Microfiction

The Quibbler
He couldn't keep up with the grading. The papers multiplied like hamsters. So many were generated by ChatGPT and its ilk, he could tell after reading a single sentence that the remainder of the paper would be synthetic swill. Most citations were fictional. Title pages abounded, though the holy edict of The MLA Style Guide forbade them.
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Fiction
Monstrosity. Content Warning.
People call me a monster, they saw what I did, what I became … what I literally became. They screamed, grabbed hold of their children and ran screaming from me, and they should.
By Savannah K. Wilson2 years ago in Fiction
Spacewalker
A spacewalk, that's what they named it when space was first ventured to and explored. People now lived on spaceships, but the name spacewalk had still stuck whenever someone went out.
By Liam Storm2 years ago in Fiction
Captain Whiskers and the Treasure of the Seven Seas
In the bustling port town of Whisker Bay, tales of a legendary pirate cat named Captain Whiskers were whispered among sailors and townsfolk alike. Captain Whiskers was no ordinary feline; he was a fearless adventurer with a heart as vast as the ocean and a crew of loyal animals who followed him to the ends of the earth. Captain Whiskers was known for his striking appearance. His fur was a deep, midnight black, with a single white patch over his left eye, giving him a perpetual look of mischief. His emerald green eyes sparkled with cunning and intelligence, and his sharp claws were always ready for action. He wore a tiny tricorn hat and a red bandana around his neck, which fluttered in the sea breeze as he stood at the helm of his ship, the “Purr-l Pearl.” The Purr-l Pearl was a magnificent vessel, crafted from the finest wood and adorned with intricate carvings of sea creatures. Its sails were as white as the clouds, and the Jolly Roger flag, featuring a skull and crossbones with a pair of crossed fishbones, flew proudly from the mast. The crew of the Purr-l Pearl was a motley bunch, consisting of animals from all corners of the world. There was Polly the parrot, who served as the lookout, Scruffy the squirrel, the ship’s cook, and Barnacle the bulldog, the muscle of the crew. One sunny morning, as the Purr-l Pearl docked at Whisker Bay, Captain Whiskers received a mysterious letter. The parchment was old and tattered, and the writing was barely legible. It spoke of a hidden treasure buried on a remote island, known only as the Isle of Whiskers. The treasure was said to be guarded by ancient traps and protected by a fearsome sea monster. Captain Whiskers’ eyes gleamed with excitement as he read the letter aloud to his crew. “Arr, me hearties! We set sail for the Isle of Whiskers at dawn!” Captain Whiskers declared, his voice filled with determination. The crew cheered and hurried to prepare the ship for the journey. As the sun rose the next day, the Purr-l Pearl set sail, cutting through the waves with ease. The journey was long and perilous, with the crew facing fierce storms and treacherous waters. But Captain Whiskers’ unwavering spirit kept them going, and they finally reached the Isle of Whiskers. The island was shrouded in mist, and the air was thick with the scent of salt and mystery. Captain Whiskers led his crew ashore, their paws sinking into the soft sand. They followed the clues from the letter, navigating through dense jungles and rocky cliffs. Along the way, they encountered various challenges, from quicksand pits to hidden traps. But with Captain Whiskers’ sharp instincts and the crew’s teamwork, they overcame each obstacle. As they ventured deeper into the island, they heard a low, rumbling growl. The ground trembled beneath their paws, and a massive sea monster emerged from the depths of a hidden lagoon. The creature had scales as dark as the night and eyes that glowed with an eerie light. It let out a deafening roar, sending shivers down the spines of the crew. “Stand your ground, mates!” Captain Whiskers commanded, drawing his tiny sword. “We must face this beast if we are to claim the treasure!” The crew rallied behind their captain, ready to fight. Polly the parrot swooped down, distracting the monster with her colorful feathers, while Barnacle the bulldog charged forward, his powerful jaws snapping. Scruffy the squirrel darted around, using his agility to outmaneuver the creature. Captain Whiskers, with his quick reflexes and sharp claws, struck the final blow, sending the sea monster retreating back into the lagoon. With the monster defeated, the crew continued their journey and finally reached the hidden cave where the treasure was buried. The entrance was guarded by ancient runes, but Captain Whiskers deciphered them with ease. Inside the cave, they found chests overflowing with gold coins, sparkling jewels, and priceless artifacts. The crew’s eyes widened with awe and delight as they beheld the treasure. “Arr, we’ve done it, me hearties!” Captain Whiskers exclaimed, his voice echoing through the cave. “The treasure of the Isle of Whiskers is ours!” The crew celebrated their victory, their hearts filled with pride and joy. They loaded the treasure onto the Purr-l Pearl and set sail for Whisker Bay, their spirits high. As they sailed into the sunset, Captain Whiskers stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “Adventure awaits, me friends,” he said with a smile. “And as long as we have each other, there’s no challenge we can’t overcome.” And so, the legend of Captain Whiskers and his brave crew continued to grow, inspiring generations of adventurers to follow their dreams and seek out the treasures of the seven seas.
By Henry2 years ago in Fiction
232 The Good Girl
I'm a good girl. Barefoot and pregnant, I await my man in anticipation. His slippers ready, I've mixed his Scotch and water perfectly.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
Requiem's Prelude. Content Warning.
