Microfiction

The Eschatology of Heaven and Heaven and Hell
It didn't matter that one had killed the other. Or why. Or that the killer died at the hands of his dying victim. All that mattered is that they found themselves at bustop. This confused them, for they knew they were dead. A bus pulled up, which read, "Pearly Gates."
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Frost Bitten
The air outside was freezing. This was the third morning pressed against the window watching the skiers. I was a sprint away from the safety of the toilet. The chalet was a place of convalescence. I bent to put my shoes on and again felt a familiar gurgling inside. Dressed in my thermals I swore loudly. Not again, why now?
By Karolina P2 years ago in Fiction
Bare Living
Prompt number thirty-eight: I actually wrote this based on another picture prompt but I'm going to use that for a different story now. This one sprang out and so, I've given it a new picture to match its content.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
A Date To Remember
I was brought in to America from Africa in chains and sold in Spain six months later to work in a sugarcane farm. Life had been very difficult, stressed and painful working as a slave. I cried every night before I went to bed. But I thanked God that the Spaniards allowed us to go to Church and since I worshipped spirits from where I came from, it was easy for me to connect to God and I became a Christian. I never stopped praying after I found my new faith in Christ and I had already learnt some common basic words in Spanish language by New Year. While the whole nation was celebrating, I was weeping and praying in broken Spanish language to God.
By Emos Sibu Poriei (Kaya)2 years ago in Fiction
Skid
Melanie can't tell what's worse: the storm, or the thin-ice tensity between herself and Dan. For long miles, the only sound in the beat-up Subaru has been the crunch of its worn treads over snow furrows. She minds those frozen lines. They're her only lane guides. They're a promise from a traveler who made it through.
By Suze Kay2 years ago in Fiction
The Narrow Escape
Sparkling in the afternoon light, the brittle snow crackled and snapped as I walked through the little wood behind the hunting cabin. Crouching when I reached the edge of a white covered field, I scanned its dimpled surface in hopes that the trail I followed would lead to an opportunity to try out my new rifle.
By John Cox2 years ago in Fiction
The Handicap
It was a burning sensation on my ear that roused me before I could suffocate, or be swallowed by flames. The blurry sliver revealed by my eyelids was obscured by the smoke-sting at first. I blinked, squinted, rubbed my eyes with my one good arm.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Lost and Found
Dear Journal, It has been many clicks of the light switch. So many, that I have lost count. The switching of the big light is how I know that a day has passed: the light will switch on, and the shuffle of feet, both with shoes on and shoes off, begins. This "dance", I call it, lasts for some time. I see the feet. I can hear the footsteps. I can also hear the television being turned on. I hear the door open and close. I almost can't remember the feel of the wind all around me. How I miss it so much. The is switched off. I no longer see the feet with or without shoes shuffling around. The sound of those very feet shuffling gets further and further away until I can no longer hear it. The television has now been turned off. The room is empty. The room is quiet. The day has come to an end. It has to have been months gone by since I have ended up here. I remember it like it was just yesterday: It was Shelly's birthday. John had surprised her with reservations at the La Che'. La Che' is the fanciest restaurant in town. You have to make a reservation a whole month in advance. John tried really hard. He loves Shelly so much. He planned everything down to the last detail. That's where I came in, since I am a 24 Karat gold and 1.5 karat diamond pendant. I have been in the family for many years. I was passed down 3 generations so far. Shelly is pregnant right now. If the baby is a girl, I will (if I am ever found, that is) go to her on her 16th birthday. Sandra's mom bought me in 1900 as a gift for Marlena's sweet 16. Marlena gifted me to Mildred when she turned 16, then Mildred gave me to Shelly and now I sit under the couch. "ACHOO!" The dust is building up. I kick myself for forgetting how many light switches there are left before dusting day. I pray often that the day comes soon. Anyway, Shelly and John go to dinner as planned. It all was very nice. John even had the pianist play Shelly's favorite song and say "happy birthday" to her. Shelly cried. I did too honestly. John has always been an absolute sweetheart. After dinner, we get in the car and go home. Everything is normal. Shelly and John go into the house. They decide to sit down on the couch for a bit and have a glass of wine. That's when it happened: the clasp on the chain Shelly put me on, broke! The lifeless chain and I fell to the floor with barely an audible thud. That one glass of wine became almost 4. John and Shelly are now intoxicated it seems. They head to their bedroom. I assumed they passed out because I didn't hear any noise or movement for quite some time. I didn't panic because I had landed in plain sight on the floor. I figured it was just a matter of time before one of them picked me up. I was wrong. The sweeping robot was left on overnight. Thank goodness it couldn't suck me up. As fate would have it, it pushed me under the couch and out of sight. That is where I was then, and where I still am today. I heard Shelly asking about me. She reached under the here more than once. Sadly, she did not reach far enough. I was quite literally at her fingertips. What is it that people say? "So close, yet so far away." I know it's something like that. Another switching off of the light. Another day lost in the space under the couch has come to an end. Something will happen. Shelly or John will find me soon. They simply MUST! Well, until next time my dear journal. I will end my entry here...
By Latoya Giles 2 years ago in Fiction
Unicorn and the Village
With-in the brightness of her horn lay the power to lay mankind to waste or rise them from the depths of despair. She chooses death.
By JBaz2 years ago in Fiction
A Perfect Day for Skiing
The crisp slopes were perfect. It was gently laid the night before with anticipation of today. My skis were ready as I entered the ideal day for the slopes. The cold was refreshing. Skiing was my favorite pastime, and I had finally taken my time off work. I woke up early for the empty slopes, yet the brisk air was calling me. I rode up the lift with the site of the snow-covered trees. The breeze was freezing but perfect for the day. I arrived at the top, and the slope was untouched. My skies have been waxed and ready. The smooth snow with no tracks as I came upon the hill. The sky was perfect, and I headed down the mountain. The speed calmed my heart to be alone on the slopes. The trees gave the hill the lines, and I cannot stop this great sport. This was one of the most advanced slopes. I was going my way till my skin became loose. Stopping became more difficult as I headed toward the trees. Snow was flying every day as my life flashed before my eyes. The snow suddenly gave way, and I was surrounded by snow. I finally realized I was in a pile of snow off the slope. My body was sore, and my head was throbbing. It was such a perfect day, and now I might just die in this hole. Suddenly, the snow started making a noise and moving. Is this a rescue or doom?
By Sarah Danaher2 years ago in Fiction
The Stalker
I watch you. I observe you from afar but you don't notice me. I inch closer and closer. I want what you have. Badly.
By M. Lee2 years ago in Fiction
Stars in My Eyes
“Do you have to tinkle?” I smiled, then choked back a chortle when I caught the flinty Scorpio gaze lasering me back into place – you know, the place where no laughter is allowed at the expense of the narc.
By KJ Aartila2 years ago in Fiction