Microfiction
Ekaterinburg is Your Best Bet!
Putin died and was buried in St.Petersburg, his native city. A Russian political dissident who'd been driven out of the country for fear of persecution comes to a travel agent and says, "Please help me find a ticket to St.Petersburg, Russia. I tried to book it myself but everything seems to have been sold out for a year."
By Lana V Lynx22 days ago in Fiction
Halloween day
It was the day before Halloween and the Zombies have decided to come out early. The humans were not quite sure what to think for they, the zombies were not interested in them it seemed. The humans wondered why. They knew Halloween was tomorrow, so they decided too maybe give zombies a scare. They decided to act like them. The zombies stopped walking and just stared and started CANDEE, CANDEE, CANDEE!!!! The humans stopped do you suppose they still know it's Halloween and they happen to be trick or treating even a day early. The humans threw candy. Zombies smiled.
By Mark Graham22 days ago in Fiction
nothing.
Something pushes you down steep stone stairs. You can feel the heat rising as you descend. Burning light illuminates the tunnel ahead, and if your hands weren’t holding onto the sharp stone walls, stretching to find balance, you’d use them to cover your eyes.
By Fraser Young23 days ago in Fiction
The Quiet Below
Niko dreamed of the cliff first, like always. — the same sheer drop of stone beneath his boots, the same clean horizon, the same measured wind brushing past him in steady intervals. He stood at the edge, hands in his pockets, looking down at the ocean far below.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Fiction
Beneath the Wake
Bane dreamed of the ocean often, though his version was never gentle. It came to him in jagged pieces — cliffs carved by storms, waves that struck like fists, a horizon that never stayed still. The water was darker in his dreams, almost metallic, reflecting nothing but the faint shimmer of his own eyes.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Fiction
Into the Void
Sara dreamed of the ocean the way she remembered it as a kid — cold, gray, endless, the kind of water that didn’t sparkle so much as brood. In the dream, she stood at the shoreline with her boots sinking slowly into wet sand, the tide tugging at her laces like it wanted her to step closer.
By Syl De'Vil24 days ago in Fiction
No Seat Belt
Imagine you are 6 years old and going to Woodfield Mall with your parents. You leave the apartment with them, climb into the sports car, and crawl over the seat to the console between the two bucket seats. Your mom gets in on the right side of the car, and your dad gets behind the wheel of the orange sports car. You sit between them , happy to go for a ride in your daddy’s fast car.
By Andrea Corwin 25 days ago in Fiction
Irony of The Orange Guy
Orange man wants disabled people to work stating we owe it to taxpayers. However he will allow a broken justice system to house people who won't rehabilitate. In addition, he takes his own vacations and golfs continuously. His supporters justify he donates so much, but no donation is not announced or is not written off. So tell me now, are the vulnerable really the tax drain?
By Sid Aaron Hirji25 days ago in Fiction
High Tea For Werewolves
High Tea For Werewolves The shift began at the emotional level before mutating your physical form. It was subtle at first; a sudden, sharp intolerance to indoor lights, a heavy pressure behind your brow. It became too dark to read the books on your shelf. The text blurred into meaningless shapes, leaving you unable to decipher what you yourself were about to become.
By Alyson Smith 25 days ago in Fiction
The Wrong Room at the Right Time
You don’t know how you ended up in this room. You weren’t looking for it. You weren’t even looking for him. You were just walking — down a hallway, through a door, across a threshold — and suddenly you’re somewhere you’ve never been before, somewhere that feels private in a way that makes your skin prickle.
By Syl De'Vil25 days ago in Fiction
