Satire

"The Echoes of War: A Journey from Darkness to Peace"
Once upon a time, in the land of Aleron, a kingdom known for its lush landscapes and peaceful inhabitants, darkness descended upon the horizon. The distant sounds of drums and the clashing of swords echoed through the valleys, announcing the arrival of war. It was a conflict that would forever change the lives of those involved and leave a lasting scar on the land.
By AHMED BUTT3 years ago in Fiction
Zara the Powerful Sorceress
Sometime in the distant past, in a distant realm, there was a strong sorceress named Zara. She had long, streaming dark hair and splendid, puncturing green eyes that appeared to sparkle in obscurity. Zara had forever been intrigued by the enchantment of the stars and the universe, and she went through numerous evenings concentrating on the antiquated texts and rehearsing her spells under the twilight.
By Samuel Moses3 years ago in Fiction
The New Olympians
And lo, through the veiled haze the people finally remembered the old ways of worship. Apollo awoke first before rousing Hera then Zeus. When mighty Zeus saw how humans had defiled his Earth, he angrily swept away the foulness, telling his people to befoul no longer.
By Roy Stevens3 years ago in Fiction
Breaking Down Bitcoin (I): The Only Cryptocurrency True To Its Essence
Start writing...Bitcoin was the first cryptocurrency to be created, inspired by a document published in 2008 by a mysterious author under the pseudonym Satoshi Nakamoto. In this document, it described the operation of a peer-to-peer electronic money system, based on proof-of-work and distributed consensus. The goal: to create a currency that would be resistant to censorship, inflation and corruption.
By DJ Writer3 years ago in Fiction
Writer's Block
He sat comfortably in his office chair staring eagerly at the blank page. There was a creative challenge to craft a captivating, thought-provoking micro-fiction story on Vocal. Since his childhood years, he dreamt of being the most intriguing writer of the twenty-first century. He enjoyed reading stories in many different genre's during his adolescent years, spending time practicing his writing by creating fan-fiction novels and jotting down personal journal entries. However, he just couldn't conjure an idea today. A simple story is all he had to create. A captivating micro-fiction with less than one hundred words. Is it even possible?
By Dylan 3 years ago in Fiction
Walking on Eggshells
I was always careful not to upset my roommate. He was a genius, but very quick to anger. I got him a gift card for a massage for his birthday. “Why? Do I look like I need to relax?” He asked. Oh crud, he was angry. “Honestly, yes. Please don’t be mad,” I begged. “We’ll, thank you. I appreciate your honesty,” he said. Now we go for weekly massages together. It was all fun and games, until the spa exploded from a gas leak. Now we go hiking through the woods to relax.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Karen Vs. Karen
I complained to the captain of the cruise that he wasn’t sailing right. I complained to management that there weren’t enough caviar crackers. I complained to the chef that everything was undercooked. I complained to the waiter that the service was to slow. And I told all the customers they were to noisy and to go back to where they came from, even though I had no idea. I called them all idiots. A woman came up to me and told me to shut up, and when I didn’t she threw me off the boat. Her name was Karen, too!
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Microfiction Obsession
Hi, I’m a writer. My pen name is Alex McGee. I’m currently writing for a competition called microfiction magic. I keep writing and submitting miniature stories of all sorts. I keep coming up with new ideas, better ideas. I can’t stop writing. My fingers are about to explode from all the typing I’m doing. Hi this is Alex’s stenographer, Leslie Typist. I was hired to inform you that Alex’s fingers exploded from over use on the keyboard. I’ll be typing all of his stories from now on as he dictates until his fingers regrow. Thank you. Have a nice day.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
The Neighbors
I knew I looked haggard, but the cruelty the neighbors showed was unnecessary. They’d call me names like ugly and witch. When I stayed inside they’d throw things at my house like eggs and rocks. I called the police but had no evidence. I was going to change things. I pretended to sell my house and invited everyone to a block party for the new neighbor. I hired a makeup artist to make me look younger. They all ate the dessert I made. I smiled as they foamed at the mouth. Now they’re all going to die from poison pie.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
The Wisping Wind
Paul laid on the beach thinking to himself, “They say the perfect beach experience doesn’t exist. But it does. Lounging here, the sun warming my body. The waves bringing in the cool ocean breeze, as it blows the hair on my back from side to side with each roll of the tide. The closest I’ve come to liking a warm clime. Perhaps this was the best time. A turning point. One can only hope.” Turning back over to read his book, he continued to enjoy the first bit of joy he’d had in months.
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Fiction
Rubatosis - the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat
Blue-gray light streams through the open window. The pale breeze floats the silky curtains into the room, papers slightly lifting off the desk before settling back into their place. Freshly shaven legs entwine the soft blankets, covering sections of limbs, leaving others open to the air; small arm hairs stand upright like little toy soldiers, a result of the airy chill. Deep vermillion socks scrunch messily around narrow ankles, barely poking out from beneath the warmth. Velvet hair loosely covering the pillows, slowly drying from a previous shower. In the background, a noise arises from the deep hollows of her chest: a small beat. Another. Another. Heavy thumping, caged within xylophone bones echoing around waxy ear canals. A childhood drum-set symphony playing a soundtrack to empty nights; where instead of laughter the only sound is a human organ dribbling a basketball on newly laminated floors. Beats of endless dripping faucets fill the hollow weights pressing down on flimsy chest plates. The normally comforting pulse of the vascular system drowns in unsettlement.
By Ady Evans3 years ago in Fiction
Caffeine Addiction
Perhaps I shouldn’t have drank that last bit, perhaps I should have used a mug instead of chugging straight from the pot. Perched upon a rock hard mattress, swimming in fluffy blankets and a mountain of pillows my nerves dance to the macarena, provoking my hands to shudder at a violent rate. Blood now deep smoky brown, swimming with creamers and granulated sugars pumping legal drugs through comatose veins. Meth would be more efficient but difficult to get a hold of, and more lethal. Wide eyes lined with deep purple bags, too lazy to hide them beneath drugstore concealers and too addicted to sleep them away.
By Ady Evans3 years ago in Fiction