Microfiction
Presidential Pranks
George smiles at himself as he holds up a hand mirror, reflecting the stately sitting room behind him. The blues of the couches and yellows in the wallpaper outline his grin. He’s trying his best to hold back his laughter. It’s not going well. He wants to show off.
By Jennifer Triplett2 years ago in Fiction
From Darkness to Light
In the heart of a small town, where the sunsets painted the sky with shades of pink and orange, lived a young woman named Emily. To the outside world, she was a beacon of strength and resilience, but her journey to that point had been a harrowing one, marked by the indelible scars of child abuse.
By Ezekiel Dada2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Attic
The Thompson family had always dreamt of living in a charming old house filled with history, and their dream finally came true when they moved into the Victorian mansion on Elm Street. The house had character, with creaking floorboards and hidden nooks that whispered tales of the past.
By Ezekiel Dada2 years ago in Fiction
The Hidden Diaries
Melissa sat on the dusty attic floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes filled with the remnants of her childhood. She hadn't been in this forgotten space for years, but something had drawn her back, a whisper from the past she couldn't ignore. Her heart raced as she reached for an old, weathered diary, its pages yellowed with age.
By Ezekiel Dada2 years ago in Fiction
Guardians of the Playground
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the schoolyard. In the far corner, a group of children huddled together, their faces etched with determination. Among them was Lily, a timid first-grader, her big brown eyes brimming with tears. She had become the target of Max, a hulking fifth-grader known for his cruelty.
By Ezekiel Dada2 years ago in Fiction
Crisis. Content Warning.
We are all familiar with "The Boy Who Cried Wolf" phenomena. This one September day, the health line assumed that. Some young boys dialed 911 as a joke. Their parents were out of the house. However, a few blocks away there was a young boy whose sister was kidnapped. He would have been kidnapped too but he hid himself well. He grabbed a cordless phone and called for help. The people on the other line scolded him while he tried to remain calm. It turned out the people handling the call hung up. The poor boy buried his head in his arms praying for the best.
By Sid Aaron Hirji2 years ago in Fiction
Self-Reflection
In the mirror, I see the dance of time and self-perception. Freckles, legacies of sun-soaked days, dot my skin. My hair, styled and sun-bleached, rebels with a frizzy will. I notice the signs of time's passage - the thinning of my lips, the laugh lines cradling my sparkling blue eyes, marked by a rogue dimple on my left cheek. I am the person in the mirror, yet also not. The reflection is my future self, my mind tethered to the past, creating a disorienting dichotomy.
By A Lady with a Pen2 years ago in Fiction
Can We build a Planet from Scratch?
What would we do as a species if this were to happen? The obvious solution is to reach out into the universe and establish colonies elsewhere, but space travel is incredibly complicated, and we're still unsure if it's even possible to reach another solar system within a reasonable amount of time. Whether it's due to human activity or a huge meteor crashing into us, planet Earth is not going to last forever.
By Cyril Lord2 years ago in Fiction
