Microfiction
Trapped and Captive in Someone Else’s Bed
Trapped and captive, I was starting to regret being there. Shadows glided above my head. Dark shadows were cast against a vivid blue background by the bright sun. Evil-looking forms grabbed my attention as I gripped the ocean bed.
By Calvin London10 months ago in Fiction
✨ The Night I Sat With the Moon. AI-Generated.
It had been years since I truly sat in silence. Not the kind of silence you get from turning off your phone, or staying home on a rainy Sunday. I’m talking about the kind of silence that hums through your bones—the type that only exists far away from electricity, signal towers, and responsibilities that pile up like unpaid bills on a dusty desk.
By Rahmat Hidayat10 months ago in Fiction
The Shadow of Lost Time
Opening Scene: Salma stood at the heart of the city like a ghost from a forgotten era. Her navy-blue dress, embroidered with tiny roses, and her small hat pinned with a pearl brooch clashed starkly against the glass skyscrapers that reflected the blurred stream of horseless carriages they called “cars.” The stench of gasoline mingled with her only perfume—rosewater—churning her stomach.
By Ahmed Abdeen11 months ago in Fiction
I Love You?
It was kind of a dull Saturday night until she walked in. He was on his second PBR in a cocktail glass by then. The bartenders at Le Domain were never this free and he could see how easily they switched glasses, bottles and cans from hand to hand, often between each other as a kind of test. Almost hypnotic to see as he leaned on his stool and let his finger play games with the too-large piece of lime in his glass. After his third hit, he’d head home and call it a dud of a night. The music was some sort of trap track he could not name (getting old, aren’t we?). The lights were darker than he remembered from his first time in that bar (wearing shades was not a good idea; “I wear my sunglasses at night…” That damn song). And the drink was truly awful (why were there so many tips on that counter?). It was a dud. It was a bad night.
By Kendall Defoe 11 months ago in Fiction
The Villa Pisani Labyrinth
Lost within the new Villa Pisani labyrinth, the world's most challenging hedge maze, Anthony felt his heart racing as panic began to set in. Anthony knew there was something amiss about that drink offered to him by his hostess. He smartly tried to excuse himself to vomit the foreign substance out of his system but was ushered out in a mental haze. He was the only guest to be led to the labyrinth. Anthony couldn’t remember if he was the sole guest in this Italian mansion; the faces that prefaced this encounter became blurred and misshapen. Fight or flight had not set in yet—as if the bodily response had been deactivated. Anthony stood in front of the iron gate into the maze. The time of day, for Anthony, shifted from sunset to a completely lightless sky. The iron gate opened. On either side stood identical marble statues of a young boy wrestling an animal of some sort. Anthony couldn’t focus on the statues, his eyes briefly caught a flashlight strobing the center spiral tower with a marble statue resting on top. The tower shifted, disappeared, sank, grew to enormous heights, and then it instantaneously became a frightening dark. A voice whispered into Anthony’s left ear, instructing him to hurry through the maze, find the center, and claim the prize.
By Anthony Diaz11 months ago in Fiction
