Microfiction
Misconceptions and truth
Old Hai's daughter works in the provincial city, and the village is abuzz with rumors that his daughter has become a "celebrity speaker," earning a lot of money. Old Hai didn't understand what a "celebrity speaker" meant, so someone explained to him that they are like the announcers and hosts on TV; their job is to speak, and to put it colloquially, they make a living by talking. If they gain enough fame, people call them "celebrity speakers."
By John Bruce2 years ago in Fiction
A Dangerous Mission
Osbert, Nigel, and Phineus were on a mission. "This way, lads!" Osbert called out. "Which way?" Nigel grumbled. "We can't pissing see anything." Osbert was undeterred, charging ahead. "Follow your noses, then!" he said. "Follow me!" Nothing could put Nigel off, either. When he had a bellyful of bile, he was something of an Olympic whinger. He'd had his doubts about this quest from the start and he was working up a good head of steam to complain about it for several hours.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Break Up
And so he said "I don't want to be with you anymore" and I said "Why?" and he said "Because I don't think it's working" and I said "Is there someone else?" and he said "No" but he didn't know that I'd seen him with her from his work so I knew he was lying and so I said because I didn't want him to win and feel like he was the one who had all the control "Well, I have. Been seeing someone else" and he said "You fucking what?!"
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Dove’s Secret: A Prisoner’s Journey to Redemption
Reading that note, I was overcome with astonishment and joy that knew no bounds. My affection for the dove grew even stronger with each passing day. It soon became a routine—she would bring me a gift daily from my unseen friend.
By Sara Lorel2 years ago in Fiction
361 Memoirs of Eddie H. Christ, Jesus' Little Brother—"Come in Peace"
So let’s see. The Christmas star was so mysterious that no one would've guessed the real truth. There was that supernova theory, for which we can be thankful that we have stuff like Cesium in us—and iron doesn’t hurt none either. And then there are all the comet theories; there’s the hypothetical conjunctional conglomeration of three planets in the constellation Pisces.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
359 Christmas Eve and the Suspension of Disbelief
"Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 19:14 Is Christmas only for children? If you think so, you have lost some important hard-wiring in your brain. You're less human.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
358 Memoirs of Eddie H. Christ, Jesus' Little Brother: Virginity
The whole thing of virginity is so crazy. It’s not so much the state of an intact membrane serving to guard what everyone says is sacred and holy…and quite a good time. The hymen—and I’ve never seen one, mind you—is just a physical reminder of something else altogether. I guess it’s like the tamper-proof factory seal that says a woman is "saving herself" for the man of her life.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Farewell To an Interesting Year
”it was indeed an interesting year my good man.” Turning his cataract ridden eyes to his drinking companion, the old man sighed. “That it was my friend. That it was indeed.” Picking up his tumbler of Ancient Age he took a sip of the whiskey and looked around the bar. There were a fair number of patrons in attendance despite it being New Years Eve. A group of young people sat at a nearby table talking about sports, politics, sex, and work between bouts of searching the internet for drivel on their cell phones. Probably checking the latest Tik Tok challenges or insulting someone on Facebook, he thought drily. A group of men about mid forties pounded on the bar as they watched a football game on the huge overhead screen.
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction
Thinly Spread
Sandy spread the butter as sparsely as possible on the single piece of thinly sliced budget bread. She nibbled it, perhaps hoping that by eating for longer her body would be tricked into believing it had eaten more. This time last year she wouldn't have been caught eating something like this if you paid her. It would have to be artisanal sourdough, and avocado probably would have been involved. She combed her hair fastidiously, and fastened it in a simple low pony tail at the nape of her neck. The trademark messy bun would have been too recogniseable, especially now the darker colour had grown out. In any case, certain people had preconceived ideas about her, and as a result she didn't choose anything that looked in any way haphazard, as she once might. Her clothes were simple, ignorable, but well fitted and clean. Her worn sneakers were pristine. She counted out exactly the change she needed for the bus, the coins rattling like the toast crumbs in her belly. She locked her tiny flat carefully, though god knew there was nothing worth stealing. Zipping the key into its usual pouch inside her bag, she set off for the stop, already feeling exhausted. This was one reason she gave herself plenty of time to get there. It was also because she didn't want to arrive looking rushed or stressed. To appear perfectly organised, you had to BE perfectly organised. She also caught an earlier bus than she needed, just to be on the safe side. When she alighted, it was another short walk. She pressed the buzzer. "Sandy here. To see Wyatt, Summer and Matty." When they let her in, she sat in the waiting area, watching the hands crawl around the clock. Joy and nerves twisted in her gut, the combination feeling a lot like nausea. A smiling young woman in jeans and a flowery shirt escorted her to the bland room. The stickers applied to the pale walls hadn't done anything to cheer the place. If anything, they only underlined its dreariness. Sandy realised she was gnawing at her nails, and snatched her hands away from her mouth. When they arrived, they sloped reluctantly across the car park, the same smiling staff member with them, holding tight to Matty's hand. Sandy took this opportunity to study Karl's profile. Hoping, even now, to see a morsel of regret somewhere in his face. The older two were aloof, but Matty at least, she could drink in. She gave him a crushing hug, fit for three, and hid her tears in his mop of hair. Blinking furiously, she was dry-eyed when she straightened up again. She'd brought nail polish so she and Summer could paint each others nails, but the smile above that flowery shirt tightened and the woman shook her head. Last week, Sandy had brought home-baked brownies. The staff frowned at that as well. Wyatt grumbled he wanted something to play games on, but that wasn't allowed, either. He and Summer would've been happier on their phones. Both got them out more than once, ignoring Sandy's pleas to put them away. "Come on, guys. We don't get to see each other much, do we?" Eventually, the staff member backed her up, and they put them back in their pockets, if only for a short while. At the end of the visit, strained as it was, Sandy felt her heart pull as it tried to follow the three of them out of the door. Karl paused, eyes roaming over the building. He can't see me. The windows are one-way. I'm safe. She still flinched as if burned when his gaze passed over and through her. The woman, already hurrying back across the carpark, didn't see his smirk and smug wave. He got into the car with all the pieces of her heart, and drove away.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
