Microfiction
Badger and the Alaskan Bush Pilot
“Mike, Cayenne Pepper is planning the drop at 1100 hours. Come back!” “Let’s go, Buddy, Mike is meeting us.” Badger jumped up, panting; his tail wagged so hard, it stung Mike’s leg. Suited for the minus twenty-two temperature, he took off on the snowmobile with its supply sled attached. Badger loped along at his own pace under the bright blue sky, snow flying off his paws. He disappeared after a snowshoe bunny into the black spruce woods.
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Fiction
End of the Beginning
Today marks the last day of the beginning month of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge. I don't know if I can pull off 366 days (including February 29), but I'm pretty pumped that — with today's — I've conquered a whole month. Thus, this ends the first month.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
The Return
The dragonling lay on my chest. No longer curled, but lying pitifully on one side, irridescent green flank heaving. I'd discarded my t-shirt, since his scales had cooled so much they no longer burned. I hoped the warmth of my own body might help to stop him cooling even further.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
What If Your Bones Go Missing?
Hey, imagine if your skull, femur, and rib cage decided to take a vacation, leaving you boneless. Welcome to the world of a skeleton-less you! So, your bones do more than just keep you standing tall; they're like the MVPs of your body, producing blood cells, fats, and minerals. But what if we yank them all out, from your noggin to your toes? Poof! You're now a human jellyfish.
By Eniola Bello2 years ago in Fiction
Winter’s Icing
Well here I am. Just a little kid reveling in the last day of winter. It is also not lost to me that on this final day of winter we were given a snow day. Though it is cloudy and the fluffy white snow is still here, in a matter of minutes the clouds will fade away and the sun will be out. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sun and the heat, it’s actually my favorite time of the year, but there’s just something about the snow that I’ll always have a soft spot for.
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
Snowflake
Yes, Snowflake is my name and I’m proud of it. It’s a name that describes my pure white crystalline color. When people think of me, they think of my intricate design and the way I gently float from the clouds above. Did you know that none of my kind are exactly alike? We are billions, and every one of us is unique. Unlike humans, we will never have a twin. I’m also delicate. It only takes a ripple of air or a puff of your breath to send me soaring away. Maybe it’s because of my unassuming countenance that you find it so easy to defame me.
By Mark Gagnon2 years ago in Fiction
Be Still
I slipped my arm from underneath him, his eyes lay heavy, deeply asleep. Grabbing my coat and shoes, I sneak out the door, intentionally avoiding the hassle of waking him. His house though lacking basic human needs of furniture, was still warm, warmer than the 10 inches of fresh snow that greeted me at the door. The time was well past midnight, yet the sky appeared anything but dark as the falling snow bounced off the orange in the street lights. I have always loved the night, but standing there, canvassed by layers of white all around, while only you stand in the street, was pure magic. The cold was crisp, the air in my lungs releasing a misty cloud every breath. It was quiet, but not in a eerie way, it was peaceful. Every step crunched beneath my boot as I was creating a path that had never been formed. Cars covered in the mornings future hassle, chilling ice melting into the inch between my boots and pants. I was forming a cool sweat with every step, as I trecked back toward my dorm. My eyes mesmerized by the white lit sky in the depth of the night. The fernlike stellar dendrite flakes flow down effortlessly as they join the white canvas that surrounds me, My eyes grew weary and fingers bacame numb, yet I wanted to stand still, be still in this moment. A moment where nothing moves, nothing speaks, Where the delicate descending snow meets the street.
By Rilee Arey2 years ago in Fiction
Victoria's Mannequin
In the heart of the city, amidst the glittering lights and bustling streets, stood the exclusive boutique of the renowned clothing designer, Victoria Blackwell. Her creations were worn by the elite, and her name echoed through fashion circles like an enchanting melody. Yet, within the walls of her opulent studio, a chilling secret lurked.
By WanderingZombie2 years ago in Fiction
