Microfiction
Demoniatic
I got exactly what I wished for and I wish I could take it back. I would have sold my soul for some form of adoration. I wanted so much to be liked back that it didn't matter how it happened. When your self esteem is nonexistent, you won't believe anyone could ever think you're pretty. When you're so self conscious, you think the world is making everyone believe you're ugly. Maybe if the devil had offered me another option, I would have changed my mind. I wish for a boy to notice me and he did. 19-year-old's don't know what they want but want it anyways. Validation is an evil thing in itself. When you can't validate yourself, you seek it from others. I sought in the eyes from a boy who smoked too much weed. He had a pretty face but don't they all? He would put his mouth on mine but there was no spark. He would try to get me high but I didn't want to. I couldn't dare look him in the eye. He tried to get me to have sex with him in his car but I did not want to. I wanted him to want me and he sure did. He didn't want me the way I wanted him to. Wishes are purely selfish and when they are granted, the genie gives you your heart's desire. Maybe we should learn to love ourselves instead.
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Fiction
Chromasomniō. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
His eyes... I can't quite capture them. Hooked under heavy lids, sleep shadows of viridian and phthalo green. A wash of ultramarine. An easy smile creases his face so the sunlight catches; gold, chartreuse, and peridot join hands to dance circles around a pitch pupil.
By Jenna Sedi2 years ago in Fiction
Technion
The Ceremonial Temple of the Ninjato was open for public viewing once more. Tonight was to be a special evening with the changing of the guard for a new ninja leader and guardian of their entire tribe. This special Ninja leader, soon to be a Technion, had been found worthy of special talents combining the best in technology and sorcery with his own martial arts mastery.
By Kent Brindley2 years ago in Fiction
Muddelex /mud-dull-lex/
Ascension Laura's psychosis embellishes multifarious prognostications. The utilization of extraneous methodologies inadequately contradicts evolutionary understanding. Her clandestine existence antithetically portrays intricacies, gravitating towards mental oblivion.
By Lamar Wiggins2 years ago in Fiction
Antiquaressence
Portobello Road was one of her favorite places on Earth. The maze of cobblestone streets peppered with tourists promised hidden treasure if you were patient enough to go hunting. The rules were simple. Avoid said tourists at almost all costs. They usually opted for the neat stalls, all the finds deftly organized in the windows, beckoning in more hopeless saps. Suckers.
By E.K. Daniels2 years ago in Fiction
Whisbreatru In Salem Village, 1692. Content Warning.
I begged him not to go. These examinations are based on deception, those girls are lying! I grabbed the saddle from his horse that he wrangled away from me. A stubborn old fool who was willing to delve into the preposterous belief that they would not turn on him. Then he, when accused, should turn on me. Here I have devoted my life to becoming a good wife to him and a woman of God. As such I could not condone lies. I have a mind and because I will speak, I am cast as wicked. I pray for these souls. I am a woman of the church that is why Giles married an old soul who could bare him nothing. He knew I read books. He knew I was more invested in truth, as it will bring our souls to the purity, we once all were. He knew yet he has joined the accusers.
By C. H. Richard2 years ago in Fiction
Cosmosenergification
Sunrise permeated my tent, inviting me to rise from my slumber. My waking mind wandered to the career I just quit, and residual waves of anxiety shot through my nerves. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head, hoping for respite. Suddenly, I heard the forest gently whisper. It wasn't an audible voice but rather an intrinsic understanding that vibrated up my spine. I lay silent, hoping I'd hear it again.
By Kristen Balyeat2 years ago in Fiction
Zogshly
When I was a kid–just coming to terms with what sounds needed to stay and where to place them in my very limited vocabulary, feeling the limits of the English language when compared to my wonderfully creative mind and speech impediment–I created tons of words.
By Jay,when I write2 years ago in Fiction
The Indefatigable Case of Biliferalfricitis
It happened like clockwork. A silent, yet resounding alarm went off in his head and an itch, an unscratchable itch, formed just below the skin liable to drive even the sanest asunder. None of his clothes would fit right, the sound of voices, dull, grating blades against his skin, the mere presence of people and thought searing paper cuts.
By Kay Johner2 years ago in Fiction
