Microfiction
The Memory of Stones
The stones have memories of other times. All of them do if you know what to search for. They come in many forms, the different layers of sediment in canyon walls. The smooth surfaces of pebbles in a fast-flowing river. The specks of sand. The sparkling crystals in geodes.
By Amethyst Champagne3 years ago in Fiction
Cheetah People
As told to Mother Combs in one of her many adventures: In the arid mountain ranges of the Sahara desert live a people no one has ever seen. The Maunetjer, when they venture out into the outer world to trade, wear garments similar to burkas, both male and female, and only remove them once they are in the safety of their homes. No outsider is allowed inside their homes. There have been mysterious disappearances of people rumored to be looking for them. Several gung-ho explorers, eager to make a mark for themselves, thought they could be the ones to come back with pictures of the Maunetjer. Never to be seen again.It is rumored at the market that when they purchase the many chickens, goats, and cows, they wear gloves when exchanging money. Not one person has even seen so much as a hand or foot of a Maunetjer. They purchase thousands of chickens, goats, and cows a year. No one knows what they do with them either, for they never sell any animals, hides, milk, cheese, or anything back at the market.The Maunetjer does not wear jewelry. They wear no adornments on their costumes, nor rings on their fingers, bracelets, or anything. The only gold the Maunetjer handles is money.The gods of the Maunetjer must be fierce and unforgiving because of the totems and statues they have carved of the gods. All the statues are of some humanoid cheetah-like creature with a burning look of hunger on its sleek face. These gods are depicted in all sorts of poses.This writer's firm opinion is that it would be unwise to visit the Maunetjer without their expressed invitation. To visit them without their consent could result in the death of any or all sent. Suppose you want to find out more information on a Maunetjer. In that case, it is my professional opinion that you shoot one in the marketplace and haul the corpse to your laboratory to study. To do otherwise would be a foolish mistake. May Allah keep and protect you from the hell that will surely follow you, no matter what you decide.
By Mother Combs (Sharon)3 years ago in Fiction
The Camera in the Attic
She finds the old camera in the attic, tucked into a heavy trunk covered in dust and filled with all sorts of junk. The camera, clunky and old with its silver bits, was in a similar condition as the rest of the items. They’re strange things, those vintage film cameras, like otherworldly machines, brought here by travelers from some alien planet, familiar yet unknown.
By Karla Campos3 years ago in Fiction
The Queens
The Queen of the Humans once came before the Fae Queen to make a request of the Fairy Queen. “Queen Aoibheall, the fair and kind, my ally, I come before you today and supplicant myself. I seek your aid in a most personal affair that will affect my kingdom and could lead to the destruction of our alliance,” The Human Queen pleaded to the Fae Queen from a kneeling position.
By Mother Combs (Sharon)3 years ago in Fiction
Ecoverklempt
I turn on my laptop and immediately open my browser. I see the headlines because my eyes can't help but look at them. The first one of importance that catches my eye is "Town To Require Resident Composting." I smile and weep silently as I begin reading the details. I am instantly covered in full-body goosebumps, my shoulders heave, and I have the contradicting urges to sob with every ounce of my being and to jump for joy. It is a good day in such an overwhelmingly bad system. This little win feels like a whole lot of hope in a hopeless situation. I continue reading and see the related article: "Woman Builds Outdoor Cat Houses From Rescued Materials" - the tears keep coming. The least we could do really feels monumental at this point. I think of last week when you freed that baby bunny from the chicken wire and the same rush of emotion came over me. Even the thought now brings that same gut feeling and the irrepressible urge to cry; it’s visceral. This deep ache comes from somewhere in my soul. It’s akin to the bittersweet way I miss your touch, yet wish you find the one who’s right for you. I can’t be entirely sure if the involuntary tears are out of sadness for what has been lost or destroyed or hope for what good persists and what is to come.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro3 years ago in Fiction
Whatever Happened to Saul and Paul?
The last time we saw Saul and Paul, they sailed away from a deserted island where they had just abandoned poor pirate Joe. They took his treasure and headed for the distant seas. They were mighty pleased with themselves.
By Mother Combs (Sharon)3 years ago in Fiction
