Microfiction
Mum. Content Warning.
I don't know where I am. Smoke rises around me. I'm strapped, seated but I'm in the open air. Blue sky. I can hear crackling, something's burning. And birds. There's an oval window next to me and a torn wall. I am dazed. Perhaps those birds are the ones you see in cartoons around heads when someone's been hit?
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Alpha, Romeo
"Please, you've got to help me. You've got to run." The stink of him was easier to tolerate on two legs. Human noses are weak. The sense was already fading. Scrunched in this awkward position, in the cramped dog crate for several hours, my only thought was getting free.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Robin
Greed ran rampant. So many people strived to make it, not caring who they stepped over to get there. Of course, that was nothing new. History is littered with the Haves using the have-nots. Sprinkled in were those like Lennon, Gandhi, Lupin, or Robin Hood, who tried to bring balance.
By Jarrett Smithabout a year ago in Fiction
251 Boots on the Ground
His boots trudged over grains of sand which began as boulders—monoliths of strength and bravado—each a memorial obelisk to some victory to come, envisioned by the ones who conscripted the marchers and fitted them into their boots. These memorials were meant to outlast the memories of soldiers and politicians, despots and leaders, wolves and sheep. Yet, memorials stand impermanently, worn down by the endless boots on the ground.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Fiction
Morality
It was freezing inside that church. Little Jane’s thin coat barely added any warmth to her tiny body. Her shoes had worn so thin that water seeped in when she stepped on the wet ground outside, soaking her wool tights and making her feet cold and wet. She couldn’t feel her toes.
By Kayleigh Fraser ✨about a year ago in Fiction
Tour Bus. Content Warning.
"And so, you'll notice on your right, Loch Nagar where the two clans of the McKenzies and the McDougalls fought a bloody battle on its shores in the 1300s. No monsters though! It's rumoured certain times of the year you can hear the battle...holy shit! What the fuck is that? It's like a giant wave! Is that water? Pete, what is that? Shit! It's going to hit us! Fuck! What can we do? Okay, those of you on the top deck, I don't want you to panic but you need to move. Now! And people here, close the windows! NOW!"
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Flowers Died Today. Content Warning.
Part One The garden was beautiful that day - vivid, uplifting colors decorating the path to my parents' workshop. I always loved the intertwined scent of my mother's bouquets and my father's rustic furniture that would hit me even before I opened the doors.
By Alexandria Stanwyckabout a year ago in Fiction
