Microfiction
Dancing Through the Sky. Runner-Up in Snow Micro Challenge. Top Story - January 2024.
Born moments ago in a darkened cloud, falling freely, furiously fluttering forward. The cold breath of life danced between the snowflake and its brothers and sisters as they tumbled and twisted together, towards the town way below.
By Aythan Maconachie2 years ago in Fiction
A Wintry Perspective
Stephen scowled at the mushy snow falling around him as he trudged the two blocks towards home. Having forgotten his gloves, he gripped two grocery sacks with shivering, wrinkled hands, and felt weak and blind. Barely keeping his eyes open in the bitter wind, he prayed for some kind of help, but was afraid to ask passersby.
By Daniel J. Heck2 years ago in Fiction
Beneath The Snow
It was Mom's responsibility to find a way to entertain us while Dad was away at work. During school, we’d watched the snow as it filled the sky. After leaving school, the bus turned northward on its way to our drop-off point. A handful of coal miners' children slid down the embankment from the highway and walked across the short but snowy valley that lay between the main road and the railroad tracks. Waving goodbye to our elementary school friends, me and my two brothers, David and Billy, began our climb up the hillside following our normal path through the thorny thickets. The snow made it a hard climb, but we persevered until we reached the snow-covered dirt road. I can still hear the large wet snowflakes falling against the dry tree branches and smell the smoke as Mom stirred the small bonfire. Once the fire was blazing, our makeshift sleds were bought out, wiped off, and slid into their usual starting place near the bonfire. At that starting point, it was a gradual slope down the mountainous road covered with snow. It was our last slide that created the memory I've carried with me for 57 years. After many passes of the sled's runners over the snow, a bare spot appeared. Mom and Billy encountered a bare spot in the dying light that immediately stopped their sled. It threw both of them off onto the road like throwing dice on a blackjack table. I hear them through the snow.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
Crushed
Droplets of water freezing before hitting the ground coming from the eves of an old cabin. Puffs of smoke crystallizing as the wood stove heats up the stove pipe. Brooklyn stood looking out the window frozen in time as if she was standing outside. She could feel her blood pumping fast, oxygen leaving her lungs, her eyes wide open, starting to panic unable to move.
By Leslie Strom2 years ago in Fiction
The Anti-Anthi Incident
The night was colder than usual. The Moon looked like snow. Goddess Athena was nowhere to be found. Glaukopis, her owl, was also missing. Anthi seemed to be fading deeper into fiction, along with her daughter, Delphine. All blue-and-white flowers were turning green and black. Only Eléni, my dearest narrator, appeared unscathed.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Fiction
Rendezvous' With a Cave Bear
One moves patient, unrushed in thick snow. Crusted in some places where the sun had a chance to glaze the surface. Enough so as to make walking almost burdensome. The sunshine I spent hunting my trapline past the oaks. No sign of game. The three trap line bunnies in my stuff sack were my first concern when I came across the rather large looking cat tracks traveling ahead of me up the path I was on.
By Erik ubbink2 years ago in Fiction
