Microfiction
The Almanac's Whisper
For generations, the Thornfield Farm yield was the envy of the valley. Their secret wasn’t just skill; it was the Almanac. It wasn’t the mass-produced kind. This was a thick, leather-bound tome, handwritten by every Thornfield heir since 1782. Its predictions were uncanny: “Plant after the oak leaf unfurls, but before the swallow returns,” or “A hard rain will come on the second day when the wind smells of wet stone.” It spoke not in dates, but in signs. It was magic, plain and simple.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Horse of the Rising Dawn
The first rays of the rising dawn stretched across the quiet valley as Arman tightened the saddle on his young but spirited mare, Zaria. She was a snow-white beauty with sharp, intelligent eyes that reflected both innocence and strength. Arman had raised her since she was a foal, and in those years, she had become more than just a horse—she was his companion, his pride, and the heartbeat of his every journey.
By darus sahil2 months ago in Fiction
Mama's Magic Whisper. Content Warning.
If you see The Champ in public, you will see him smiling, waving, signing autographs. Yet his pain is always with him. His ability to disguise his pain was a discipline he had been crafting since an early age, and over time it was welded and wrought to near perfection.
By John R. Godwin2 months ago in Fiction
Shut It Down
The lookalike glanced up from its tablet as Elon walked in. “Good news,” the lookalike said, “I think we can get humankind on the side of AI and Optimus robots if we keep pushing jobs becoming ‘optional.’ And they loved that roasting people at a party bit.”
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 months ago in Fiction
The Room That Appears to Only One Person
If you believe, dear human, that your life is nothing more than daily routines—waking up early in the morning, going to work, spending pleasant time with friends, discussing household management with your spouse, taking care of your children and searching for the best ways to lead them toward happiness and success, then going to bed as a just person who wrongs no one and feels satisfied that he is successful—if you believe that all these beautiful habits are what every ambitious person strives for in order to live in a way that contributes to the success of any society… is that really enough? Is life limited to these daily routines until death? Of course not. And you must discover another world, no less important than your current
By ahmed mahmoud2 months ago in Fiction
A Day without my phone
Yawning, I stirred sleepily in bed, reaching for the edge of my bedside table to grab my phone. The time read 7 a.m. on the dot. I had an uneasy feeling that something was amiss, but I just couldn't figure out what. It took one rub of my eyes and a quick glance at my phone's screen to know what was wrong—ugh, my battery percentage. It showed a glowing 2%, or was it just my mind making my doom shine like the sun?
By Gift Abotsi 2 months ago in Fiction
