Microfiction

Guilt by Episemectomy?
Mental health treatment has come a long way in the decades since neurosurgeons developed a means to resect memories. Advances in MRI technology have allowed for pinpoint isolation and excision of specific traumatic memories in the hippocampus, providing PTSD patients instant and permanent relief that no other treatment could.
By Cathy holmes2 years ago in Fiction
CraboKarenSyndronimous
They are the people sadly labeled as "Karens" by the internet and social media community. Yet sadly, they are suffering from a recently recognized affliction that is spreading throughout the world. The World Health Organization documented an alarming number of these "Karens" as the world's communities change.
By Jason Ray Morton 2 years ago in Fiction
Fallie
I am 10 months old, and I'm learning to walk. It's all about balance and taming gravity. When it comes to standing up straight, my tiny buttocks appear to be surprisingly heavy. One, two, three steps... plump! Mama smiles gently and calls me a fallie. She also says I'm a fast learner. She says many things, half of which I don't understand. Daddy is even worse. I complain the only way I can, but they still keep smiling at me with dark blue circles under their eyes. And I'm learning to be less whiny.
By Andrei Z.2 years ago in Fiction
pempto-pimpto-peptides
Jane sat in her cluttered kitchen staring at the bill in her hand. Was the quote genuine or was he ripping her off for knowing so little about car engines? She sighed. Who knows.
By Kayleigh Fraser ✨2 years ago in Fiction
Magneck
He used to keep his feet on the ground. No matter which direction he decided to turn, there was always something special that jumped out of the blue.
By Moon Desert2 years ago in Fiction
"Secrets of the Mystery Gully: Amelia's Uncommon Excursion into the Unexplored World"
Chapter 7: The Forge of Destiny Elysia's way driven her to the edge of a ruined no man's land known as the Burned Fields. The air was weighty with heat, and the ground broke underneath her feet. The remainders of a once-flourishing human progress lay dispersed, an obvious indication of the decimation that had occurred for this land.
By home doctor2 years ago in Fiction
Aphdry
She pulls the covers up and nuzzles in. Her credit card interest fee's are high, holidays are coming and she'd have to cut back on presenting the feast she had hoped to present to her family. The gifts she wished she could buy people would have to be supplanted with the next best she could afford. She had a big heart with large wishing dreams for others she knew were inconceivable in today's world and her situation. She couldn't remember the dreams of her own, but wanted others to believe in the ability to achieve dreams and goals. Tonight, instead of thinking of these realisms, her brain branching took her no where near these thoughts. Instead to thoughts of a specific feeling.
By simplicity2 years ago in Fiction
Solitism. Content Warning.
To what did I give thanks this year? I felt like a ghost as I sat at the family table, the sounds of chatter coming from all around, but none directed at me. It was the same as every other Thanksgiving, only this time it felt personal.
By B2 years ago in Fiction
The Final Expedition - Episode 16
You can catch up on the rest of the series HERE ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
Nosthymeoria
Evelyn often found herself lost in moments that never were. Her worn leather armchair was a stalwart vessel against the pressing concerns of reality, transporting her to a time that existed only in her imagination. She'd close her eyes and let the soft strains of a forgotten song fill the room, a melody that breathed of dreams never chased and loves never confessed.
By Aaron Richmond2 years ago in Fiction
Sewerdiferous
His gelatinous body quivered and roiled as Blobby slithered from one intersecting sewer pipe to another. He filled his lungs with the sewerdiferous aromas that permeated the air surrounding him. How could anyone not enjoy starting their day this way? Why would anyone choose to live in a world that didn’t smell like the one he grew up in?
By Mark Gagnon2 years ago in Fiction
The Man in the Trench Coat
Adelaide visited the same café, bright and early every morning. She sat, for the most part, unnoticed, just as she preferred, sipping a cup of coffee and struggling to write her novel on a laptop. And each day, she looked forward to seeing him, the man in the trench coat. He arrived every morning at nine o'clock on the dot, and without fail, he wore the trench coat. He cut quite the impressive figure, handsome and confident in attire and demeanor. He never glanced her way, but from where she sat at a corner table, Adelaide could watch him through half-shuttered lashes. What was beneath the trench coat, she could not help but wonder, her mind running rampant with possibilities.
By Cindy Calder2 years ago in Fiction