Microfiction

1987: The Old Town - A Genuine Harrowing Tale in India
In the core of the country India, settled among the influencing fields of wheat and sugarcane, lies the failed-to-remember town of Kailashpur. Covered in a quality of secret and premonition, this old settlement has for quite some time been supposed to hold onto dull mysteries and supernatural peculiarities. The year 1987 denoted a chilling part in the town's set of experiences, as a progression of strange situations transpired, diving Kailashpur into a bad dream from which it would battle to stir. This is the spine-shivering story of the genuine harrowing tale that unfurled in Kailashpur in the pivotal year of 1987.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
The Cryptic House Cleaner: Phantom or Man?
In the curious town of Willowbrook, settled while moving slopes and rich vegetation, there stood a fabulous manor covered in secret. Tales whirled among the residents about the cryptic figure who stayed inside its walls - a servant whose presence appeared to oppose clarification. Some murmured that she was a phantom, sentenced to meander the corridors forever, while others guaranteed she was simply an isolated loner, favoring the isolation of the house to the organization of others. This is the bewildering story of the house cleaner of Willowbrook Estate and the mission to reveal the reality behind her character.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
Chinna Kuthuru Shocking Tales
In the core of the country, India lies a failed-to-remember town by the name of Chinna Kuthuru. Concealed amid thick woods and fog-covered slopes, it harbors a mystery that has been murmured regarding for ages. Stories of ghastliness and the powerful have tormented the locals for quite a long time, passed down starting with one age and then onto the next like a dim legacy. In any case, as time walks on and advancement infringes upon antiquated customs, the narratives of Chinna Kuthuru risk blurring into a lack of definition, lost to the steady walk of progress. This is a brief look into the creepy fables and spine-chilling legends that have kept the residents of Chinna Kuthuru conscious around evening time, shuddering out of dread and anxiety toward the unexplored world.
By Ashok2 years ago in Fiction
The Snow Angel
"It's a pattern that you make in the snow when you lie down. You move your arms and your legs like you're doing a Jumping Jack and when you get up the shape of an angel is in the snow."
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Snowy Commute. Top Story - February 2024.
Wrapping my plaid scarf around my face, I head out my front door. It’s early, the overcast sky adding to the darkness of the winter morning.
By Heather Zieffle 2 years ago in Fiction
Lessons From the Yeti
The dream starts the same as all my others have; I am searching for something. As I gaze into the mass of trees, I am filled with confidence, with the assurance that what I am looking for is hidden behind this green curtain. With my head down, careful of the intricate roots, I do not notice how the scenery changes until I see my breath suspended in the air. When I look up, I see snow covered ground, trees with sparkling highlights, and delicate flakes who fall only to get caught in my hair. I hear branches snapping and before me emerges a giant shape, seven foot tall with a curious face.
By Eve2 years ago in Fiction
Adrift
Soft snow crunching under my bare feet. A cold wind encasing my naked body and whipping my hair about my head. Another step, and my bones become numb. The tingling raking through from head to toe making it hard to breathe. Was I breathing, or was it simply the idea of it? I was not aware to the feeling, if my chest was heaving at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Another step, and I’m taking in the trees around me. Barren except for the heavy snow that coated the bare dead branches. The blizzard swelled around them and hid their tops from view; the shapes of their canopy drawing into a blur of darkness. Ahead of me is a vast expanse of white wilderness and a shadow, shorter than the rest. It protrudes from the vast expanse of snow with two limbs stretched out like someone waiting for an embrace. The arms waved and I felt a pull towards them. They seemed welcoming. They seemed familiar. Another step, and I made out the distinction in their body. The slimness of their neck, the faint whipping of hair, the separation in their legs as they stood there trying to steady themselves. Their features were still too dark to make out. A step, and I could make out the shape of their head. Another showed me the blue of their eyes. Step, and I could reach out to touch them, before falling into the cold, snowy darkness.
By Gunnar Anderson2 years ago in Fiction
Drifts
“How many miles over the last fifty years of winters do you think I’ve shoveled, Emily?” JD watched as flakes fell. “You asking me just to count the snow or everything else that has come out of your mouth?”
By Glenn Brown2 years ago in Fiction
A Pervert on the Porch
"Pervert!" Granny B declared, when a large man appeared damp, naked, and shriveled on her front porch. He tried to shove past her into the house, but she slammed the door literally in his face. Granny B shut the blinds with a definitive clunk for good measure.
By TK Cummings2 years ago in Fiction
OF SNOW AND LATTES
"Hot chai latte." "The fuck you say?" Reed, his snow powdered face a mask of confusion, looks at Childress. "Hot chai latte," Childress repeats as if that alone will clarify his statement. "I think I might just get one of those if we get out of this completely fucked situation."
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
Unexpected stop
The pirate ship slowly cut through the icy waters, the ice was several feet thick, and the ram they used to cut through the ice had cracked and calling it useless would have been an upswing.
By Timothy E Jones2 years ago in Fiction
Spunky's First Snow. Top Story - February 2024.
Spunky peeked out of her brightly painted little barn in the green countryside, in wonder and fascination. Gingerly, she extended her soft, pink nose to sniff the fluffy, white blanket that had covered everything during the night. Her little nostrils filled with the cold, wet stuff and she sneezed, shaking her head and kicking up her heels. “Whatever could this be?” she said, aloud.
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Fiction