Microfiction
Can't Beat the House
Lucía liked the Marcel-Wilsons. They treated her like family. Mostly. Lily and Max were good kids. The children had an enormous playroom with all manner of toys and games. The coolest thing, in her opinion was the House. She couldn't understand why the kids didn't play with it more.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lord of the Flies as a Young Man
Bartleby Lawrence Zebub, age 10, was gobsmacked by the audacious, infantile ignorance of the science fair organizers. As the small-minded, weak-willed, mouth-breathing, ignoramus judges passed out top prizes to three baking soda-powered volcanos, Bart gripped his participation certificate tightly enough to send creases shooting through the paper. Full of rage, he boggled at the lack of foresight among the so-called adults, whose disregard of his groundbreaking work evidenced an inability to recognize genius even as it towered over the brainless efforts of blathering children. He found comfort by telling himself that their acknowledgment and accolades amounted to little more than the hooting and clapping of chimpanzees.
By J. Otis Haasabout a year ago in Fiction
Origin Of A Teenage Space Bandit
The entire station seemed to have fallen into chaos, in contrast to its normally strict regimen. Alarms were blaring, crew members were scrambling, and Cece was being dragged by her mother down the long, metallic corridors as fast as her legs could carry her.
By Kelsey Clareyabout a year ago in Fiction
