Microfiction
Two Bus Tickets. Top Story - March 2024.
Jeremy sat on a bench outside the bus station while the snow fell softly. Holding two tickets to the city in his hand, his heart was pounding. He used his savings to buy the tickets, and they would live off the rest. He looked at his watch, wondering where Colt was. They were supposed to meet at the bus stop fifteen minutes ago, and Colt wasn’t there yet.
By J. Delaney-Howe3 years ago in Fiction
Bound by duty
On a Friday night in the quiet town of Saloman Bay, the young couple Carrie Wood and James Wise, held each other's hands as they kissed amidst the wintry magic surrounding them. Their love blossomed against a backdrop of snow-laden streets and twinkling lights, creating a storybook romance that would captivate the people of Saloman Bay for years.
By F.R. Gautvik3 years ago in Fiction
When There Is No Path To Tread
I walked out of my door just before dawn. This far off the main roads, the plows were unlikely to reach us for hours, if they even got to us today at all, and the neighbours wouldn't be up trying to dig out their cars and stoops for a little bit yet either. The world seemed to be at peace in stark contrast to the howling wind and blowing snow we'd had the night before. Everything was coated in a white blanket, glinting in the rising sun's light, with no evidence of any roads or paths to lead anywhere or towards anything.
By Kelsey Clarey3 years ago in Fiction
To Bear the Bones
It was after hours on a ski hill. Mr. Brown was the groundskeeper. He'd named the snow mage in front of him Mr. White. At first, he'd wielded the nearest thing he could use as a weapon: a ski pole. The snow mage's best promise of safety had been its calm.
By Matthew Daniels3 years ago in Fiction
A Stand in the Impalpable voids! It’s Stone Cold 🥶
Sustainability is a virtue if you may believe. In regards to that, I have stood up a little longer than expected.Herein, I stand tall over fairest mountainous 🏔️ summits, at the foot of which stretch gurgling waters shaped into springs, and then, through the rivers, brooks and rivulets, I stream ( not scream,) furthering furthest into neighborhood creeks. Far away across those bold barriers of the rocky cliffs, 🪨nurtured in nature’s valleys and amidst thousands of huge chunks of icicles --dripping through the roofs, I stand erect guarding the entrance of an impalpable void.Resting next to me is a glacier. To the east is a high soaring cloud casting shadows like a sentinel lighting some holy city. Thereupon throwing broader reflections over the plains , much closer to the barren lands, there is this powdery snowy peak, never melting under the sun’s sizzling heat. Amidst those higher up highs, there's a pinnacle,brighter than bright . It's there, in that reposing void of heavenly skies, a sheer strength belies ; an environ studded in mystique, and into which, the solemnity of peace bespeaks Lain alike and fallen silent over the poppy fields, and yet upon the graves in grooves abounds a tranquil ; flapping it’s wings along a luminous course that's all marked in white. Until.....Such a magnificence (in gaze ) is met by a wanderer seeking the fairest verdant lawns of heavenly bliss ; for in that exists the glory of heaven trapped in a moment's deceit!
By Madhu Goteti 3 years ago in Fiction
Silent Snow
In mid-October, it arrives how it always does: Rapid. Enduring. The rain starts to muffle its frenetic drumbeat on the metal roof of our cabin. Precipitation will still fall, but now it will come without announcing itself. It will build layer upon layer- a muted pressure that strains the rafters to near breaking.
By Penny Fuller3 years ago in Fiction
"The Forgotten Note: Echoes of Love Lost in the Attic's Embrace"
**The Forgotten Note** In a quaint town nestled between rolling hills, there lived a young woman named Emily. She spent her days tending to the flowers in her garden and her evenings lost in the world of books. Yet, there was a longing in her heart that even the beauty of nature and the solace of literature couldn't fill. One crisp autumn morning, while clearing out her late grandmother's attic, Emily stumbled upon a dusty old piano. As she gingerly ran her fingers over the keys, memories of her grandmother's gentle melodies flooded her mind. Tucked beneath the yellowed sheet music, she found a faded note addressed to her grandmother, signed with initials that stirred a faint familiarity within her. The note spoke of a love lost to time, of dreams left unfulfilled, and of a promise made under a starry sky. Emily's curiosity piqued, and she embarked on a journey to unravel the mystery of the forgotten note. With each passing day, Emily delved deeper into her grandmother's past, piecing together fragments of a love story that had long been buried. She traced the letters engraved on weathered gravestones, listened intently to the whispers of the townsfolk, and sifted through old photographs in search of clues. Through tear-stained pages of diaries and faded photographs, Emily uncovered the poignant tale of Sarah and James, two young lovers torn apart by circumstance. Sarah, with her fiery spirit and unwavering determination, had captured the heart of James, a humble musician with dreams of composing symphonies that would echo through the ages. Their love blossomed like the wildflowers in spring, yet fate had other plans. James was called to serve his country in a distant land, leaving Sarah with nothing but memories and a promise to return. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years, yet James never came back. As Emily traced Sarah's footsteps through the cobblestone streets of the town, she felt a deep connection to the woman whose love had endured the test of time. She imagined Sarah sitting by the window, her eyes fixed on the horizon, waiting for a love that never returned. Driven by a desire to honor her grandmother's legacy, Emily sat down at the piano and let her fingers dance across the keys. With each note, she breathed life into the forgotten melodies of Sarah and James, weaving their love story into a timeless symphony that echoed through the ages. In the stillness of the night, as the moon cast its gentle glow upon the town, Emily closed her eyes and let the music carry her away. In that moment, she felt a presence beside her, a whisper in the wind that spoke of love enduring beyond the confines of time and space. As dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight illuminated the sky, Emily knew that some love stories were meant to transcend the boundaries of time, weaving their magic into the fabric of eternity. And as she played the final notes of the forgotten symphony, she felt a sense of peace wash over her, knowing that love, in all its forms, would always find a way to endure. The pain that ife as dish out on her, so many timea when it seem all hope is gone she pick herself up again , until love found her.
By d jojo gent3 years ago in Fiction
Bloody Snow
“Why are they ringing the alarm?” “We got snow coming in less than an hour!” Everyone was caught off guard. Predictions usually allowed for hours of preparation. Right now, my children were out with my father. He loved taking them out of the settlement to be among the trees; his favorite reminder of life before.
By Lily Séjor3 years ago in Fiction
Whirl Wind
His love is a windy night. It calls to you, as you stare into the glow of its bright obscurity. From your window, it’s whimsical. It’s fleeting. But when you step out to embrace it, it chokes you. It races around you in a whirlwind that sucks the warmth from your burning soul. It leaves you drowning in dry air. It’s hungry for what it can never experience. So it devours, in hopes that it may live. But a love like this can never live; therefore, can never die. Because it isn’t love.
By Jennifer David3 years ago in Fiction
Fresh Eyes, First Snow
Two headfuls of space. The focus when that’s all there is. Every maths and science lesson I had, soundlessly turns inside ‘frozen space headfuls’ calculating breaths I can subdue, thus saving precious air for Thierry. He endured agony waitlisted for life-changing eye surgery. Never complained or even flinched.
By The Dani Writer3 years ago in Fiction
