Microfiction

The Red Mage and the Thief
The Emberlight Covenant The city of Jeuno rose from the cliffs like a dream of white stone, its spires tipped in banners that swayed in the salt wind. Bridges as narrow as a dagger’s edge arched over the chasms between towers and the streets hummed with the life of a hundred nations. Traders hawking wares from desert caravans and smiths hammering sparks into fresh-forged steel; wandering minstrels singing in tongues from the farthest reaches of Vana’diel.
By Cadma7 months ago in Fiction
The Almost of Her. Winner in The Shape of the Thing Challenge.
Zelma’s hair is the color of honey when the light hits it just right. Not the raw kind, but golden and warm, the kind you find in glass jars on corner store shelves, glowing under cheap fluorescent bulbs. Her skin reminds you of the color of the sun, almost like the warmest day yet crisp day in Autumn. But her face semi broad nose, full lips, almond eyes with matching mono-lids whispers a different story. People never know what to make of her.
By Cadma7 months ago in Fiction
The Midnight Breakout
Vesper wakes up to the sound of the morning bell and gets dressed in two layers. They make sure the grey regulatory uniform conceals the set beneath.
By caito7 months ago in Fiction
*The Mysterious Suitcase*
It was a quiet Tuesday morning in the village of Nangal, the kind where even the chickens seemed to yawn in slow motion. Shabir, the tea stall owner, wiped down his counter with a faded cloth, the kettle humming softly beside him. That’s when he saw it—a black suitcase, sitting upright on the wooden bench outside his shop, as if it had been waiting for someone important.
By meerjanan7 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Secret
A Strange Shop in a Forgotten Village In the heart of a fog-veiled village, nestled between a forgotten bakery and an abandoned tailor’s shop, stood a curious little storefront with a creaky wooden sign that read:
By Echoes by Shafi--7 months ago in Fiction
The Shape of the Thing
Elliot first drew the creature when he was six. It was supposed to be a simple art project. His teacher, Miss Carrow, had asked the class to draw their imaginary friends. Most kids sketched knights or fairies, monsters with toothy grins and candy-colored wings. Elliot’s paper, by contrast, was quiet. It showed a corner of his room, scribbled in grayscale, with a crooked figure crouched in the shadows beside his toy chest. He’d labeled it in heavy crayon: The Shape of the Thing.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Fiction
Ghosting. Top Story - August 2025.
The party was in full swing by the time someone noticed her. At first she seemed to flicker out of existence as a train of dancing couples glided around the floor, but then Max blinked again and suddenly she was there.
By Taylor Rigsby7 months ago in Fiction
The AI That Wrote My Final Love Letter
The AI That Wrote My Final Love Letter The AI That Wrote My Final Love Letter I fed my memories into an AI and it wrote the perfect goodbye to someone I could never forget.
By Farooq Hashmi7 months ago in Fiction
The Third Sun
In the skies of Velora, a planet warmed by three radiant suns, light was life. The people built their homes, cities, and faiths around the celestial trio—Solari, Ember, and Veyra—each rising in a different part of the sky, bathing the world in constant glow.
By Solene Hart7 months ago in Fiction
What Did You Say It Was
People enjoy hobbies but not everyone enjoys the same thing. What one person may consider a captivating way to spend their spare time another individual may think the very same activity is boring or weird. Charlie and Bishop are two such individuals living on different sides of the spectrum. Charlie considers himself an ophiologist. It’s a fancy word for a person who studies snakes.
By Mark Gagnon7 months ago in Fiction
Unlearning Who I Thought I Had to Be
For most of my life, I believed I knew exactly who I was supposed to be. At least, that’s what I told myself. Growing up in a small town, with its quiet streets and sharp opinions, the expectations felt like a heavy cloak draped over my shoulders from the moment I could remember.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
The Day Everything Changed
It was a quiet Tuesday morning in the small town of Maplewood. The sun peeked through the blinds of the Carter family’s modest home, casting warm streaks of gold across the hardwood floor. Everything about the day started just like any other — coffee brewing in the kitchen, birds chirping outside, and the faint sound of a local radio station humming in the background.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction