Microfiction

How Long before you noticed I wasn't there?
I am sure it is probably the best day to reach out to you from here under the snow laden ground where I am fused to the cement with salt and dirt and freezing water. There are 12 inches of snow upon me now and I don't know if you will ever find me. It is freezing. Although it is dark and light at the same time. I can feel the pressure of the snow and the ground does rumble. I don't know how long I will be here under this icy rubble.
By Abbey June Schwartz2 years ago in Fiction
Festum Asinorum
In Christianity, January 14 is Festum Asinorum, or "Feast of the Ass." In France it is known as the Fête de l'âne, which has morphed to that from the Feast of Fools. The Christian connection to this celebration is the ass, itself, a donkey used by the holy family to leave Egypt.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Creation and Elation
"Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist of creating out of the void but out of chaos." — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice, With a Pinch of Ginger
January 12 is National Kiss a Ginger Day. Red is the color of fire, and I wear my hair wild, as a warning: Not too close or you could get burned.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of Oak & Acorn - Episode 5
A Picnic Under the Harvest Moon The harvest moon, a celestial lantern, bathed Acorn Creek in an ethereal glow. On the familiar hilltop, a patchwork quilt of memories – worn blankets spread beneath the moonlight. Elias, a boy woven from summer and silence, Sarah, his firefly-bright companion, Mama, a canvas where joy and sorrow wrestled, and Papa, a silhouette cast by regret, perched upon its warmth, hesitant smiles battling moonlit shadows.
By J.mellal2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of Oak & Acorn - Episode 6
The School Play and a Father's Applause The final curtain fell, leaving behind a silence heavier than the standing ovation that had just rocked the auditorium. Elias, bathed in the stage's fading spotlight, felt the echo of applause still tingling in his bones, yet a different kind of tremor ran through him now. It was the tremor of fear and anticipation, of standing on the precipice of something new, something he wasn't sure he was ready for.
By J.mellal2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of Oak & Acorn - Episode 4
Secrets Under the Weeping Willow The weeping willow, a silvery curtain against the bruised twilight, sighed secrets into the hushed air. Beneath its emerald eaves, Papa sat, a statue sculpted from regret and solitude. The creek mirrored his melancholic state, its glassy surface reflecting a man adrift in a sea of unspoken sorrows. Elias, a fledgling navigator on this emotional ocean, approached with measured steps, his heart carrying a fragile lantern of hope.
By J.mellal2 years ago in Fiction
Resolution
Two weeks since I started this challenge. L.C. Schäfer proposed to spend 2024 choosing to write a microfiction story every day, making 366 stories for every day of this lovely leap year and here we are at 14! That deserves a toast!. You can check her original story out here:
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Nectar of the Gods. Content Warning.
The sky was emerald, the sun was crimson, and the air was tight. Not exactly what I expected the end of the world to look like. Then again, no one really expected to survive when the gods returned.
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Fiction
Blurry lines
A Micro-fiction in rhythm * I’ve misplaced my glasses. It seems I always do. Just when I think I’ve found a great place to hold them,
By Natasha Collazo2 years ago in Fiction
Bachelor Party
Once, one of Mother Combs's closest friends was getting married, so she and a few others set up a bachelor party for him. They invited many of his closest friends and family. They arranged for a wet bar to be set up and a caterer to bring in a meal of prime ribs. They’d planned for everything and even made a giant cake and hired a young, beautiful woman to jump out of the cake for her friend.
By Mother Combs2 years ago in Fiction
Dead or Asleep?
"Is it dead?" Olivia whispered, her eyes wide open in shock and amazement. "Dunno. Maybe, just sleeping?" Emilia whispered back, mirroring her sister's emotions.
By Lana V Lynx2 years ago in Fiction