Microfiction
Cybergrade
My thumb scrolls up on the screen as countless faces flash by. I stop when I see someone I recognize. John has posted wedding pictures with his wife, Rachel. He was such a player in university, I could never picture him with one girl. Double tap. The heart flashes on the screen as I Like the photo.
By Aaron Crowley3 years ago in Fiction
Excalcifate. First Place in the Neolomicro Challenge.
You're trying not to push her too hard. In some ways Amber has experienced more in her first twelve years than you did in your first twenty. There's no question in your mind that taking her in is the right thing to do. Still, you wish she would give you some indication of what she's feeling.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Primbellafect
I think I see it approaching ever closer from above. It swirls in the current of the chilly January air. The flake lands on my skin and I marvel at the ephemerality of nature's purest mandala for the fleeting moment that it's present there. In one blink it is transformed into the liquid state, unrecognizable to an outside observer, presently indistinguishable from a number of others who have since made their landing. I know though. The first flake of the season becoming one with myself is an irreplicable feeling. The only thing that's come close is that first day your skin touched mine. The electricity that ran through my body is a sensation I've been chasing ever since. I've felt it when you look at me, get real close, touch my soul, but nothing is the same as its introduction. That song released at 6 a.m. on that June morning a couple years back woke up my soul, opened my eyes, showed me what to strive for. I want to make others feel what he made me feel. That connection the lyrics made with my life combined with the revelation and the surprise is the high I crave when I close my eyes. When I feel the snowflake, see its shape, marvel at its magic, I think of you and that song and wish it never ended.
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro3 years ago in Fiction
Demoniatic
I got exactly what I wished for and I wish I could take it back. I would have sold my soul for some form of adoration. I wanted so much to be liked back that it didn't matter how it happened. When your self esteem is nonexistent, you won't believe anyone could ever think you're pretty. When you're so self conscious, you think the world is making everyone believe you're ugly. Maybe if the devil had offered me another option, I would have changed my mind. I wish for a boy to notice me and he did. 19-year-old's don't know what they want but want it anyways. Validation is an evil thing in itself. When you can't validate yourself, you seek it from others. I sought in the eyes from a boy who smoked too much weed. He had a pretty face but don't they all? He would put his mouth on mine but there was no spark. He would try to get me high but I didn't want to. I couldn't dare look him in the eye. He tried to get me to have sex with him in his car but I did not want to. I wanted him to want me and he sure did. He didn't want me the way I wanted him to. Wishes are purely selfish and when they are granted, the genie gives you your heart's desire. Maybe we should learn to love ourselves instead.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Fiction
Chromasomniō. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
His eyes... I can't quite capture them. Hooked under heavy lids, sleep shadows of viridian and phthalo green. A wash of ultramarine. An easy smile creases his face so the sunlight catches; gold, chartreuse, and peridot join hands to dance circles around a pitch pupil.
By Jenna Sedi3 years ago in Fiction
