Microfiction

Oversight
” It’s legal on the other line, I should grab this…. Yep, I’ll call you back. Hello? Yes, I remember. Diane from legal. How can I help you?
By Lisa Geiger3 years ago in Fiction
Antique Books & Parchment
He loved the way she would absent-mindedly bite the end of her quill in concentration only to splutter quietly the moment the feathers touched her tongue. He always pretended to not see.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
Emerald Faerie
Since I was a child my favorite story been the spirit of a faerie beneath the oldest, biggest, oak tree in our forest. She supposedly had hair the color of emeralds and eyes as bottomless as the deepest ocean. So kind, so lovely, that the most evil of humans could not bear the sight of her. In the end, refusing to succumb to his whim she took her own life but saved her soul that would connect her to the forest forever.
By Rabidbluefaerie3 years ago in Fiction
Accretion
Something pulled him to Alyxander, something primal and instinctual that was beyond sexual attraction. All he knew is that they felt like two magnets flying towards one another across a great distance. Their joining would be destructive but it was all they wanted. Raw, dark curiosity drove him, dangerous in this form.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
The Torch & The Flame
She thought that Dorian would have given some rousing speech, a martyr’s last words but all he did was look lamentably at her and mumble hoarsely, “I’m sorry I failed”.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
In The End
As he laid there on the cold ground, feeling the lightness of the breeze through his hair and the slowing heaves of his chest, nothing else mattered. Not the young girl he pushed out of the path of a negligent driver. Not the distant sirens racing to save his life. Not the pain. Just the peace of lying in the arms of the one he loved.There was a blissful static silence with interrupting echoes of reality. A tear escaped as he smiled and let the darkness consume him; his last image being the hummingbird on her arm.
By Julia Alfred3 years ago in Fiction
After Constellations Go Dark
Fly, Volans, is the last thought I manage before the fever finally overwhelms me just as the aurora lights go dim, waves of light disappearing one by one as if someone was turning off switches and saying goodnight.
By R.C. Taylor3 years ago in Fiction
At a summer camp
With the chill rising in the room, I pulled the sheets from my friend, thinking she had taken mine. Then, a tug of war woke me to the shock of four bodies lying on the floor.
By Parvathi J3 years ago in Fiction
The Glitching
Upon walking through the door, Dora was immediately bombarded. Her daughter was being lured down another rabbit hole, obsessing over yet another online conspiracy theory. The Glitching, the kids were calling it.
By Aphotic3 years ago in Fiction
Zombie Phones
I was at my desk and I got a text. I was on break so I opened it. The text said, “you’ve got a virus.” “Crap,” I said. My phone started making a humming sound and I couldn’t stop staring at my phone. I had the uncontrollable urge to play the sound for everyone at the office. They all started staring at their phones and they all downloaded the same virus. We left the office and played the sound for everyone we saw. They started staring at their phones too, and downloaded the same virus. We were all brainwashed zombies.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Has she found the right one?
She doesn’t see herself having kids with him. Why? Because he’s reaching a certain age, and he believes (amongst other reasons too) that he has the education that can make kids smarter and better than they are. He believes he can teach them well at a young age. Her? She's 26. Her dreams are starting to flourish. She's a professional dance teacher, and now she's escalating. Having kids doesn’t fall into that category. Or maybe she hasn't found the right partner. A tough convo to have, despite them being together for 5 years. He wants partnership, she desires independence.
By Priya G3 years ago in Fiction
THE ABANDONED HOUSE
The abandoned house stood at the edge of a nondescript, vacant cul-de-sac, with patches of ghost-grey fog being inhaled by the sky. The street lights indicated that the torch in my hand was the only reliable source of light. The fog dragged a cold breeze, which sent a chill up my spine. As I walked closer to the house, I saw things hinting that the place had been desolate. There were three steps to the huge wooden door, denuded of paint. The door was covered in cobwebs and grime. As I was about to open the door, from my peripheral vision, I saw a wooden horse—the rocking type—with a torn-apart seat made of leather. The horse was sitting on a thin layer of ice on the grass. It was a bleak mid-winter night, and it was showing
By Muhammed Ahmed Imran3 years ago in Fiction