Microfiction

Reincarnation
“I saw my reflection in the mirror. The gown still fitted like a glove. I closed my eyes. I was dancing in the ballroom. My hair was different. It was red. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
By Susan Fourtané 2 years ago in Fiction
Top Ten: remarkable experimental aircraft
The spectacular North American X-15 was the pinnacle of the US series of ever-faster X-planes. Despite the fact that the previous record was set in 1967, this unparalleled aircraft continues to be the fastest aircraft ever built with a human pilot. It was carried to a high altitude beneath the wing of its NB-52 mothership before being released at 45,000 feet at a speed of about 500 miles per hour. At that point, the aircraft's rocket propulsion would propel it to speeds exceeding Mach 6 and altitudes exceeding 100 kilometers.
By Shaeen Sarker2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of Yesterday
The year is 2077. Mumbai’s skyline, a jagged tapestry of skyscrapers piercing the ever-present smog, hummed with the electric thrum of a city that never slept. But in Elara’s small apartment in Bandra, a heavy silence reigned. The only light came from a holographic projector casting a ghostly blue glow on the cluttered room.
By hiteshsinh solanki2 years ago in Fiction
To Drink the Self
Your existence and death are not the ultimate truths, Eldric. What lies beyond death?" Eldric asked. Then what is the ultimate truth? Professor Loenov. True life begins only after death. Death is not the end, something far greater awaits you. The universe is vast and wondrous. What lies after death? You can witness and experience it yourself. Do you wish to?" prof. Asked. But Professor? That's not possible. People say death is the ultimate truth. No one knows what lies beyond. Who are these people? A crowd of fools. At least you understand that no one has made any great effort to find out. They’re afraid. They lie just to gain something petty here. Maybe you're lying too, Professor...? Maybe. But don’t you see? Something beyond life and death is possible in this universe. Maybe. But no one knows the truth behind the mystery. That mystery is you. And only you can unveil it. Me? How? The blood flowing in your veins is the most mysterious substance, it can lead you to that ultimate truth. I don’t understand, Professor. When you empty your body of its blood, you will enter a great energy cycle, and you’ll become part of the universe’s immense power. Professor Loenov, I don’t understand. Please explain simply, will it be heaven that I’ll become a part of? No. Something greater than heaven. And even that won’t be the end, it will just be the beginning of your journey. So, will I become immortal, Professor? No. You’ll gain power even greater than immortality. Then will only my soul travel through the universe? Since the soul is eternal. No. There is no such thing as a soul. Then how does death happen if the soul doesn’t exist? Death doesn’t happen. Only the body changes. And the so-called 'soul' is not something inside the body, it’s something else. Think of it as a kind of energy that creates thoughts, consciousness, emotions, and memories within every living being. Everything happens under a controlled process, and after a certain time, this energy merges back into the universe. And we call that death. Do you know what that energy is, Professor? No. But you can find out. I’ve seen signs in you, signs that will set you free and lead you on a great journey through the universe, where every answer awaits you. Why can't you go, Professor? Because I want to send you. Only a few people have the right combination of consciousness and energy to survive this journey. You are worthy. What do I have to do for this? It's simple. You have to extract your blood and drink it. That’s the only way you can witness and feel your journey as a conscious observer. "What?? Professor, this is stupid. I’m not doing that. Trust me. You won’t die from it. It’s just a small process. Sometime later, Eldric lies on the ground in a semi-conscious state. The professor walked over to him and said. Congratulations —Your journey is about to begin very soon.
By Karan w. 2 years ago in Fiction
Lenin's Birthday portrait
April 22 is the Birthday of Vladimir Lenin, the leader of the world's proletariat and the 1917 Bolshevik revolution. It always surprises me that Hitler's and Lenin's birthdays are so close, just one full day apart (April 20 and 22, respectively). Here's a Drabble illustrating how serious Lenin's cult was in the former Soviet Union. It is a loose translation of a story by Denis Dragunsky, a wonderful Russian children's books author, who remembered this episode from 1961:
By Lana V Lynx2 years ago in Fiction
The Silent Echoes
The small town of Eldridge had always been quiet, nestled at the foot of mist-covered hills. People there lived simple, peaceful lives—until the day the voice returned.
