Microfiction

Life in a Flash
Serena had her radio turned up loud. Loud enough that the car next to hers knew that she was listening to Taylor Swift. It was a long day, she had so many clients come into her office that day and was glad to get out. Being a psychologist is fun, but draining. Helping people everyday is completely emotionally exhausting and she was glad to be done work. Her friends had been texting her non-stop trying to plan Katie’s birthday. Serena could only answer in between clients and when she put it away in her purse she could hear the buzz buzz coming from the inside pocket of her purse begging for her attention. Serena tried to ignore it as best she could, as soon as she got in her car she checked the messages that came in.
By Adrianna M. Braun3 years ago in Fiction
Gentle Giant Gathers Gold Gestating Goose
Their animals' calls awoke them early that morning. Before they could hear it, they felt them. "Quit shakin' the bed, Gaspar!" She violently kicked him.
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Fiction
The Egg And The Carton
It was a fragile shell I didn’t want to break. But my clumsy hands and a faulty egg carton dropped that egg anyway. Now, I had to clean up the yolky oozing mess before it dried and became like glue.
By Amethyst Champagne3 years ago in Fiction
Chance in a million
I can see them through this crack. It isn’t much but it’s just enough to peek through. I must keep quiet or they’ll find me, but I know it won’t be long.
By L.Clabrough3 years ago in Fiction
The Good Samaritan. Top Story - April 2024. Content Warning.
"But I don't know how to drive!" "Please! You have to help me!" "I've only ever been in a go-kart! There's too many pedals!"
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
Solitude Is Best Served Stuffed
In-person job interviews were a tedious, waste of time, anxiety-filled task. If you wanted me for my resume and were lured by my phone conversing skills, then you should have already made up your mind about accepting me onto your customer service team. It was an at-home work position anyhow. Why would you need me to leave said home?
By Oneg In The Arctic3 years ago in Fiction
Hush
I was flung back against the wall and the door slammed behind me. I was conscious of a rising dread, one that only increased as I looked around. The room was creepily neat and tidy, but it was not clean. Dark stains, brownish, spattered the cement walls and stone floor. The bed against the wall looked clean enough, and it was surprisingly large and soft. For a room that looked singularly like a cell, the bed was out of place.
By ThatOne_Girl3 years ago in Fiction
A DEAD MAN’S DANDELION. Content Warning.
I am going to die tomorrow, so what do I do today? It’s an important question, because what if I just do nothing? Nothing too important—nothing too time consuming—nothing too enlightening, I hate nothing and I hate knowing nothing. I am going to die tomorrow, so today I will live. What does it mean to live exactly? To be alive? Is all you need breath in your lungs and wonder in your eyes? I think so.
By Harleen 🤎3 years ago in Fiction
A Mother’s Call
I watch as my five year old learns to ride his bike. Dad’s running behind him keeping him steady. My heart’s in my throat because inevitably my baby is going to take a tumble.
By Colleen Millsteed 3 years ago in Fiction
118 Pr'oxymorons in the Workforce
FROM WICKEDPEDIA: PROXYMORONSProximorons have now entered the workforce and have become well established with the fall of Propriety-and-Sobriety Party in the 2030s. The proxymorons were those equipped to navigate contradictions within unique job descriptions. They were a natural result of the subspecialization of professions like Military Intelligence, Solo Team Captains, Jumbo Shrimp Distributors, and Alpha-Acolytes.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
The Musical Tinkle Of Broken Glass
The breaking of glass tinkles from afar but it piques my curiosity. I wander to the window and gaze at the house on my right. There are two large windows broken, like gaping eyes.
By Colleen Millsteed 3 years ago in Fiction
Makeup and Bus Stops: A Microfiction.
The bus was due at 9:30 in the morning, and I had ten minutes before I had to leave. I used those ten minutes to perfect my dress and makeup before heading out the door to meet my hot date.
By Carol Ann Townend3 years ago in Fiction