Microfiction
I have a story to tell, but I might not make it out of here alive.
I have a story to tell, but I might not make it out of here alive. Everything feels very cramped. I don’t really feel like I have a ton of rights at the moment. Some days, I just listen and listen and listen… I hear the humdrum of voices and other sounds on the other sides of these walls. The conversations that people have around me don’t really make a lot of sense in my mind. They are just words, I guess. Some voices are kind of familiar. Every now and then, there are new voices that I don’t recognize.
By Rowan Finley 2 years ago in Fiction
P̴̣̞̩͓͕̏̕ö̷̰͖͓͇͉̩̆̍̃͝p̶̡̟̓
I remember when I was a little kid and I used to get a sip of Coke from my grandpa. This is how he became known as Pop. He didn’t let my parents see because they were strict about no caffeinated drinks for little kids. They were lame about it, honestly. He’d always give me the first sip of his Coke pop. Boy, did I feel special! I felt like a king. In that moment, every time, I was a king. I’d look up at his white whiskers, smiling like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. It was our little secret.
By Rowan Finley 2 years ago in Fiction
Burning for You
Even the very thought of this man had me in a smiling frenzy. The way his gorgeous emerald-green eyes crinkled as he would smile. Those luscious golden-brown curls that would always somehow manage to take shape, even in the windiest of days. He was my person, and I love to think that I was his as well. Although... It wasn't always like this. The day I first met Helm, I swore to God that I'd hate him forever. He drove me absolutely bananas just by doing something as simple as breathing too much. To this day, I still haven't a single clue as to why he'd drive me up the walls. Just that I couldn't even as much as glance as the man without feeling furious with him for whatever reason. He'd do as little as yawn while looking in my direction, and I'd have steam blowing out of my ears. Nowadays, he and I tend to laugh about it... cracking up jokes as we both would mock how much his tiny antics drove me crazy. Now, he'll tell me constantly how he used to do whatever he could to get my attention... an attempt that typically ended in failure due to my complete and utter annoyance with anything he'd do. Even today, he still tells me that he's just going to use those little stories to help motivate our child to never give up on what he wants in life.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet2 years ago in Fiction
