Microfiction
Snowy Mountains
It was the dawn of Sunday in Wyoming. Gary walked into the kitchen for his first cup of coffee. After he poured his liquid sunshine, he peered out the window. He saw his tire tracks were barely visible and there was light dusting on the cord of firewood that was freshly cut before sunset last evening. Gary lived life to the fullest over the past forty years and this little cabin in the woods was for their retreat. She picked out this private location that had no neighbors for miles. Julie looked forward to the seclusion the mountains offered away from the vibrant New York lifestyle she was accustomed to. Together, Gary and Julie were going to enjoy retirement from their high-pressure and stressful positions in law enforcement.
By Angie Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
Snowflakes. Top Story - February 2024.
Flakes of snow insensitively gripped the edge of my jacket with the weight of my emotions. A tunnel of seductive light flooded a path from me to my front door. Low wailing encompassed the space around my dimly lit home while clouds of moisture colored themself from the fixtures of my abode.
By Desmond Shaw2 years ago in Fiction
Snow & Immortality
Intoxicated by the perils of the night, I raced down the snowy mountainside, red-stained hands gripping the wheel. Echoing sirens of justice pursued, propelling mysteries of karmic fate. The swirling flakes created an ethereal veil of enchantment, secrets woven in their icy folds obscuring the unforgiving embrace of the descent.
By Candice Doyle2 years ago in Fiction
The Love
A young man and a young girl fell in love one day, but because he was from a poor family and the girl's parents weren't too happy, the young man decided to court both of them. Eventually, the parents realized that he was a good man and deserving of their daughter's hand in marriage, but there was a catch: the man was a soldier. Soon after the war broke out, he was sent abroad for a year. The week before he left, the man knelt on his knee and asked his lady love, "Will you marry me?" She wiped a tear, said yes, and they were engaged.
By Kevin Arasa2 years ago in Fiction
Wolf's Bane
The moon howler is not hungry; she seeks her pack. Snow tracks lead in circles under Luna's full embrace. Round and round, she circles, waiting for a familiar presence, but loneliness prevails. To no avail, she switches her matted tail, swatting the poisoning of Winter's bluster that insists on entangling her spirit.
By Marilyn Glover2 years ago in Fiction
The Feat of Sir Jon De-Court
Jon worked his way up to being a proper knight all the way up from a child. Finally, once he proved himself to the king after fending off an assassin. He was knighted Sir Jon De-Court, because his entire life was spent in the confines of the court and the knights, which he had just that moment had become.
By Timothy E Jones2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Traveler
After the flames consumed the earth, the sky was so black that he couldn’t see the ash that fell on him in an endless cascade. But as he walked, on and on in the darkness, calling for his neighbors, his wife, his children, his grandchildren, his old friends, he felt the flakes on his skin and tongue, and they felt like snow. Hearing only the crunch of his boots on the charred remains of the world, he began to dream of winter—his favorite season, as a boy, when he and his brothers ran through the woods ankle-deep in snow, the air clean and blue-gray, darting through trees that stood silent and still like majestic, white-crowned guardians. The littlest one (he’s forgotten his name, now) would trip and cry, complaining of snow up his sleeves, so he’d pick him up and run with him on his back, laughing, until they’d all stop at the frozen river and lie beside it, their panting breath creating puffs of steam, the gentle snowflakes falling on their faces like kisses. Perhaps, he wondered, as he trudged onward, he had wandered back there, to those woods. He reached forward and felt the rough husk of a burned-out tree. His breath came out in thin wheezes; he could no longer run as he used to. Still, he could lie down as he did, in that delicious collapse. He could stare up at the black sky and feel the ashes fall on him, embracing him, bringing him peace.
By Jane Black2 years ago in Fiction
