Microfiction
Microfiction that takes place in a snowy setting
In the heart of a wintry forest, where the snowfall painted the landscape in a pristine white, a lone traveler trudged through the deep drifts. His breath hung in the frigid air, a testament to the bitter cold that enveloped him. With each step, the snow crunched beneath his boots, a symphony of solitude in the serene wilderness. As he pressed forward, the world around him seemed to fade into a tranquil stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches weighed down by the heavy snow. Yet, despite the harsh conditions, there was a sense of quiet beauty that whispered through the trees, inviting him deeper into the wilderness. With determination etched upon his face, the traveler forged ahead, driven by a purpose known only to him. He had ventured into this unforgiving landscape not seeking refuge from the cold, but rather solace in its icy embrace. For in the silence of the snow-covered forest, he found a sanctuary from the chaos of the world beyond. With each passing moment, the traveler felt a sense of clarity wash over him, as if the chill of the winter air had frozen his worries in place, leaving only a sense of calm in its wake. And as he finally emerged from the depths of the forest, a newfound resolve burned within him, fueled by the silent strength of the snowy landscape. In the end, it was not the harshness of the winter that defined his journey, but rather the quiet resilience that thrived within its icy embrace
By d jojo gent3 years ago in Fiction
Revelation
“Are you coming? It’s Valentine’s Day,” the text message said. Her heart couldn’t be happier. Was he inviting her for a romantic lunch together? “Bring some food and hurry up. I am waiting,” a second message obviously revealed this was not a romantic invitation but rather a demand.
By Susan Fourtané 3 years ago in Fiction
Sadfasdf, Trending
I was watching YouTube. It seems that putting random keystrokes into Google search brings up bizarre videos. Eager try it, I performed a finger-roll on my keyboard's second row of letters, rapidly undulating keys from pinky-to-index finger, with an extra randomization thrown in.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
These Green Eyes Don't Cry. Content Warning.
If you're reading this, I need you to help me. They've shut me in here and I can't get out. I've got to get out. I have to find him. I love him. And he loves me. I think. His friends love me, too. I think. They all did. A few times.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
Saint Valentine
"So, I'm thinking that you'd like to live forever, right?" Valentine had been startled out of his skin, when the angel appeared, minding his own business, thinking about love. He was a loving sort of man. A man who loved God. A man who loved marriage. A man who loved Love. It was a great thing and should be treated as such, as should all the associated Love attributes: respect, trust, companionship to name a couple.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
The drifting mise en abyme
The world is part of a Mise-en-abyme, a repeating story within a story, a scene within a scene. The epicenter of change begins with what is in plain sight. When light is visualized, or seen, the brain connects colour to emotions associated with experiences. White light reflects all colours of the spectrum. In many countries white is worn during the time of mourning, in others it is associated with purity, innocence or sterile cleanliness that can cause calm or insanity.
By Katherine D. Graham3 years ago in Fiction
