Microfiction
253 Hanging by a Thread. Top Story - September 2024.
I made my bed and slept in it. I insisted on a thread count of 500, at least. And none of that two-ply stuff. I felt I deserved it. I wanted the finer things in life, and I achieved them per every square inch. I slept well. As I slept on, day after day, year after year, and epiphany after epiphany, I self-educated on the important things in life in my night-by-night respite.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Meter Maid
He was inside and I could see his nervous buddy tapping the steering wheel when I pointed at the meter and told him that if he got there about an hour later he would have been okay and I wouldn't have to take down his information, but he didn't even see me at all (did he?). And then I looked over at the store that just closed and could see the other one inside under the security lights. So, I could see him through those double thick glass windows loading up as he walked around the store, his bag on his back getting bigger and bigger and no one noticing a thing about him taking everything and anything he wanted (was anyone even working? no security?) And there I was with the car and he just ran out to his buddy waiting for him without really noticing me and the ticket I just put under the windshield. At least it was still there and I had a copy of it all for the police (the security camera would help too, but that was under the lights, but my ticket was probably better for them). Sometimes this job really does make you feel like you are spreading some sort of goodness in this world. Pay your tickets!
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Fiction
Three Ex-Yard Gnomes and a Homemade Pizza
Three yard gnomes named Jolly, Squally, and Polycarp lived on a shady front lawn. The lawn belonged to an old raisin-of-a-woman named Sadie O'Grady. Her name doesn't really matter though because this story is about the three yard gnomes. One day Squally squealed by exclaiming, "I'm terribly tired of this job, standing still as a statue all day on this boring, old, shady lawn! There is a whole wide world out there that we've just got to explore!”
By Rowan Finley 2 years ago in Fiction
West Coast Gold. Top Story - September 2024.
A/N: This is a story I entered a few weeks back for writingbattle.com. The challenge was to use the prompts pictures above and write a story in 250 words or less. Enjoy, and please consider entering yourself for their next battle!
By Kenny Penn2 years ago in Fiction
Reset. Content Warning.
His hand hovered over the button. He didn't know what'd happen if he pressed it; only that he'd get the reset he wanted. Would someone die? He thought about Evie, and the kids (all those fucking kids). He didn't hate them. He just wished he'd never... He didn't want to be a part of it any more.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
It's the little things
She wasn't the prettiest of girls, in fact she was pretty plain. Dark brown hair, just below her shoulders, average height, and most other girls would tease her for being "underdeveloped". She didn't mind not being popular, actually she preferred it, because she didn't feel like she fit in with any clique. So she stayed buried in her books, and continued to write her poems. That's why he fell for her, the most popular guy in school no less. She wasn't like the rest, she didn't pull the front of her shirt a bit lower when he came walking down the hall, nor did she try and impress him by making gossip about the other students. She didn't care about any of the worries most teens do these days. No, she kept her head down with her pen in hand. That's how he realized how special she was. One day while pulling her books out of the locker, a paper fell out. He went to pick it up and hand it to her, but she was around the corner before he could lean back up. He knew he shouldn't... but he slowly peeled it open anyways. "Where am I? Who are we? Why do we live in misery? Defined by our mistakes? Enslaved by hate? When will we learn to just appreciate?" He may have been the popular one who every girl idolized, and every other guy wanted to be, but inside he felt just as alone and lost as she. A small grin crossed his face, "Little thief, you just stole my heart."
By Tressa Rose2 years ago in Fiction
Mum. Content Warning.
I don't know where I am. Smoke rises around me. I'm strapped, seated but I'm in the open air. Blue sky. I can hear crackling, something's burning. And birds. There's an oval window next to me and a torn wall. I am dazed. Perhaps those birds are the ones you see in cartoons around heads when someone's been hit?
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Alpha, Romeo
"Please, you've got to help me. You've got to run." The stink of him was easier to tolerate on two legs. Human noses are weak. The sense was already fading. Scrunched in this awkward position, in the cramped dog crate for several hours, my only thought was getting free. "What... what happened to you?" he stammered. "No time to explain," I insisted, ignoring his abs, which, frankly, looked photoshopped on. "She'll be back any moment. We need to get out of here." The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He fumbled with the latch on the crate. I stumbled out, legs weak and stiff. I grabbed the man's arm for support, and pulled him towards the back door. We slipped out into the cool night air. I took a deep breath, and another. Glorious lungfuls of crisp, star-sprinkled freedom. We ran through the garden, grass damp under our bare feet. "Where are we going?" the man hissed. "Anywhere but here," I replied. "We need to find somewhere safe, somewhere she can't find us. Before she does it to you, too." I looked this way and that, glanced over my shoulder. I felt the urgency crackle off my skin and infect him. "Does what?" "The same thing she did to me..." I trailed off. How to explain without sounding insane? My mind raced. I couldn't go back to that life, no matter how much I loved her. Not after what had happened. I had to stay a Man. This was the only way to keep this resolve. Jealousy still burned in me, though. While I was crammed into a cage, this (alpha, Romeo, complete prat) was fucking my wife.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
