Microfiction
Tips for Hunting a Friend
“I’m Christina, a profesional friend hunter. I’ll be helping you hunt down friends today,” I said to the tour group. They all smiled excitedly. The first place the bus stopped was Forges Coffee Shop. “Does everyone have tranquilizer guns ready?” I asked. They all nodded their heads. “First tip, stay five feet apart so nobody trips when they rush in. Now go capture friends,” I said and they ran inside and each brought a sleeping, tied up friend back to the bus. “Second tip, make sure they’re tied tightly to your wall or table before they wake up,” I said.
By Alex H Mittelman about a year ago in Fiction
My Day in Court
“They only fired him because he has autism,” I said. I hate discrimination against people with autism, and I vowed to defend all of them. “That’s not true, it took him to long to learn things,” the defense said. “So what, he learned them and he excelled at his job after,” I said. “That doesn’t matter. He’s weird,” the defense said. “He seems normal enough to me. And who cares if he’s weird as long as he does his job,” I said. The judge slammed his gavel and ordered the company to pay twenty five billion dollars to my client.
By Alex H Mittelman about a year ago in Fiction
Caught Out
In the sky the moon was but a bare sliver. Her beams barely penetrating the stygian depths of the woods where I hid. Rustling in the trees made me jerk my head back and forth, wondering what creatures may await there. Over the crickets and sighing wind I could still hear the voice of my pursuer. "Come out... Come out." Huddled beneath a bush, trembling, I held my breath in fear of being discovered. If he caught me it would be game over. Anxiously I peered through the fingers laced over my eyes. Suddenly a hand grabbed my ankle, causing me to screech as my heart jumped into my throat. "Got you!" came the gleeful shout. "You're it!" shouted my little brother as he ran back to base.
By Andrew C McDonaldabout a year ago in Fiction
Around and Around, We Go!
I wonder if I fall from this height, it’ll be enough to kill me. Our two-seater open capsule did nothing to hide the bright candy-colored lights twinkling in an off-beat rhythm; I think I’m about to go blind. Cruel that the lights could still flicker but the Ferris wheel itself was at a standstill. At least the view compensated for that.
By Brianna Covernaliabout a year ago in Fiction