Microfiction
Strange Plums
No one could have told you exactly how long the old, red plum tree in the meadow had been standing right where it was, swaying in the breeze each day, but suffice it to say it had been quite some time. No one in town could remember a day when the tree hadn’t stood there – big, tall, and impossibly knarled like the fairy knots in your hair after a fitful sleep. Everyone had heard at least one story that connected that tree with some suspicious happening in town.
By Shannon Hilson4 months ago in Fiction
Gossip. Content Warning.
What You Heard "What an awful man" "Did you hear how he treated her?" "I heard something, it's no wonder what she did" "Yeah, did you see him, he said that she gave him that black eye and stabbed him, she would never do that. She is such a good quiet soul and is at mass every Sunday. Father Jack says she is a saint because she does so much good and is so kind to people"
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 months ago in Fiction
Free Will. Top Story - July 2026.
The air was as crisp as a dragon fly’s wings and Lancington Lake dutifully reflected all the surrounding lights in the spring air. It gave a yawn of forgiveness for the encroaching darkness, swallowing its memories of so many people who now found it warm enough during the day to swim in its fold. Too cold to swim in now, there were people in all manner of laissez-faire out fittings sitting idly and wistfully at its edges.
By Paul Aaron Domenick4 months ago in Fiction
One More Turn
The steel valve fought Leonid’s trembling fingers. Everything tasted metallic, and instinctively, Leonid knew the shaking in his legs was unaffiliated with the temperature of the now waist-deep waste. The implication sat like graphite in his throat.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 months ago in Fiction
The Dark Car Park
Introduction On our recent trip to Whitby Fiona got lost descending from Whitby Abbey (a former haunt of Dracula), she was perturbed by the steps on the estate block which might have led to a dark car park. Matt and Craig, our hosts told us about wanderings in some Whitby estates where if you are "not one of them" you are subjected to baleful glares from the locals. To these scenarios, I have added some elements of a Cristopher Fowler short story about a driver in an underground car park.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 months ago in Fiction
A Toast to the World’s Greatest Nation
[Clinks glass] Wow. What can I say that hasn’t already been said? We’ve finally reached 250 years. After first the Civil War and then the past 10 years, it didn’t seem like we would, but we did. Now we only have, what, another 150 years until we match the British Empire’s record? And 1,230 years until we reach the Roman Empire’s?
By Stephanie Hoogstad4 months ago in Fiction
A Toast to the Freest Nation on Earth
Please raise your glasses. And your phones, because someone's definitely live-streaming this. To America: 250 years young, perpetually arguing, occasionally brilliant, and somehow still here. We were born telling a king where to stick his crown, which is a genuinely remarkable origin story.
By Lana V Lynx4 months ago in Fiction
Kid's Questions
Putin visits a middle school. Trying to be friendly, he said, "Ask me anything, I'll answer all your questions." Vanya raised his hand, "I have three questions. First, who killed Litvinenko? Second, why are people in Russia so poor? Third, who poisoned Navalny?"
By Lana V Lynx4 months ago in Fiction
