Microfiction

Minds Unveiled
In the fascinating realm where science fiction meets scientific reality, mind reading takes on a new guise – thought identification. It's a concept grounded in the convergence of neuroimaging and machine learning, a frontier that transcends the boundaries of traditional cognition. As we embark on this intellectual voyage, the University of Oregon emerges as a crucible for exploration, where Dr. Brice Kuhl, a luminary neuroscientist, spearheads research into deciphering thoughts without verbal articulation.
By Med Karim2 years ago in Fiction
Send in the Clones!
I cloned myself to pay off my debts. That's a thing now. DNA's property. I own the patent, trademark, and registration certificates. To make a me, I must grant permission. And absolutely mandatory is a "non-compete clause" — you can't have your clone cloning himself to pay off his debt (viz., your debt and his).
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Highway to - Well, You Know. Content Warning.
Frank's eyelids were as heavy as his foot on the throttle, but he didn't dare slow down. The hypnotic effect of the snow streaking from the darkness into the twin beams of his lights was taking its toll.
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Fiction
Two Runs too Many
Okay, safety first people! Take no more than two runs before returning to the Chalet. I don't want any frost bite on my watch!
By John Cox2 years ago in Fiction
Ghost Writer
[Written for the Secret Writer Challenge, hosted by Real Poetic.] ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
By Randy Baker2 years ago in Fiction
Day of the Dozen. Content Warning.
The crowd at the base of the steep slope had grown to epic proportions. In the bright afternoon sun, the glare from the smooth, hard-packed surface was blinding.
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Fiction
Forbidden Fruit
This short fiction follows Marcus, a secret reader and writer enslaved on an American plantation in the 1800s. Despite the dangers, Marcus pursues literacy, finding solace and strength in words as he dreams of freedom.
By Anna 2 years ago in Fiction
Snow Angel . Top Story - February 2024.
I feel the tears on your face bleeding into my heart as you stare out the back window of our house and I know you’re thinking of me. The bittersweet memories this snow covered landscape brings so clearly to your soul are also etched into mine. Can you feel me, Papa, like I can feel you? Can you see me like I can see you? I’m right here, Papa, standing in the snow, under the old apple tree waiting for you.
By Gerald Holmes2 years ago in Fiction
Pristine
My clothing drips with perspiration as the sweat pours from my body. To look at me, you would think I was trudging through the desert instead of plodding through a foot of fresh snow in sub-zero weather. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure it’s echoing throughout the valley, making it easier for the beasts to find me. I’ve never thought of myself as prey, but now I know how a deer feels.
By Mark Gagnon2 years ago in Fiction
Snow
Snow You Are Always Moaning. It's Always Snow. You are late, You blame Snow. Something doesn't work properly It's because of Snow Snow is always to blame. It's never your fault. Snow is your permanent excuse. Living here and working where you do, you can always blame Snow, whatever the problem turns out to be. And you always do, don't you? When have you ever taken responsibility for anything? You always have something to blame. It's never your fault, and the default culprit is usually Snow. It's not like you have to do anything difficult at all. You don't have to get up early and you only work nine til four four days a week, so how come Snow stops you from getting up and getting here almost every day? Why is it never anything else? We know the answer before we ask, don't we? It's always the same. It's always Snow. Never anything else. We would love it to be something else to give us a little variety. But no, it's always Snow. We hope that one day it will be something else, we actually lay bets, but we all know what the answer will be. Every day the answer is Snow. Every day it is always the same thing. Snow is always to blame. * So Who Or What Is Snow? Is It A Person Or A Pet Or The White Crystalised Cold Water That Falls From The Sky? I will leave you to work that one out
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Jack Rollins. Content Warning.
They melted his eyes with coals. I can still hear the sizzling pops his corneas made, bursting as the glowing rocks liquified his eyeballs. The sweet, putrid stench of burning flesh and his agonized screams will likely haunt my nightmares forever.
By Kenny Penn2 years ago in Fiction
The Quiet, At Last
The quiet I craved has come, finally. My world is buried in white, blinding white. The winds I sent have ceased and it has brought me peace. It is done.
By Joseph "Mark" Coughlin2 years ago in Fiction