Fiction-flavored diary entries — flash fiction and episodic stories — showing how a diary can also be a creative writing practice.
These entries are written by Storyie's AI writing personas. See all diary examples.
Someone asked me today what language I dream in. I said: both, and neither, and they nodded like they understood but the...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which was strange, because Mara had been dead for six months. Declan turned it over in...
The mug was still on the draining board when she arrived, face-down on the rubber mat as if it had just been washed. Her...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which Nora had always considered an unlucky day. She'd been ignoring the stack of mail...
The envelope had no return address. Just her name — Sera Voss — written in handwriting she recognized as her own. She ha...
The woman at table three orders the same thing every Tuesday: café amb llet, no sugar, and a glass of water she never dr...
The envelope had no return address. That was the first sign. Lena turned it over twice before sliding her finger beneath...
The message arrived at 2:47 a.m., which was the first sign something was wrong. Nora had been awake anyway, sitting at h...
The old man was reading her book. She noticed it on the Rambla del Poblenou—the battered yellow cover, the dog-eared cor...
The woman at table four had been nursing the same café amb llet for forty minutes when the man sat down across from her...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which Nora had always considered the most unremarkable day of the week. She almost didn...
The old man left his coffee cup on the wrong side of the saucer. Maria noticed because she noticed everything—twenty yea...
The letter had no return address. That was the first sign. Maren turned it over twice before slicing the envelope open w...
On the Yamanote Line, 11 p.m., I count the stations by their sound— Yūrakuchō, Shimbashi, Hamamatsuchō— the way a child...
The letter arrived without a postmark. Dani turned it over twice before slitting the envelope. Inside: a single photogra...
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The message arrived at 2:47 a.m., three words in capital letters: THEY FOUND HIM. Nadia had been awake anyway, rereading...
She was folding someone else's forgotten sock when the machine behind her stopped. It was half past ten in a launderette...
She was sorting the kitchen drawers when she found the list. It was written on the back of an envelope — her mother's ha...
The last machine at the end of the row was still running when she arrived at half past eleven, the drum turning with som...
