Microfiction
The Legacy of Home
It was only August, but it already felt like Summer’s end. The heat had broken; maybe it was the thunderstorm of tears I had wept which had tempered the humidity and made the air less oppressive, as if the world were giving me some comfort. My eyes sizzled at the thought, threatening to begin bubbling pools again. I blinked fiercely, urging them silently to settle themselves. They obeyed, this time, and I sighed in relief. I did not want my eyes blurry as I traveled the tree arched mountain pass, her road ways curving up like a sanguine river. It was so peaceful, so familiar, and I cherished the sun sparkling through the emerald leaves and the smell of the sunlight toasting the onion grass as I drove onward towards home.
By Abdullah khan7 months ago in Fiction
The Seamstress in the Dark
It started with a hum. Not the low mechanical kind from washing machines or old pipes. This was soft. Almost like a lullaby. Sweet and strange, floating just above the edge of hearing. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t gone downstairs alone that night.
By CreepVille Horror Stories7 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
Pooh and Paddington were sitting at Pooh's table enjoying honey and marmalade with honey tea. Pooh asked him if he was lost and where's he supposed to be. Paddington said he just got off the train to stretch and use the loo, and then the train was gone. I started walking and ended here. Actually, I am headed to London to live. Would you like to stay here just for a little bit, and I can introduce you to a few of my friends and we can all figure a way to get you to London as soon as possible.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
A Nine Minute Drabble
It's nine minutes to midnight here in Newcastle-upon-tyne and I wondered if I could write and publish a drabble for no reason other than I am at a loose end and I want to go to bed, but after the colock strikes the midnight hour, except it doesn't because all the clocks are electronic, digital and have not hourly chimes, not even my OWL clock.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 7 months ago in Fiction
Bite Size Pieces
l'm not scared of him. Not really. I know I've got him where I want him. But you know what, I did feel a bit... uneasy when I saw his eyes. Boy was he ever mad! The pigs made to leave and I thought for a sec... What if... you know? What if I've read him all wrong?
By L.C. Schäfer7 months ago in Fiction
Smile. Runner-Up in Everything Looks Better From Far Away Challenge.
It’s nuts, isn’t it? How you can just know about someone? Never seen them before. Don’t know their name. Yet in a glance, you know the whole of them. Like everything about them was already written, and you read the book in a summer’s breath.
By R. B. Booth7 months ago in Fiction
Pooh meets Paddington
Pooh was on his daily walk through the Hundred Acre Wood when he saw what looked like another bear. He continued on and when he was side by side with this stranger that kind of looked like him, his tummy started to growl when he smelled something sweet when he met up with him. Pooh asked the stranger "Are you lost?" The stranger quietly shook his head. Pooh offered to take him to his house and later to Christopher Robin to help. Pooh wondered what the smell was, and the stranger said, "Marmalade." By the way my name is Paddington.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
"Missed Call at Midnight"
Missed Call at Midnight The first time it happened, Daniel was drunk. He’d been alone on his birthday for the third year in a row. No party, no cake, just a bottle of scotch and reruns of Jeopardy echoing through the walls of his too-quiet apartment. It was close to midnight when his phone buzzed. He was too far gone to notice until the next morning, when he blinked blearily at the missed call notification.
By Emotionally or creatively evocative7 months ago in Fiction
