Microfiction

The Enigma of Echo Valley
Once upon a time, in a small, secluded town nestled within the misty mountains, there existed a place known as Echo Valley. Legend had it that the valley got its name from the strange phenomenon where echoes of voices lingered far longer than they should, sometimes carrying messages from the past.
By Abegail Reyes3 years ago in Fiction
The Day After, 1100 Hours
I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes before dawn. The snow-laden air was fresh, and I had to shake the two inches of newly fallen snow off me.
By Andrea Corwin 3 years ago in Fiction
Angels in the Snow
Melissa sipped at her coffee on that particular Saturday morning, she went home from college for the weekend, and had gotten there early enough to make a large breakfast, which she completed just in time to see Dawn (her younger sister by 2 years) make her way into the kitchen.
By Timothy E Jones3 years ago in Fiction
Snow Way
I’ve taken every single shelf out of the fridge, turned the dial on the bugger to super bloody cold. I have the door wide open and a high velocity fan pointing into this empty white plastic cupboard. I have Dads best chisel, nice broad head, very sharp. I crouch and scuttle in arse first backwards. I got the ski clothes on from Thredbo last year, they still fit, so there is that! I sit there after putting a ski show on the free channel on the tele. I’m not a big fan of the snow or the cold but I love the SHISSSSHHH SHISSSSHHH noise the skiers make as they pull those amazing corners. Slowly and lightly I scrape the icy walls off the inside of Mums Kelvinator, it flakes off and rides the will of the fan, mostly blowing back into my face. It’s thirty six degrees centigrade outside today, it will probably climb a coupla more degrees and for some inane reason I wanted to make my own snow. And look, here’ I am; living the dream. I shiver and I scrape, I wipe my brow to clear the flakes I have made. Outside the fridge it is a sludgy mess of melted ice and dirty footprints, I wore my little sisters Blunnys cause there’s no way I was gonna get my Reeboks wet – As If! I’m still scraping away in my fridge, it’s definitely not a winter wonderland but I have some stunning summer bloody snow.
By Bren3 years ago in Fiction
Getaway
“It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Get to the next town.” I mutter under my breath and lick the sweat from my upper lip. My trembling fingers turn white on the steering wheel. I squint into the night. Snow races toward me from an endless vacuum of black. My headlights are dim. The car shudders, gasping against the storm.
By Sarah DuPerron3 years ago in Fiction
Love Lost
My Bess, It snowed today for the first time this season, sending me back in time. My mind raced with glittery thoughts of that last winter in school. The muted landscape kept our secrets, covering our snow angels as they began side by side, then became only one. Your breath fogged over my face, and your nose cold. But your lips were wet and warm and tickled my ear. Your eyes were bright, and your cheeks pink. As we trudged, sinking to our knees in places, your hand was deep inside my mitten, straining the threads and holding my hand.
By Sarah DuPerron3 years ago in Fiction
The Harvest of Fear: Pradeep's Terrifying Ordeal in Andhra Pradesh
In the sun-kissed fields of Andhra Pradesh, where the fertile soil yields bountiful crops, there lived a farmer named Pradeep. With calloused hands and unwavering determination, he toiled day in and day out to provide for his family and sustain his ancestral land. However, little did he know that amidst the tranquility of rural life, a sinister force lurked, waiting to unleash a nightmare upon him.
By Ashok3 years ago in Fiction
WHITE CHRISTMAS
Winter 2023. Everyone is hoping for a white Christmas, to add excitement and nostalgia at the same time to the holiday season. But to everyone's disappointment, yes it was snowing alright as always the case, but it was followed by rain which only melted the snow away, even before it covers the branches of the barren trees. Our story doesn't end there though. It was not until Christmas was over that the snow came again with a vengeance, with all its pristine whiteness and crazy freezing temperature. The trees look so pretty dressed in snow. What a beauty to behold! Christmas season might be over at this time, but no one can stop me if I want to play Christmas carols while sitting on the couch where I can see the corner where we used to put the Christmas tree. And imagine looking and enjoying the lights while sipping my coffee with eggnog which by the way is only available in the market during Christmas season, one of my favorite treat. And who cares what I think and what I want to believe as long as I don't break any rules, nobody is hurt or deprive of their own happiness, that will be doing injustice and selfishness on my part, which are also against my nature being a loving person. All I want is to experience and re-live white Christmas even when it's out of season, every time and whenever I feel like it. It's not a crime, isn't it?
By Windchime3 years ago in Fiction
A Beautiful Killer
It has come again. A delight to most, like those with currency passes. It’s the reason they’re here. It falls and invites people to see, play, and touch it. They marvel at its intricate details of lace, waiting for it to grow into the soft powder they've heard.
By Leni Koski3 years ago in Fiction
Stupid is as stupid does
Fair warning: this is an irresponsible dark humor story I overheard on the Russian internet. One little boy named Oleg was not doing well in school. He never did his homework, couldn’t remember anything, and was horrible at math. His teacher didn’t like him and kept telling him that he was good for nothing. He was so stupid, she said, that the only thing he could hope to become was a janitor, if even that.
By Lana V Lynx3 years ago in Fiction
A Parcel of Love
In the bustling streets of Mumbai, amidst the chaotic traffic and the constant hum of life, there lived a girl named Meera. She was a simple girl with dreams as big as the city itself, but her days were spent in the monotony of her routine job at a local bookstore.
By Ashok3 years ago in Fiction
0115 PNW
Snowshoeing along the mountain trail, dark clouds rolled overhead. Visiting the Pacific Northwest from my Alaska home, I knew how the weather could change in the mountains in a minute. Different climate than Alaska, but I had the skills to handle it. My planned route was provided to the rangers; I had an avalanche beacon and was outfitted for deep snow and negative temperatures.
By Andrea Corwin 3 years ago in Fiction