Microfiction
Just the Two of Us, My Darling - The Sequel
Part I of Just the Two of Us, My Darling (Forever) did not end well. You can read it here if you missed it: Tommaso held Azzurra in his arms as he started to weep. Deep soulful sobs. “Why, why, why,” he kept repeating to himself as he watched his love slipping away.
By Calvin London6 months ago in Fiction
Andreas Szakacs on Michael: An Actor’s Reflection on Legacy, Performance, and Emotion
As an actor, I didn’t approach this film as a historian or critic. I approached it as someone trying to understand performance, emotion, and the weight of becoming a legend. And in that sense, the film offers more questions than answers.
By Andreas szakacs6 months ago in Fiction
Drabble before I Skedaddle
Let’s see what’s going on: have done my taxes and most of the exam material is set and my students seem ready to face the reality of failure. Then I am going to finish up some entries for a very big contest that will offer a lot of money to the winner (I still have hope), after which I will get back to writing some real material for you know who. And the weather is great, my beloved Habs can turns things around in the playoffs, and that seems to be enough to get my thoughts into a complete drabble.
By Kendall Defoe 6 months ago in Fiction
Defying Freedom. Content Warning.
Rye had always been aware that her burden was much heavier than others'. That had been clear from the lifelong training she had endured under countless teachers, whom her parents had sent her to as soon as they could. These teachers taught her how to fight, how to pickpocket, how to blend in and be invisible. Yet, even though Rye despised the attention without the need to hide, she always managed to find herself at the center of attention, inducing drama. Whether it be her saving a girl from some old creep who had been following her, or battling a group of trouble-making fools choosing to cause a fuss in the market space. Rye knew she had been practically raised to be heartless and cold, but she couldn’t help but yearn to protect those who had no idea of the atrocities that hid just under their noses.
By Monica Carneiro6 months ago in Fiction








