Microfiction
Light in the Darkness
Stacy wandered down the freezer aisle when suddenly everything went dark. The emergency lights flickered on, casting an eerie glow over everything. In the dim light, Stacy spotted a small boy clutching a tub of ice cream to his chest, eyes wide and nervous.
By Sarah Tinney6 months ago in Fiction
The Love Thief. Top Story - August 2025.
As the sun lies down to sleep, figures dance across green fields dotted with daffodils. Twisting and turning, they meet in the evening’s cool breeze. Staring into each other’s eyes, they feel the weight of the universe bear down on their hearts. The shaking in their knees makes them shiver in the summer air. They enter each other without care as they stare into each other’s souls. In love with each other’s drawing gaze, as time scrolls by, it turns to a haze.
By Atomic Historian6 months ago in Fiction
The Gap in the Lights
The hillside is the kind people pay to get married on, groomed to look like it never needed grooming. Rows of grapevines contour the slope like the ribs of some benevolent giant, and beyond them the river unspools in a silver S, ferrying light instead of boats. I’m on the balcony above the reception lawn with a flute of seltzer that keeps fogging my fingers. The glass sweats more than I do. Through my sunglasses, the whole place is color-graded into a pretty lie—blues deeper, greens silkier, faces dewy with someone else’s good lighting.
By The Kind Quill6 months ago in Fiction
The Town That Forgets You
The Story The Town That Forgets You The first thing I noticed about Willow’s End was how quiet it was. No cars passed along the single main street. The air was heavy, still, as if the whole town held its breath. A few shops lined the street—a bakery, a general store, a post office—but none had signs that looked newer than a decade old.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Room I’ll Never Return To
The Story The Room I’ll Never Return To I hadn’t been back to the house in almost twenty years. The movers had already emptied most of it when I arrived, but the silence still felt heavy, like the walls were holding their breath. My parents were both gone now—Dad last winter, Mom two years before that—and the old place had been left to me.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
