Microfiction
"Three Comrades" by Erich Maria Remarque
A student answers a literature exam question: Erich, Maria, and Remarque are legendary co-authors who made a tremendous contribution to the world literature. Their novel "Three Comrades" is an autobiographical work that tells us about how this brilliant creative triumvirate came to be. Historians claim that both Erich and Remarque were simultaneously deeply in love with Maria. Thus, in addition to their collaborative writing, the authors were involved in a love triangle. Perhaps it is precisely because of their personal entanglement that the works of Remarque, Erich, and Maria are filled with profound insights into human nature and life wisdom.
By Lana V Lynxabout a year ago in Fiction
The Gossip
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. What was left of it at least. Could I even call it a river, it looks not much more than a creek within a canyon carved from the monstrous force it once was. But enough of that, that was the bi product of what had been. Dry season after dry season, water becoming sparse, food running low, and tempers high within the walls of the city, let alone the villages about it. The people, they blame her, the queen that is. They say it is her fault the gods have not blessed us with rain, that they do not fill our rivers and lakes, that they do not water our lands and our crops. Maybe they are right... if you believe such things that is.
By Kyle Williamabout a year ago in Fiction
318 A Winter's Tale: White-Out—All Colors, Altogether, All At Once
He'd never put much stock in the legends—how when a blizzard created a total white-out, demons would slip out of the frozen æther to do their evil work. It wasn't the storm that kills, the stories went, but the monsters within them.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Fiction
"I'm Claustrophobic!"
A man answers the doorbell in his high-rise building apartment and sees his beautiful neighbor, clearly distressed. "I locked myself out!" she says, "I was taking the trash out and forgot to take the keys. My dog and cat are inside. They must be freaking out!"
By Lana V Lynxabout a year ago in Fiction
Wasting Time
There was something off about the girl. He couldn't decide her age. Her spine was ramrod straight, despite her armful of enormous books. When she stepped into the light, she stayed under the eves of the building, to keep the books out of the hissing rain. In her arms, they looked like weapons. He stepped back. She watched, blonde and unsmiling. Was it her cold eyes, sweeping up and down, with a judgemental edge? Or was it her strange clothes? Pink gingham pinnifore and black ribbons.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
317 A Winter's Tale: Winter Snowmelt — Sublimation
Ice becomes water vapor instantly in a process called sublimation. It seldom happens with snow on the ground, which first melts into liquid. And the distinction between sublimation and the sublime is a linguistic side trip that has lost its connection.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Fiction
