Microfiction
Madhana Sundari -1
In the remote village of Panchali, where ancient whispers lingered in the shadows, there stood an abandoned mansion, its halls echoing with a tragic tale. The villagers spoke in hushed tones about Madhana Sundari, a woman whose beauty was only surpassed by the malevolence that gripped her soul.
By Keyur Porecha3 years ago in Fiction
Afterlife
Afterlife In just 60 seconds, my life changed forever. A decade later, the defining minute is still vividly imprinted in my memory. Some may mock as I share this story, even though some of those who laugh will be religious and have their own belief in their afterlife.
By Alyson Smith 3 years ago in Fiction
Lily
Lily looked out the window and sighed, dropping her embroidery. There was nothing truly interesting to do within the walls of her father’s castle. She glanced back at the door, and in a moment of unrestrained rage, she suddenly flung the sampler out the window. It spun out over the trees that crawled right up to the foot of her tower, and disappeared into the dark foliage. She wanted so badly to do the same.
By ThatOne_Girl3 years ago in Fiction
Ostriches of Autumn
_____________________ She's a young bird with an old soul. Sings the old ways. Croons for the lonely. With her long o's and her bittersweet odes. She's got laments to keep herself pining, like a momma bird twitching, picking up sticks and newborn scars.
By Christy Munson3 years ago in Fiction
Waiting for the Ice. Content Warning.
This story comes with a Dharrsheena warning I sit and I wait. White bear is with me. He sits and waits too. He is hungry like me. I keep my distance as he would tear me apart in a heartbeat, crush me in his jaws like the furry meat morsel I am to him. Sometimes, I forget and he moves and I dash away, using what little energy I have left.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
The Singer So Shy. Second Place in Just a Minute Challenge. Top Story - May 2024. Content Warning.
She stood near the cold fireplace, watching the second-hand tick down to the hour. In another minute, the clock's bird would emerge and warble the hour. She reached up and touched the clock, tracing the gentle slope of the farmhouse roof, then trailing down the lilac strewn side, to the white fence framed dooryard. She wished she was there, where the air would smell of lilacs rather than smoke.
By Judah LoVato3 years ago in Fiction
All the Memories
Oh my God, I love him, I love him, I love him. How can this happen, how can I have made this decision to end his life? How can it be real that he will never again open his eyes and smile at me? That we will never laugh together again? That we will never again talk about our day, our experiences, our feelings together?
By Karen Cave3 years ago in Fiction
