Microfiction
Ella of the Cinders
The King is dead. The whispers started immediately after the royal funeral. The Queen sat at the front of the church, her lovely face obscured by a widow's veil, occasionally dabbing daintily at her eyes.
The Confession
"A Bomb?" was all Jason could mutter. "Yes, a bomb has been placed under the floor of this room, and it will detonate in one minute. it is powerful enough to destroy the entire room and kill everyone in it." Said the voice on the loudspeaker.
Roy TsukishimaPublished 2 days ago in FictionTwo Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
Lily SéjorPublished 2 days ago in FictionRoyal Misfortune
The banished princess had been living off the land for several weeks, by now. The forest was still testing her, showing little sympathy, but each evening felt less and less like death. Perhaps someday it could feel like home, she mused. Maybe after some time had passed she could venture into civilization in search of an ally. For the moment, she was on her own, and she was doing alright.
Rebekah ConardPublished 2 days ago in FictionA Whole Day
¶ The clock above the door read 10:02. ¶ As Mr. Sorin, the geography teacher, rambled on about some tristate area half a country away, Jake stared at the blackboard, trying to make sense of the map. The teacher, in his brilliance, had drawn the map sideways, with the compass to North pointing lazilily off to the right. Indeed, the teacher had gone the extra mile to turn the N into a Z, to match the orientation.
Malcolm RoachPublished 2 days ago in FictionThe Diary
Cute. How many people keep an actual diary anymore? This one is pale blue. It looks as though it had a furry cover, and a matching fluffy pen. It doesn’t, but it looks like it does.
L.C. SchäferPublished 2 days ago in FictionEchoes of Home: A Journey Through the Heartland
In the heart of the Heartland, where the amber waves of grain stretch to the horizon and the sky seems to embrace the earth in an endless embrace, there lies a quiet beauty that whispers tales of the past and promises of the future. It's a place where time moves a little slower, and the rhythms of life beat to the gentle cadence of the seasons.
Betsy GoehPublished 2 days ago in FictionExploring the Frontier: Unveiling the Wonders of Artificial Intelligence
Amidst the consistently changing mechanical scene and the wide expansiveness of the mechanized world, there is a characteristic that has mixed both supernatural occurrence and fear: man-made thinking (reproduced knowledge).
Kamran ButtPublished 2 days ago in Fiction120 "Your Prayers Are Very Important To Me."
Thank you for your faith. Your prayers are very important to me. Prayers will be answered in the order in which they were prayed. This call may be monitored for quality purposes.
Gerard DiLeoPublished 2 days ago in FictionSnow Need to Rush
I watched my breath form a small white cloud as it puffed out of my lips and dissipated before my eyes. I rubbed my hands together, blowing into them with the precious bit of warm air that remained in my lungs. My leg bounced as I stared into the cold dark world beyond the windows of my truck as they remained partially fogged up.
Donna Fox (HKB)Published 2 days ago in FictionThe Secret of the Bell Tower
Many long years had passed since someone last visited the Bell Tower. A man stood at its base with a paper clip in hand and a keen look in his eye - for it was he who planned to enter.
L.ClabroughPublished 3 days ago in FictionDrabbles #1: Lucy's Fear, Frozen, Reincarnation, and Revelations
A Drabble is a self-contained, flash-fiction story of exactly 100 words. A Drabble can be a simplified version of a longer work of fiction, or what started as a Drabble can become the inspiration for a longer short story, even for a novel.
Susan FourtanéPublished 3 days ago in Fiction