The worlds of super 'heroes' and 'villains' has been saturated with cliches and tropes that those with abilities feel pressured to follow and adhere to. Not I. My powers were borne from one singular act of senseless and brutal violence. As I lay on the urine-flooded floor of my toilet cubical deathbed, blood pooling from my mouth and several other gaping wounds, mixing with the brown, green and yellow creating a Pollack-esque artwork beneath my broken body, I felt nothing and everything. All at once.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
"The Vanishing Virtuoso"
Amelia's fingers danced across the piano keys, creating a mesmerizing melody that captivated the audience. She was a renowned pianist, known for her technical skill and emotional depth. But what the audience didn't know was that Amelia possessed a mysterious gift – the ability to make objects vanish with a mere touch. As she played the final notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, Amelia reached out to adjust the position of a vase on the piano. In that fleeting moment of contact, the vase disappeared into thin air, leaving the audience in awe and confusion. Word of the incident spread like wildfire, attracting both admirers and skeptics. Some believed it to be a mere illusion, while others saw it as a manifestation of Amelia's musical prowess transcending into the realm of the supernatural. Amelia herself was bewildered by her newfound ability and sought answers to unravel the mystery. She spent hours experimenting, trying to understand the connection between her music and the vanishing objects. She practiced in front of mirrors, recorded herself, and even consulted with fellow musicians, but the answer remained elusive. One stormy night, a shadowy figure appeared at Amelia's doorstep. It was an old man with weathered features and eyes that seemed to hold ancient wisdom. He introduced himself as a collector of rare talents and revealed that he had been following Amelia's journey closely. He spoke of a long-forgotten legend of a virtuoso who possessed the power to make objects disappear through the purity of her music. Intrigued yet wary, Amelia listened as the old man recounted tales of the Virtuoso's Curse – a gift bestowed upon those whose music could move the heavens but came at a grave price. "The curse is a double-edged sword," the old man said, his voice low and mysterious. "It brings unparalleled success, but at the cost of one's very soul. Are you prepared to pay the price, Amelia?" Amelia was torn. Part of her was drawn to the allure of the curse, the promise of unparalleled success and recognition. But another part of her was terrified, sensing the darkness that lurked beneath the surface. The old man offered Amelia a choice – to embrace her gift and unlock its full potential or to renounce it and live a normal life free from its burden. Caught between fascination and fear, Amelia knew that her decision would shape her destiny. With resolve in her heart and music in her soul, she chose to confront the mystery head-on. As she played the piano that night, a crescendo of emotions surged through her, and with a final flourish, the room was filled with a blinding light. When the light faded, the old man was gone, and in his place stood the vanished objects – a testament to Amelia's acceptance of her extraordinary gift. From that day on, Amelia's music resonated with a newfound depth, captivating audiences not just with her talent but with the magic that dwelled within her. As her fame grew, so did the whispers of the Virtuoso's Curse. Some said that Amelia's music came at a terrible cost, that with each performance, she lost a piece of herself. Others claimed that she was cursed, that her gift was a result of a dark bargain. But Amelia knew the truth – that her music was a gift, a manifestation of her soul. She played on, pouring her heart and magic into every performance. And with each note, she felt herself becoming one with the music, her spirit soaring on the wings of melody. The vanished objects became a signature part of her shows, a testament to her unique gift. And though the whispers of the curse continued, Amelia knew that she had made the right choice. For in the world of music, she had found her true magic. As the months passed, Amelia's fame reached new heights. She performed to sold-out crowds, her name on everyone's lips. But with each performance, she felt the weight of the curse growing heavier. She began to sense that she was losing herself, that the music was consuming her. One night, after a particularly grueling show, Amelia stumbled upon an ancient tome hidden away in her dressing room. The book was bound in black leather, adorned with strange symbols that seemed to shimmer in the dim light. As she opened the book, Amelia discovered that it was the diary of a virtuoso from centuries past – a musician who had also possessed the gift of making objects vanish. The diary spoke of the curse, of the terrible price that must be paid for such power. Amelia read on, devouring the words as if they held the key to her very salvation. And as she read, she began to understand the true nature of the curse – that it was not a blessing, but a test. The curse was a challenge, a push to see how far Amelia would go to pursue her passion. It was a reminder that true art came at a cost, that the pursuit of perfection demanded sacrifice. With this newfound understanding, Amelia approached
By kylie fed2 years ago in Fiction
Vespertilia
There were a lot of things that Paulina Rívera didn't expect to happen. She didn't expect that her 10 year marriage would be over, and she also didn't expect that her ex-husband, Randall West, would move on with another woman. Paulina often claims that she was cheated on, but all of that was always in her head. Despite having no evidence at all, and her friends knowing that she habitually makes meritless accusations, Paulina expected to be believed.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
THE SERAPHIM RISE
In the quiet, coastal town of Havenport, life was serene, almost too peaceful. The townsfolk went about their days without realizing the ancient secret buried beneath the cliffs—a secret that would soon be awakened.
By Aifuwa Emmanuel2 years ago in Fiction
Shakespeare in Love
I loved Shakespeare but when he turned up on my doorstep to declare his love, I was more than a little surprised. He wasn't dressed to impress, or at least, not me, in his ruff and tights. I'm no Elizabeth. He was just drawing attention to himself.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Room
The room with the two windows and the brick floor and plaster walls. What could this room have been in the past. To me it could have been a garden room for what was left on the wall under and around the wall seem to indicate plants of some kind. Someone is still using this room for the plant on the windowsill is flourishing. The room is waiting, but for what for such a small room. Who could the owner of this room? Is it a man or woman or maybe a child with plans of some kind for it.
By Mark Graham2 years ago in Fiction
Coracao. Top Story - August 2024.
Coracao could reach into your chest, remove your heart, and place it in her own. Simple as that - ignoring the carnage of having your chest penetrated by a foreign hand, heart ripped away from your ribs with subsequent massive fucking blood loss, and another heart reconnected to your loose veins. What was her point in switching your hearts?
By Ariana GonBon2 years ago in Fiction