Microfiction

See The Dawn
The stories continue. L.C. Schäfer started this! She is to blame. You can find out about this here: Prompt number twenty-two:
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Drunk
Zach and Jerry went bowling every Saturday. They were stepbrothers and had very little in common. Zach was a good kid generally and was introverted. Jerry hung out with the bad boys who smoked in bathrooms, and looked at pornography. One day Jerry brought a few of his friends to the bowling place. They snuck in alcohol in juice containers.
By Sid Aaron Hirji2 years ago in Fiction
Edge of the Universe
“Stop talking, please. Listen to what I’m saying. I have something very important to tell you. I have seen things that will change our very view of reality itself. Who and what we are is not what we believe it to be. Things, life, it will never be the same again. There are others watching us. I’ve been to the edge of the universe. There is no way that I can describe it. You have to see it for yourself.”
By David E. Perry2 years ago in Fiction
A Couple's Dream
She chased after the frisbee. She felt her joy soar, as she slid over the ice. But she did catch the disk. She waited to get her balance and then tossed it back. She moved off the ice patch over to the flakey snow. Greg went to return the disk to her but she quickly tackled him. They rolled in the snow. "This is more fun than frisbee". He laughed and pulled her up.
By Antoinette L Brey2 years ago in Fiction
Snow Runs Red
The bullet went right through his skull. She watched as the man who pulled the trigger run from them into the forest. Her body was frozen as she looked back to her friend. She watched him fall in slow motion, hitting the ground with a thud.
By Rich Burton2 years ago in Fiction
Feeling Lost
I honestly have no idea how I got here. For some reason, I am now sitting underneath a bed, well I do know. My loving owner was frolicking with her boyfriend in bed and I was on the pillow because she had me in her hands swiping and playing with her Candy Crush game on me, then, sure enough, this guy came over and she just threw me up on her pillow and they started going at it. She could have at least put me on her nightside table or her desk or anywhere else, but then bam I was tossed down by him, and here I am just laying on the floor. They even laughed as I fell and they continued to make out. She did not even have the courtesy to stop and pick me up. Doesn't she know I am expensive? I am probably the singular most expensive object in her room and here I am lying down with all this dog fur, dust, and crumbs. The bed sure does squeak a lot, wish it was not so loud! Oh goodness! A sock on me!! Gross, it’s his sweaty sock it really stinks like worse than her gym locker bag! Bleh! Of course she won’t stop now until the deed is done. Now I have to be here with this sock! It’s just one thing after another! This is truly awful experience I am usually tucked away in a pocket or even in her wallet. I miss those funny credit cards and gift cards. After the bed stopped squeaking, the room was silent, then not until much later did the light in her room turned on. Oh maybe she is here for me?
By Ada Zuba2 years ago in Fiction
The Sow Bear
She knew it was a dream, but not for lack of realistic feeling. She looked down at massive bear paws that sunk into the snow, and the breath that fogged ahead of her snout.
By S. C. Almanzar2 years ago in Fiction
Silver Mornings. Top Story - January 2024.
Wings formed a leathery tent above her head. The combined heat of three massive bodies had melted the snow and the seat of her britches was wet. Rowyn sighed and sullenly pushed her way out from her cove of dragon breath. The world was washed anew in white. The evergreens wore a fresh dress that drifted in fluffy mounds to the ground, rich as velvet and just as soft. The morning light could not pierce the retreating storm clouds, instead diffusing into a gentle silver; so gentle that no shadows could find purchase, slipping and scattering into the gray under the trees.
By M. A. Mehan 2 years ago in Fiction
A Winter Burial
Marlowe Bender always received the task of shoveling snow near their home, and it was usually done with a smile on her face, though the last part was always according to her husband, James Bender. In actuality, this was James' task, but Marlowe couldn't remember the last time James actually did the task--or any actual work.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
Snowman
It was that song. If it wasn’t for that stupid song, I would have never been in this situation. The moment it started playing, the song, and the idea, was stuck in my head. It just kept playing over and over again in my mind. It asked a very simple question and I had to respond. “Do you want to build a snowman?” The thing is, I did want to build a snowman. I really did. I know, I know. Now the song is stuck in your head too. Forgive me. I promise, it will go away. Eventually.
By David E. Perry2 years ago in Fiction
Gathering Storm
The clouds gathered swiftly, and the rider stopped his horse to get a better look. He tilted his head back, and a harsh wind blasted them from the north. It continued to blow, and the clouds multiplied and darkened.
By S. C. Almanzar2 years ago in Fiction
At The Very End
He stood in silence as the glow in the sky became brighter and brighter. Eventually he knew it would become as bright as the sun, and then, shortly thereafter, his world would end. Snow and ice blew around him in all directions. The way the light glinted off it gave the appearance that he stood amidst a swirling maelstrom of tiny diamonds. He thought it very beautiful and for a moment his spirits lifted, but then grim reality struck as he realized it would soon be gone. The snow, the ice, his friends, his family, his world, obliterated by the massive solar flare ray moving at the speed of light directly toward him and everything he knew. There was nothing to be done about it now, so he pulled his parka hood up over his cold ears, bowed his head down low as a shield against the blowing snow and freezing winds, and began to walk. Slowly, one step at a time, watching the snow collapse below each boot and seeing the deep impressions he left behind. It was already beginning to melt. Each footprint slowly began to fill with water, the frozen tundra upon which he walked was becoming a lake, and he would soon drown, or freeze, or perhaps boil to death depending on how quickly events transpired after the flare hit the outer atmosphere. The snow had turned to rain. The last thing he felt was a tear fall from his eye, or was it a raindrop.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction