Microfiction

The Month of June
Tomorrow is the start of the month of June, and the start of what will soon begin as one of the hottest months temperature wise and who knows even rainfall if certain weather forecasters are right.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
The black door to my living room
When I first moved into the old house on Ferelith Lane, I didn’t notice anything strange. It was a quiet, crooked little home, settled among yellowed trees that whispered more than rustled. The realtor had spoken too quickly and never looked me in the eyes. I assumed the price was low because of the location or the cracked foundation or the way the walls occasionally wept cold from unseen pores.
By E. hasan9 months ago in Fiction
Mind Zero
In the neon-black night of New Avalon, no one was truly alone. The Grid made sure of it. Thoughts streamed, schedules aligned, even dreams were synchronized across nodes. Every mind—tagged, tracked, tidied.
By F. M. Rayaan9 months ago in Fiction
"The Whispering Oak"
An ancient oak stands hollowed by time but steadfast in its posture in the middle of a ruined field. Lichen grows like velvet across its bark. A moth sleeps inside, its centuries-long dreams flecked with dust on its wings. Mice build their homes in the roots, weaving stories and dry leaves for warmth. Dandelion seeds float past like pale ghosts. The wind hums a hymn no human knows the words to anymore.
By AlaTrend9 months ago in Fiction
Glasvegas
To get lost in this black and white city under Van Gogh's spiral skies is an adventure like no other. What will we find in these dark streets? Will it be love or salvation, or a hooded mysterious creature with too many eyes and a hook for a hand?
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 months ago in Fiction
The Light That Wouldn’t Die
My dearest Elin, (or whatever name they now allow you in the afterlight), Forgive my ink — it trembles as if it, too, remembers the night the sea roared like a widow and the flame began to sputter.
By Carolina Borges9 months ago in Fiction
Option B
They told us the rule was ancient. That when we turned eighteen, the Machine would present us with three doors. And we would choose. Warrior. Seer. Healer.
By F. M. Rayaan9 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of Maybe
There is a girl who sees too much. Not in the way oracles usually do—those proud-eyed prophets who stand tall on mountaintops, declaring the future like thunder. No, Syla’s curse is quieter. More suffocating.
By F. M. Rayaan9 months ago in Fiction
THE RED UMRELLA
It was raining the day she left. Not with thunder or storms-just a soft, endless drizzle that soaked the city in silence. She handed me the red umbrella, the one she always carried and I secretly loved.
By New growth9 months ago in Fiction
The Arctic Vault
The wind screamed across the barren wasteland of ice and rock as Ethan Kade stepped off the transport plane, boots sinking into permafrost. The pilot gave him a tight nod, then took off again without a word. No one wanted to linger near the Arctic Vault—not anymore.
By Esther Sun9 months ago in Fiction
Pilgrim’s Price
She came with dust on her boots and a prayer on her lips. The town was too quiet. Shops still had fruit in their baskets—wrinkled, dry. Horses stood frozen like statues. Children curled on porches as if caught mid-laughter. But no one breathed. No one blinked.
By F. M. Rayaan9 months ago in Fiction
Unfollowed: The Fall of Ava Rose
Ava Rose had it all—millions of followers, brand deals with the biggest names in fashion and skincare, and a beachfront apartment that made her the envy of every influencer under 30. Her fans adored her for her relatability, style, and candid "no-filter" attitude. But on a sunny Thursday morning, all of that came crashing down in a 38-second video that spread faster than wildfire.
By ABDU LLAH9 months ago in Fiction