Microfiction

My Friend’s Last Words Came in a Dream
It’s been a year since Lily passed away, but sometimes it still feels like she might text me, or I’ll turn a corner and see her laughing in that way only she could. Grief is strange like that—it never really goes away, it just changes shape.
By ETS_Story6 months ago in Fiction
Dinner with My Future Self
I woke up on a Wednesday morning to find an email in my inbox with the subject line: Dinner Reservation Confirmed – With Yourself
By Muhammad Sabeel6 months ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
House of Cups
They are everywhere - on the table, next to the couch, on the desk. I try to ignore them. It’s not my job to clean up after everyone else.
By Sarah Tinney6 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
Piglet climbed down the small tree and smiled and walked over to Eeyore and handed him his tail. Eeyore was so happy in his own way and Paddington opened his suitcase to see if he had anything to attach Eeyore's tail so maybe he would not lose it again. He found a safety pin and attached to Eeyore's back end. Eeyore was just so happy wiggling it around. He offered his thanks to all involved and joined in the party that seemed to be growing to get Paddington back to London proper. Who will they meet next? Could it be....
By Mark Graham6 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
Eeyore reached the sapling and studied it very long. "I think I found my tail up a tree. Have no way of knowing how it got this far. They all said that it was quite blustery this morning. "I suppose it was." said Eeyore. They all looked up into the tree and they to see what looked like Eeyore's tail. The tree did not look strong enough for Pooh or Paddington or even Eeyore to climb, so Piglet decided to shake off his anxiety and climb the tree. Piglet made it to the spot, and it was Eeyore's tail now.
By Mark Graham6 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
Paddington saw something hanging in the thistle bush and called Pooh over "Is this his tail?" It was just a piece of thin bark. They continued to walk down the path looking in directions. Paddington was getting a little peckish and pulled out a marmalade sandwich and offered to all for he liked to share. Pooh, Piglet and Eeyore had their favorite snacks, and marmalade was not what they wanted at the moment. They noticed something hanging from a tree sapling and walked closer. "Could it be?" Eeyore was first to check it out for he missed his tail much.
By Mark Graham6 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
As Pooh and Paddington was walking through the Hundred Acre Wood along with Tigger and Piglet they bumped into Eeyore and his search for his tail that he seems to lose every now again. Eeyore says "Hi, Pooh, Piglet and Tigger." Eeyore looks at Paddington and introduces himself and says will you help me find my tale? Paddington looks at the others and agrees to help him. "Where do we look first?" They walk down to where Eeyore just left, and they saw a thistle bush. Paddington looked all around it along with the others. They saw something hanging there.
By Mark Graham6 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story6 months ago in Fiction
Shootout At The Fantasy Factory
The only evidence was the cool gangster clothes floating in the ether. This was where the "Fantasy Factory" had stood, a cool disco frequented by money and faux-class, thinking themselves as great as Gatsby, but now they were gone.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 6 months ago in Fiction
“The Last Paper Crane”*
In a narrow lane where the sun barely touched the ground by midday, tucked between a tea stall and an old tailor’s shop, stood a small stationery store with peeling green paint and a wooden sign that read “Baba Jan’s Papers” in faded ink.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
*The Bench by the Lake*
There was a lake on the edge of a quiet town, half-hidden behind sycamore trees and tangled ivy. It wasn’t on any tourist map, and no signs pointed to it. But those who found it—by accident or ache—often came back.
By meerjanan7 months ago in Fiction