Microfiction
We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers. Top Story - May 2024.
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic2 years ago in Fiction
122 — Three Billy Goats Gruff
Once upon a time, there was a lush pasture. The only way to get to it was via a stone arch bridge over a swift stream. The owner of the pasture was fixated on preventing the goats next door from getting across because they ate everything he grew. So he found a homeless troll and offered him the job.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Coffee and You: A Tale of Brewed Romance
Alright, get ready for a story that's as cozy as your favorite coffee shop and as heartwarming as your go-to latte. We're diving into the world of "Coffee and You," where every sip is a little taste of magic and every moment is filled with warmth and love.
By Wisnu Trilung Waluyo Jati2 years ago in Fiction
Dreams of the Savannah. Content Warning.
I am hungry. The dust is familiar, a similar colour to what I've known, but there are none of the scents of the savannah. The grasses would find plenty to feed them here but they would not be given the chance to grow. They would not provide cover in which to hide, to camouflage, to aid the hunt.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Rain
Rain pelts your windows, smudging panes, making what's familiar look a masquerade. Single-minded droplets streak single file toward your soggy soil, but they'll find no answers here. Nothing's planted. What grows here was kin, and our time here has reached its end.
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Fiction





