Microfiction

Winter Series 2025 - Snow Does Not Fall the Same Way Twice (Part III)
Snow looks identical until you stay long enough to watch it fall. From a distance, winter appears repetitive - the same cold, the same gray skies, the same quiet streets. But snow, like memory, reveals its truth only to those willing to slow down. Each flake carries a distinct geometry. Each winter arrives believing it is both the first and the last of its kind.
By José Juan Gutierrez about a month ago in Fiction
Winter Series 2025 - The Longest Night We Shared (Part I)
Winter does not arrive loudly. It enters quietly, slipping between conversations, dimming the edges of the world, asking us to slow down even when we resist. The longest night of the year - Solstice - is not only an astronomical event - it is an emotional threshold. A moment when darkness lingers long enough to make us listen.
By José Juan Gutierrez about a month ago in Fiction
The day I'll never forget
The day my uncle gave me the bike is a day I will never forget. When I first got the bike, I knew it belonged to my uncle. After my uncle got the bike, he gave it to my cousin, who then gave it to me. I had not been given any official instructions telling me that the bike was mine. I was very careful with the bike just like I would take care of something that I actually owned.
By BHUMIabout a month ago in Fiction
New Moon - New Hope
The New Moon arrived without ceremony. No flares. No warnings. No headlines announcing catastrophe. It simply happened - the Moon aligned perfectly between Earth and the Sun, and for the first time in recorded history, the darkness felt intentional.
By José Juan Gutierrez about a month ago in Fiction
Memories
The memories reached out and pulled her in like drags against the statues in the courtyard, along with the day’s fading sunlight. Every evening, those memories were wrapped around jasmine vines with the light wrapping around her open heart.
By BHUMIabout a month ago in Fiction
Akatsuki Members as War Justifications
The beauty of anime is really in the details, to some it might just seem as cartoons but for the open minds, there is so much hidden in the details. Here is an interesting twist in the popular anime Naruto you might have missed, for those who might not know the Akatsuki were the main villain group the heroes were fighting against and throughout the series they had to take them down one after the other. The writer of this show didn’t just create a villain group made up of thugs out for violence, he put much more thought into their character than you might have realized.
By real Jemaabout a month ago in Fiction
The Line Before Silence
At 11:47 p.m., the phone rang as I was pouring the last mouthful of cold tea into the sink. The ring was brief and restrained, like two light knocks at the door, followed by a careful step back.
By lin yanabout a month ago in Fiction
Another Christmas Carol story
Last week I wrote and published a Christmas carol story on the religious Christmas carols. Now I am going to try the same idea on the fun Christmas carols.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
An ordinary day. Top Story - December 2025.
Nikitas was met with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and dampness when he awoke. He stood at the window for a time, looking through the window at what was happening outside, but not necessarily paying attention to it. He could see the apartment buildings across the street again, as he had done many times before, and he would see them many times in the future.
By BHUMIabout a month ago in Fiction
When One Flame Spreads
A single spark can light a thousand hearts. 🕯 In a silent corner of a snow-caked street was a lone candle -sentient, it seemed to have a watchful eye.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Linabout a month ago in Fiction
The Gospel of Gumption
The assignment from her editor was a footnote, a punishment for having annoyed a major advertiser. “Go to Gumption, Vermont,” the email read. “Cover their ‘Fall Furnival.’ Yes, with a ‘U.’ File 500 words on the quirky local color. Try not to poison the well.”
By Habibullahabout a month ago in Fiction
Roots and branches
My roots formed in uncelebrated places — In kitchens heavy with silence, In prayers said without witnesses, In hands that learned endurance Before they ever learned rest. They grew quietly, gripping soil That knew both hunger and hope, Teaching me early that survival Is a kind of wisdom.
By Awa Nyassiabout a month ago in Fiction