Microfiction
The Sweetest Dreams
In the quiet town of Meadowbrook, nestled between rolling hills and whispering woods, lived a young girl named Elsie. Barely ten years old, with eyes wide as the sky and curls as golden as morning sunshine, she was known for something rare—her dreams. Not just any dreams, but dreams so vivid and enchanting that people swore they could smell the flowers, feel the wind, and taste the honeyed air she described upon waking.
By NIAZ Muhammad7 months ago in Fiction
Pooh's visit with Piglet
Piglet puts down his broom beside the door and he and Pooh go in his house. Piglet offers his favorite, and Pooh wonders if Piglet has his as well. They sit at Piglet's small table and Pooh notices there it is along with some tea and biscuits. Piglet must have known he would be by on his morning walk through the woods. Piglet is smart that way for I am a bear of very little brain. They sat and asked each other what each of them had planned. They each had nothing really to do on this day and thought.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
Pooh pays a visit
Pooh continued down the path for he decided to go see his best friend Piglet. Pooh also thought maybe he would have a possible spot of his favorite snack or something. He continues down the path to Piglet's house. When he arrives there, he sees that Piglet is out and as normal sweeping the leaves away from his door. Piglet is so busy with sweeping that he does not notice that Pooh is coming down the path, and Pooh is hoping that Piglet has not had breakfast. Piglet turns and sees Pooh. Hi, Pooh Bear how about a snack now.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
Pooh Bear
As Pooh was wandering through the Hundred Acre Wood he came up a small puddle, and he wondered what could live in such a small place. He bent over to check it out and you know what he saw he saw a frog and a worm. Pooh thought. Pooh studied the frog all around till the frog hopped away and the worm slithered away too. Pooh thought again. Maybe that frog and worm didn't live there and they were just going along like he was on a morning walk before breakfast. Pooh continued on down the path and visited Piglet.
By Mark Graham7 months ago in Fiction
The Legacy of Home. Top Story - July 2025.
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 Ellie Hoovs7 months ago in Fiction
The President’s Last Protester
The sky over District 9 was always gray now. Not from clouds, but from the haze of burnt air, ash of deleted history, and the slow decay of freedom. The “Era of Unity,” they called it—a slogan stamped onto every building, drone, and screen like a warning.
By Ubaid Khan7 months ago in Fiction
The Noise Darkness Makes
Tick… Tick… Tick… That noise—what is that noise? Tick… Tick… Tick… There it goes again. What is that noise? I can only see darkness, so what is causing that sound? Maybe a clock? But where? I tried to concentrate, but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere—All directions, with no relent, as it continued to tick, tick, tick.
By John Henry7 months ago in Fiction
Five Shadows
He didn't know how it happened or when it started, but he had been in many places where he cast multiple shadows, and didn't think anything of it, but now, everywhere he went, he cast five shadows. He didn't know why, and nothing seemed to be amiss, but each day it preyed a little more on his mind.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 7 months ago in Fiction