By Ishaq Ahmadzai 2 years ago in Fiction
Freedom
Finally, a moment to rest. They slow down, allowing their breath to catch up with them. Bloodstains frame the tears in their clothes. They wear muddy masks that hide their bruises. Both of them slump against the wall, slowly sliding to a seat. Whether it’s the adrenaline or the persistent pain flooding their bodies doesn’t matter. They can barely feel the jagged stone that forms the walls of the cavernous maze.
By Tales from a Madman2 years ago in Fiction
Specter.exe: Malfunction at Grimsby Manor
Chapter One: Welcome to Grimsby When wealthy tech mogul Dr. Victoria Grimsby died under extremely suspicious circumstances (i.e., launched 12 feet into the air during a VR meditation session), her sprawling estate was left to her one-of-a-kind invention: a robot butler named C.L.A.N.K. (Cognitive Lifeform for Assistance, Navigation, and Killing—ignore that last bit, it was a typo in the patent).
By E. hasan2 years ago in Fiction
Lips as Red as Blood
Hair as black as coal…skin as white as snow…lips as red as blood… Oh, if only people knew where the blood on those lips came from, maybe then I wouldn’t shackled to a wall, talking to myself as I wait for a trial I don’t deserve for a crime that…well, I did try to commit, but righteously so. Anyone would have done it if they knew what I do about that girl.
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Fiction
The cluckening. Content Warning.
No one ever expected the apocalypse to start at McFeather Farms. Certainly not Farmer Bill, whose biggest worry up to now had been whether his prized zucchini would win the blue ribbon at the county fair. But something was off this season. The sky had been an unsettling shade of green for three days, the cows were mooing in Latin, and the scarecrow kept turning its head slightly every time Bill walked past. And then there was the chicken coop. Bill had raised chickens for 32 years, and never had he seen one give him side-eye like that. Especially not Cluckles—the biggest, puffiest, sassiest hen in the flock. He had originally named her “Fluffy,” but after she pecked a fox to death and cackled at the funeral, the name just didn’t seem appropriate anymore. Lately, Cluckles had become… organized. The other chickens followed her in formation. They clucked in unison. Last Tuesday, Bill found what looked suspiciously like a ritual circle in the straw, complete with tiny bones and a single black feather stuck into a hard-boiled egg. “I must be losin’ it,” Bill mumbled as he tossed a scoop of feed into the coop, watching the chickens scatter like cult members late for a sacrifice. Then one night, he woke to a rhythmic tapping. Not from the window, no. From inside the walls. Tap. Tap. Cluck. Bill grabbed his flashlight and crept down the stairs, muttering, “Just raccoons. Probably raccoons. Maybe very… organized raccoons.” The kitchen door creaked open by itself. There, illuminated in a beam of light, was Cluckles. Standing upright. Wearing a tiny cape made of stitched-together corn husks. Her eyes glowed red. “Cluck,” she said. Bill screamed like a man who knew deep in his soul: the chicken had declared war. He fainted. When he woke up the next day, he thought all of this must have been a nightmare. Two days passed with no unusual activity except for cluckles being a menace pecking the cows again.
By E. hasan2 years ago in Fiction
I Accidentally Married My Boss in Vegas (And He Doesn’t Want an Annulment)
Chapter 1: The Tequila Incident The last thing I remembered before waking up in a penthouse suite was: Doing karaoke with my boss to I Will Always Love You (badly)
By Wiki Rjm2 years ago in Fiction
SpaceX Launch Creates Mesmerizing 'Nebula' in Sky: April 21, 2025, Space Picture of the Day
In a dazzling demonstration of technology meeting natural beauty, a recent SpaceX rocket launch painted an awe-inspiring image in the early morning skies, resembling the brilliant, swirling colors of a deep-space nebula. This captivating spectacle occurred during the company’s 32nd commercial resupply mission (CRS-32) to the International Space Station (ISS), solidifying SpaceX’s place not only as a trailblazer in aerospace technology but also as an unintentional artist of the cosmos.
By Sakibul Islam Sakib2 years ago in Fiction