Microfiction
Sports Bra
I should have brought my sports bra. This one is not going to support me at all. Why didn't I put it in? Too much in a rush, that's why. I shouldn't have stayed up to finish that series. I knew I'd regret it one way or another. I've got nothing to watch tonight now either. And these yoga pants? I look like a bag of rubbish tied up. I thought they were meant to allow movement? Where's my water bottle? Oh, don't tell me I left it in the car? I'm such a bozo! And now I'll be late!
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Unusual Interruption
Today, in Sunday morning church service, there was a flying squirrel that somehow flew into the church. It was flying in big circles and then it got hit by one of the fan blades. Stunned by the chop of the fan, it flopped right on top of Maudy Prinkle’s head. Maudy is prim and far too proper. She was wearing gaudy hat that was so big it could have served as an unbrella for a small heard of sheep. Although the sheep might have been too embarrassed to be under such an ugly hat.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
Keepers Of The Sacred Fire
Introduction Angela Livingstone is an amazing artist and continues to inspire me to create stories. These may end up as a self-published book if Angela allows me to share and credit her work, but that would be at least twelve months away.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
245 Spare Change
A child no older than six or seven, her legs were folded under each other unnaturally. It was obvious she had been born this way. She didn't speak. She only held out a tin cup for the tourists who were checking off another must-see on their Rome adventures.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Fiction
A Helping Hand. Content Warning.
The church basement was dim, filled with the quiet murmurs of the support group. Some shared moments of pain and guilt; others offered words of encouragement and compassion. A few, like me, remained silent. I focused not on their words, but on their "auras," sensing a mixture of exhaustion, despair, and reflection. Only Jason, the group leader, felt different—empty, with an edge of trepidation.
By M Dannenfelserabout a year ago in Fiction
The Trophy Cabinet. Content Warning.
When she found his trophy cabinet, the horror of her discovery put her in a place where she had no point of reference; a chasm where she was falling, helpless and without recourse. Her revulsion urged her to act but she was scared: how do you confront someone who you know to be a killer?
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Miranda
Miranda stretched her shoulders, aching more than usual after a long day in the orchard. The evening meal with her parents and brother and all her tíos and tías, usually a boisterous affair, had been tense and subdued. It felt like the time she had crouched in hiding from a cloud of wasps.
By Sonia Heidi Unruhabout a year ago in Fiction
The Green Door
The girl has found a green door in a wall covered in ivy. She thought it was a way to enter a secret garden, but she was surprised when she found the key and entered a room. She cautiously entered the room and slowly looked around. She wondered who could have lived here, and as she continued to look around, but not being noisy the girl saw that it did have a few dust-covered pieces of furniture and a few cobwebs hanging around nut it was kind of taken care of by someone.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
