband picked in…
A woman in Ann Arbor has, for the past nine years, been quietly writing weekly letters to the specific version of her mother that her mother's dementia has taken. Her mother is still alive. She has…
Two women in Tucson met three years ago when they both reached for the same book at the same moment at the public library. They are 68 and 74. Since that afternoon, they have not missed…
One invented story. One observation. Three minutes of fiction, delivered before your first meeting goes off the rails. Everything in it is made up — that's the whole point.
// Figures are illustrative, not audited.
Good morning. It's a Tuesday, which means somewhere out there, a person is right now justifying a purchase they cannot afford with a logic they cannot defend.
This morning's offender: a project manager in Austin who put twelve weeks of therapy on his corporate card under "leadership coaching." Finance approved it. His therapist had no idea.
Today's lesson in the great American workplace: the line between a perk and a heist is mostly just confidence...
Heavyweight 14oz fleece. Embroidered chest. The word people already say when they look at their bank statement. Available in espresso, bone, and somehow-still-here black.
Anonymous. Fictionalised by us, then featured — names changed, details invented, the feeling kept intact. Thousands of other people will read it and feel slightly less alone about whatever just happened to you.
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