Microfiction
The Millenial Partner
The French baguette sits on the counter next to the fruit bowl and I can’t resist it. I let my teeth sink into the flakey baked dough, leaving a flurry of crumbs behind. I know Geneviève will tell me off later. I sometimes wonder why she even lets me live with her. She’s always moaning about men and their child-like qualities, saying things like, “If I wanted kids, I would’ve had one by now. What I want is a partner. Someone who pulls their own weight.”
By Kendra Marya2 years ago in Fiction
Life in paradise. Top Story - March 2025.
I wake up on our anniversary to see those eyes, his beautiful blue eyes. And the way the sun glistens off his ebony skin, it could stop anyone's heart. Still I don't believe he is mine. He has always been too good to me. He gently brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and his touch still sends electricity through each nerve ending. He is fucking incredible. I remember our wedding 20 years ago, I was a true bridezilla. He says I was perfection, but of course the other person is always viewed as perfect in the puppy love phase. Yet, to this day he still calls me perfection. He made me breakfast in bed. A BLT with extra bacon, my favorite. I kiss him and thank him for the thoughtful card, then I reach in the desk and hand him his. The dimples in his smile never get old. We cuddle and make sweet passionate love for the next hour. We would stay in bed all day if we could, but we have to get Zoe up and ready for school. She's in her senior year of highschool. My god how time flies. I will always be grateful I was lucky enough to raise such an amazing girl. I'll miss our cuddles and dance offs forever. Now I get the basic hugs, but that's enough for me. Her sweetheart Jayden Is the one who gets her love these days. He's such a great kid. They were accepted into the same college. I really think they might marry one day. Zoe comes into the kitchen as I'm making her eggs, and what's left of the bacon. Wow, she looks so much like her father. Long black hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples a little smaller than his. I'd almost be jealous of him if she wasn't so beautiful. *** Another 20 years have passed. We aren't the same youthful couple we once were. Yet he still calls me perfection. And I was right, Zoe did marry her sweetheart. Now they have their own little one, Isabelle. Somehow it must have skipped a generation, because she looks so much like myself. I smile as I watch them play. I look over at my husband, and he is already looking at me. We smile and communicate our love non-verbally. He grabs my hand, and places a gentle kiss on it as we- *** I feel like a jolt of electricity just hit me, and I see nothing but white light. I call for my daughter and husband, but I hear another familiar voice. My sisters yelling something. After a moment my vision starts to clear, and when I see my surroundings, reality starts sinking in. “Why did you do that??” I shout at her. It's dangerous to disconnect without finishing the simulation!” I yell. But that's not really why I'm angry with her. “Your husband and Zoe are gone… you can't keep living in a fake future." “Please sis, let me just one more time.”
By Tressa Rose2 years ago in Fiction
Breaking News
For longtime anchorwoman Regina Aston, this ongoing story was quite gripping, but it increased her stock on the network. That was the last thing she had on her mind, as her only focus was on preparing herself to report the incoming developments on this continuing story, which involved the shocking murder of a woman named Natalie Becker, who was found stabbed to death inside her home a week prior.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
The Things We Leave Behind
The factory loomed like a beast in the half-light, its ribs rusted steel beams, its breath thick with oil and sweat. The air inside was heavy, pressed down by the clatter of machines and murmurs of tired voices. The children labored in silence, heads down, hands quick. The foremen watched from walkways above, eyes like gun barrels scanning for weakness.
By Ashley Ball2 years ago in Fiction
Habits Die Hard
What others have may not be what we need. MIchelle Liew ************************************************************ Harold had a unique talent---he mimicked traits to perfection. An eyelift, a glance, twitch of the eyebrow--once he did so, the habit was his to keep.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin2 years ago in Fiction
The Book Signing
She was sitting. That was all she was doing. A table, a pen, her books - they were her only companions. She had been so excited about today. This is my moment, she thought as she bustled about. In a couple of hours, she'd be able to bask in the validation that she would receive.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
