Microfiction

Brushstrokes of Love: A Tale of Art, Words, and Eternal Devotion
In the small coastal town of Ravenna, nestled against the backdrop of crashing waves and picturesque sunsets, two beautiful souls unknowingly began a journey that would forever intertwist their destinies.
By GOSPEL JOHN3 years ago in Fiction
Mother Bereft
As the road stretched, making the town grow farther behind her, a twinge a regret laid in her heart. "I'm sorry Lesley." She saw a glimpse of her eye beneath her helmet in the mirror. Doing so made her tearup, as she recognized those color as his own. "Just like mine. Of course he's mine. There's no denying that."
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Fiction
Reprise
Rachael wandered gaily on the wold transparent; arms widespread; tongue out catching cool, quenching rain. Her sable braids matted, grey cloak sodden, and leather boots drenched and filled with cloud blood, and even the hem of her mazarine dress wicked dew from the moor flowers as she gambolled upon the indigo heather, yet she remained unruffled. She even smiled upon hearing heavenly percussion, or seeing white light cleave a close sky in two. For she didn’t fear lightning strikes, she welcomed them. Her singed sleeves rolled down revealing blistered, scarred tissue, as she upraised a whorled wand, daring reprise.
By Samuel Andrew Milner3 years ago in Fiction
Whispers
In the moonlit room, whispers lingered like delicate mist. The nursery walls whispered secrets of laughter and love, but the cradle remained silent, untouched by tiny hands. Its lullabies unheard, its gentle sway unappreciated. The dreams that once danced within the crib were hushed, buried in the depths of an unfulfilled longing. The empty cradle stood as a poignant reminder of the love that never had a chance to bloom. Only the echoes of what could have been whispered softly, trapped in the corners of the nursery, forever longing for release. Whispers: nursery echoes, silenced cradle.
By Mark3 years ago in Fiction
Should Be Brown Eyes
Donnis ran into the driveway as soon as she saw Alan approaching. He held a package in his hands that he nearly dropped as she jumped into his arms.
By Colton McClintock3 years ago in Fiction
REGRET; NOT AT ALL
She does not react…at all. I’m not shocked but rather relieved that she does not return my punch. Bittersweet. My clenched fist throbs with a dull ache, a testament to the force it had exerted. Yet, as my gaze fixates upon her once pristine white brassiere, now stained with a seeping crimson hue, an odd sense of satisfaction washes over me. Another coquette, another act of retribution fulfilled. In this twisted dance of give and take, my actions become a means of repaying the debts owed to me.
By Muhammed Ahmed Imran3 years ago in Fiction
Separate Ways
A sudden rain falls in sheets as we lug our chipped tableware to the Goodwill on Second Avenue. My tank top plasters to my skin. Tomorrow you’ll be gone, crossing three time zones to where another woman waits.
By Aleta Davis3 years ago in Fiction
Ember
Something flickered on my shoulder, in my peripherals. I turned my head; it was flame. I batted it with my hand. My mother and sister sat across from me around the campfire, talking. My father sat to my right, removed. I couldn’t seem to put it out.
By Palmer Perkins3 years ago in Fiction
MY CHRONICAL LIFE
I am in love with a fairytale. Even though it hurts. I continued to sprint tirelessly, my breaths coming in gasps as I desperately sought to distance myself from the harsh grasp of reality. How could I confront it? The overwhelming sense of déjà vu enveloped me, reminding me that not enough time had passed for me to erase the memory of this very place from my mind.
By Muhammed Ahmed Imran3 years ago in Fiction
PANDORA’S BOX; THE TRAPPED MEMORIES
I had finally decided to pay a visit to the abandoned house. As I approached it, I now saw the house more distinctly. It lay under a naked sky. The sun was directly overhead; it was near the summer solstice. It was a rather cool day because it had rained last night.
By Muhammed Ahmed Imran3 years ago in Fiction
Arabian Princess's Quest 👑
In the enchanting land of Arabia, there lived a beautiful and spirited princess named Zaida. She was the daughter of the wise and just Sultan Al-Farouk, ruler of the prosperous city-state of Alhambra. Zaida had a heart as pure as gold, with eyes that sparkled like the evening stars, and a radiant smile that could brighten the darkest of days.
By Novel paradise3 years ago in Fiction
The Circle
The world was calm; the scent of the Old Man's mush filled the air. The little fly couldn't resist. Buzz. His tiny wings propelled toward the soupy breakfast; guided by instinct.
By Gina C.3 years ago in Fiction