Microfiction

A Visit to Nana's
The spare room at Nana's was much nicer than my room at home. It was spotless. No clutter. No toys. The bed was too hard, the pillow too soft. The hardwood floor too cold, the rug I swung my feet onto too tickly.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
The Uncharted Realities of Love: A Princess's Tales
Title: The Uncharted Realities of Love: A Princess's Tale Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a princess who spent her days immersed in the enchanting world of fairytales. Her name was Princess Isabella, and she possessed a heart that yearned for the kind of love she had read about in countless stories. However, little did she know that the journey to finding true love was far more complex than the fairytales had led her to believe.
By Fiyisola 3 years ago in Fiction
Boxing Day
This story has been written in response to L.C. Schäfer's proposal to spend 2024 losing my mind...sorry, I mean, choosing to write a microfiction story every day, making 366 stories for every day of this lovely leap year. You can check her original story out here:
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
Where Am I?
When I wake, I see nothing. I put my hand out in front of me, touch my face. Shut my eyes. Open them. No difference. Panic builds. Is it dark, or is there something wrong with my eyes?
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
War Orphans Day
He was sitting at the airport, a hub, with a lot of traffic en route to here and there — and everywhere. There were men and women, separate, rolling their excursion's worth of belongings, steering them this way and that — and every way.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
Didn't see it Coming
Prompt 4 of 366! This is a very special story for me as it is my first to be rejected on vocal. My first detention! I am assuming that this due to a shortcoming on my part in the amount of waffling I did to reach a lower threshold of acceptable verbiage, and thus I am editing accordingly. However, I think I will take these otherwise hollow words and use them to lay out my position on the notion of submitting a microfiction per day for 2024. For the record, I do not intend to complete this undertaking. This is for several reasons, the first of which is that I am back in work next week. But beneath that is the fact that I don't think anyone, even me, needs 366 mini Hannah stories popping up in their feeds over the next year. I also think this would rob me of the opportunity to do other things, and has the potential for me to psychologically turn a pleasure into a chore to be completed, something I am very good at.
By Hannah Moore3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Day of Christmas
THE REST OF THE STORY The Magi came on the 12th day of Christmas. They were Zoroastrian priests from Persia and came with loot.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
The Day of the Kill. Content Warning.
This story has been written in response to L.C. Schäfer's proposal to spend 2024 losing my mind...sorry, I mean, choosing to write a microfiction story every day, making 366 stories for every day of this lovely leap year. You can check her original story out here:
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
The Wages of Sin
It started in the dullest way possible. With a thin brown envelope. It felt important. Unignorable. A bill? Bills. I used to pay them on time, you know. Smiled with bitten lips. Wrote thank you notes. Fretted.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
I FOUND LOVE IN YABA MARKET
First off, can we applaud me? I went to the market with my cousin, watched her buy the whole market, and bought nothing. Okay, I bought one top.
By AyoO3 years ago in Fiction
People of Color
January 4: World Braille Day DISCLAIMER: I was born without the wherewithal to write this. Born three months premature, I required oxygen support for four months thereafter. My retinas detached, as they are prone to do when greedy and adventurous retinal blood vessels are gifted extra oxygen.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Snow Dragon
Amidst the silent pines and the crisp mountain air, Sarah trudged through the thick carpet of snow. The forest was painted in shades of white and gray, a tranquil haven far away from the hustle of the world. Her breath hung in the air like mist as she ventured deeper into the woods.
By Giri3 years ago in Fiction