Microfiction
Pugilistic Portrait
"Are you alright, sir?" I felt as if I had been punched by a heavyweight, and one without gloves at that. I tried to focus. I was propped up on a low chair or stool of some sort and was looking up at a middle-aged man who seemed somehow familiar. There was nothing familiar about my surroundings.
By Raymond G Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
Big red bus
Bold, red, the London bus stood at the bus stop, as countless people streamed off into the day, with no thought for each other, just to get to their destination. One solitary figure hopped aboard, climbing the narrow steps to the top platform, where a seat awaited. What would the day bring? She didn’t like to think about it, just watch the wet streets glide by.
By Raymond G Taylor3 months ago in Fiction
Nighthawks
"Last call," the man behind the counter joked as he sat my cup of black coffee down in front of me. I knew it was polite to laugh, or even smile, but I didn't. Couldn't. Not yet. I still had on my slicker and hat. A fedora pulled down low to cover my eyes. To cover what was behind them.
By Raine Fielder3 months ago in Fiction
Chapter One. Top Story - July 2026.
Last Call - The Prompt: Write a story inspired by the phrase "last call." "Last call" can mean different things depending on who's listening. It might be the end of a night, one final opportunity, or the moment someone realizes they're almost out of time. Write a story inspired by the phrase "last call." You can interpret it however you like. Set it in a bar, an airport, a hospital, a small town, or somewhere entirely unexpected. Focus on what happens when the clock is running out. Whether your characters seize the moment, hesitate, or let it slip away, let that sense of urgency drive the story.
By Denise E Lindquist3 months ago in Fiction
"Stay King-Free!"
On behalf of Great Britain, congratulations on 250 years of independence. It was a rather dramatic breakup, but we've all said things in our youth. Tea was thrown, wigs were powdered, and someone insisted that no free people should ever bow to a king again.
By Lana V Lynx3 months ago in Fiction
The unlabelled jar
Chantal arrived at the shared house for a month; she immediately helped herself to everything. Entitled, ignoring boundaries, she went through shelves and foods that weren’t hers. She used anything from oats to unlabelled glass containers--she disliked plastic.
By Susan Fourtané 3 months ago in Fiction
Stalin and a Fortuneteller
Stalin's assistant enters his office, "Comrade Stalin, there is a man here who wants to see you about something important for our great country. He claims to be able to see the future with perfect accuracy!" Stalin takes a puff from his pipe, and gives his order, "Execute him." The assistant passes the order. Minutes after, the man is executed. Later, the assistant asks obsequiously, "Comrade Stalin, why did you order that man to be executed?" Stalin looks at him calmly and responds, "If he could really see the future, he should have seen this coming. I can't stand charlatans."
By Lana V Lynx3 months ago in Fiction
Three Sandwiches
“At a wake, mourners may eat no more than three sandwiches” * Senator T.C. R. Noble: So, it was really hot and Old Man Keller’s funeral was the biggest event in town and Madame Curry’s bakery provided all the fixings for a feast for the parishioners. What we didn’t know was that the Gordon Sisters (you know who) would be there to inhale so much before anyone could even see the tables that you would hear stomachs grumbling from here to Nashville. That made a lot of people really red in the face and hot in the head so there were fists flying, legs kicking and even dogs got into it. Poor things kept getting chased away from the tables like it was their fault and my own Rufus…he got hurt. Now, I don’t care what they do when they have a funeral in my church and they are all respectful, but when they go after the dogs, I have to put my foot down! I know that you are going to handle this in court, but don’t forget the rest of us who are just trying to do God’s will and remember the miracles and the loaves and fishes. Maybe if people remembered that they had to share things out, these things wouldn’t happen. And maybe if the judges in this state actually gave us a number – something like the Trinity – there would be real peace when a life passes on.
By Kendall Defoe 3 months ago in Fiction
