Microfiction

The Haunted Riverbed
The dried-up river – in Zhang Zhiyong's hometown, there is a riverbed that remains dry at all times, appearing eerie and mysterious. According to local elders, during the period of the Sino-Japanese War, the bodies of villagers killed were thrown into that riverbed. After a few days, mysteriously, the bodies disappeared. Since then, the riverbed never saw a drop of water, not even during heavy rain. Rumors of haunting began circulating, warning people not to go there at night, as they might be haunted by vengeful spirits. However, it was a necessary route to the county town, and people passed by it every day.
By qiang wang3 years ago in Fiction
Back to the Sunset Market
I didn't consider what I was asking the grandfather to take away. A child can't wrap their heads around the enormity of such things, the far-reaching implications. Could I ask a doctor to take a healthy leg? What manner of man would agree to take it?
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
Beyond the Superficial - Why Inner Beauty Trumps Bullies?
The mirror reflects a face, but rarely the soul. This truth echoes particularly strongly in the corridors of adolescence, where self-discovery and societal pressures often collide, creating a battlefield for self-esteem. Yet, amidst the taunts of bullies and the insecurities of youth, one crucial fact remains: true beauty transcends the superficial, existing instead as a harmonious orchestration of self-acceptance, inner strength, and unwavering kindness.
By TEK TRIK3 years ago in Fiction
Fetid Is the New Black
A sequel to Rachel Deeming's 59th story in her A Story Every Day in 2024 series, "An Unintended Stop." _________________ After pulling over, Janet's son Damon had found the black bag with the dead body. Rudely awakened, little Lilly was still cross. Janet put her down.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
The Passing Shadow
Part One In a remote village surrounded by towering mountains, known as the "Village of Shadows", lived an old man named "Hakim". Hakim was known for his wisdom and intelligence, and people came from all over to seek his advice and solve their problems.
By Nofal farhan3 years ago in Fiction
The Philosophical Musings of a Homeless Man. Content Warning.
When I think back to those times when I was needed, it is with a sense of deadness. I can't let my emotion in otherwise it will drown me, like it has in the past. It leaves me floundering in its force and its relentlessness, gulping and gasping. I struggle to face its onslaught. It's always present, at the periphery of my consciousness. It's waiting to find its way in.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
The fall. Content Warning.
Physically the fall was painless, emotionally it was unbearable. I was his right-hand man, a soldier in the army, there were times when I knew I was indispensable. Yet here I am, free falling into nothingness, and all because I questioned his motives, his ‘plans.’ The problem was, he lost his way, not me. I am not alone in thinking this, it just happened to be my voice he heard above everyone else’s.
By JBaz3 years ago in Fiction
Territorial
The white dragon stalked the deer closely, circling the edge of the clearing as the creature feasted on lush grass. His eyes narrowed with focus, and he lowered his head as he prepared to pounce.
By Stephanie Hoogstad3 years ago in Fiction
Knock Knock. Content Warning.
*KNOCK KNOCK* Jude opens the door... It appears to be a fairly young woman. "Hello." "Hello?" Jude said. "It's me!"- She smiles falsely.
By Kodah3 years ago in Fiction
Dilation
I'd never make the birth unless I went hyperluminal. Doable, but frowned upon. 27 lightyears away my wife labored in a stand-alone lying-in holodome on subsurface Enceladus. Her art-intels readied her for parturition.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
The Language of Today
El-oh-el, da boy go. So I aks him, “what dat, el-oh-el?” “It means laugh out loud, ojiisan.” He giggle. “How can?” I scratch mah head.
By M. Lee3 years ago in Fiction
What I Bought at The Market
Once every fifty-one years, they come to the edge of our sleepy little town. Ha. "Town". Barely more than a village, really, with stone cottages lining picturesque lanes. This is where Father Time goes on holiday. He slows down, takes his boots off, idles. Stretches.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction