Microfiction
Planētaimpinge
I read the word absentmindedly, in the way a person typically does when glancing down at a notification just before ordering the day’s first cup of coffee. Seeing my eyebags reflected off the pastry display I drop an extra fifty cents for another shot and stand over by the window, silently willing Physics 2 not start for another five minutes, for the rain to let up, for time to stop and let me breathe—another notification pops up. Several in fact, the phone almost vibrates in time with my pulse but other people’s ringers are on and suddenly a strange symphony erupts, buzzes and beeps and Peter Griffin's laugh echoing off the Starbucks walls. Finally I read that first notification, what I assumed to be some miscellaneous post from a nerdy, physicist Reddit thread and everything. Stops.
By Lilly Wages3 years ago in Fiction
Solitary Grains Entwine
Fists beat the door, enough to resemble an earthquake as all the surrounding items shook. Maybe they were fearful too. How many days of fear had these items been companions to. "Just a moment.", she stalled while trying to think what misstep she could have made. She quickly put on her head garb and ran to the door. Opening it hesitantly, not wanting to meet a fist to her face, she is ever so cautious. "Were you undressed, what took so long. If you are going to live here, there are simple things to follow." "I was not undressed, just without my head piece. I didn't want to open the door without it. Out of respect." "Respect would be to have it on and answer the door." Before realizing what had happened she felt a hot stinging on her face. Then pain. He had smacked her accross the face. She felt a buzzing in her flesh. Stunned and promptly irreverent she stared into his face. "We sponsored you coming here. We have ways. Not your ways, our ways. The things you do and say affect me, my family, your safety even. I heard what you did today. I guess I must remind you." She began trying to explain. Not more than three words left her lips before she felt another slap upon her face. This time the words fell out of her mouth and remained lost. She sat wordless and silent. "You, listen", he said, "Only listen." She nodded in understanding. "You are not to go to market alone. You are not to go without your full dress garment. You are not to speak to people especially about topics of your choosing. If you have things to criticize, know that no one wishes to hear it. That boy and his sister, today, were not your friends. We heard about everything. Now because you are newly here and I presume you were coaxed into some of these talks I will let it go, but this is your warning. Understand?" "Yes sir.", she whispered out. "Okay than, you may continue with what you were doing. Forget all this unpleasantness, but remember you are trying to make a new home here." He leaves closing the door behind him. She added another length to some braided cord she has been working on. It has become her gage of loneliness. She continues another section everytime she feels lost or upset. Settling in here would not be easy, but she wouldn't let it break her either. She knew that boy looked like a spy traitor earlier. Damn tattler, she would need to be more guarded. Criticizing the local politics was dangerous, she knew as she had been doing it. She needed to be smarter. She finished a long section of braid, tied it off at a stopping point. Once secure she moved on. She felt better. Days rolled on in this way. She seemed to be in trouble everyday. Sometimes minor infractions, other times huge mistakes that always jeopardize the family 'who had been so kind to her'. She felt like an ice skater who just realized the ice lake she skated on is fractured. The family seemed to be looking for reasons to be upset with her. As the days rolled on the braid she worked on grew longer as well. She now wrapped it around a box she had used from the move to keep the braid from tangling. It had to be as long as a soccer field by now. As she prepared to go to market today, she reminded herself of the rules. Most importantly NOT to speak with anyone. Don't buy anything that wasn't on the list. She had all the intentions to follow these rules. At market, a boy she had never seen before sat selling rice. Rice was on the list. She softly walks towards his stand. She approaches from the corner as to avoid the boys immediate attention. However, her approach doesn't work. The boy see's her and stands up. "Dont think about stealing." "I would never", she says shocked at the accusation. "Well the other day a nice girl, dressed like you, talked me up and later I realized she stole. I got in trouble." "I'm sorry. That is horrible. I get in trouble a lot, not for things like stealing. Anyways I would never. I'm kinda new here and it has been hard." "Well, life is hard." "Yes, I guess." "Want rice?" "Well, I dont know. Is there another stand selling rice." The boy stops and looks her over. He scratches his hand and then moves his hand to his chin. He looks as if he is trying to understand the situation. "You really are new here. Don't respond to people like that." "Why? You accuse me of stealing. You tell me your woes, but care nothing for mine. You are the sales person in this situation. It's a fair question." "There is another place selling rice. Probably as good as mine too. Maybe a few if you keep walking." "I don't feel like walking. I'll buy some rice.", she took the list and showed him so he could see the quantity. "Okay, rice.", he says as getting her order ready. He hands her the container and she gives him the money. She turns to leave. "What are your woes, why are you always in trouble?" "Nevermind, I don't feel like getting slapped for lingering and talking." "Are you allowed to take a job?" "A job?" "We need another person for a couple hours,1 day a week." "I would have to ask first, but I would like to." "It wouldn't be lingering, if you wanted to talk then." She smiled. It was nice to have someone understand her woes without having to explain her woes out right. "I could help you fit in here, better. Teach you things to make your life easier here." "Where does your sponsor live. I will speak with him, as is common." They exchanged information then parted ways. That evening there was a knock on her door. Not angry fists or aggressive annoyed knocks. A polite common knock. She opens the door promptly. "Can we talk?" "Yes.", I look at him and his wife. I offer beverages and my dinner. They sit. "Seems a family from the market see's promise in you. They have a daughter, who is a little younger, they want you to work with her 1 day a week. To get her comfortable and to help you here. The daughter can teach you things and show you around. The brother assures us he will oversee things and it will be quite safe. We told them you would be happy to do this. Are we correct?" "Yes" "Great." We ate dinner together. For the first time in weeks the atmosphere felt light. Friendly even. She could almost be tempted to call this place home. "Thank you for dinner, delicious. Just know, by you taking this job, you still have to fulfill your daily tasks." "Yes of course." "It's responsibility." "I know, thank you. Good night." With that they left. The job was great. The daughter quickly became a close friend. Her brother a better friend. They were like family. He had not lied, she learned things. A lot of things. Things that were helping her fit in. At first she quit getting in trouble. She liked working, it was fun. It didn't hurt that she had extra spending money as well. Then the knit picking began. Her quarters were never clean enough and her food prepared ever so wrong. Her speech needed work and appearance too. She worked on the braid nearly every night. Gathering strands, working them over and under. A calming practice that let her mind free. One night, a knock on her door. She promptly answered the door. "Hello sir, madam." "Hello. We need to talk." "Okay, come in." "You must quit working at market." She waited for more. For the reason. "Understood?" "Sir, why?" She felt the warm and painful bee sting feeling on her cheek. This time she didn't recoil. Instead, this time she stood strong. "Not understood sir.", she shielded her face as she said it. Using her forearms as shields. "You are a child, it's not a discussion. If you must know, we found you a better job. You should be thanking us." "A different job? What job?" "It's full time, in an office, our friends daughter has agreed to let you shadow her at first. U are welcome." "No. I'm sorry, I won't quit the market." "Your friends will understand. I will explain. This is more promising of a future. Think of your future. You will be there Monday." She wasn't ready for full time, for a new teacher and friends. She had just started to adjust. She knew they'd knit pick her more with full time work. "Sir, no, please. At least let me do both." "You can't. No it is settled. We will leave, let you think about it and prepare. We will be back tomorrow to take you." All she could muster was an exasperated, "Sir please", but he was already closing the door. This was supposed to be a better home than the one she left. But it was the same just different in appearance. She heard her fists beating the door after his departure. She called her friends. No answer. She began braiding, until one of the strands broke from the tension of her anger exuding it's power through her hands. That was it. She tied it off. It was done. She was too. She phoned her friends again. This time he answered. She explained everything. Words flowed from her mouth in an unstoppable fashion. "Those are better woes. You should have told me sooner." She wanted to be with them, not under the wing of her sponsor. They helped her, they shouldn't own her. The boy devised a plan. She felt slightly guilty at her own ungratefulness, but she knew no real joy could come from staying here like this. She had no real say and no ability to talk it out. She took the braided cord and tied it in a halo and let the tail hang mixing in with her hair. A visible token to remind her of the many unhappy nights. The freedom she felt while braiding and the night she had snapped, snapping her work. She couldn't wait, like he had said. Her friend would understand. She would be alone for one night in the desert before he met her at the reaundevue location. She didn't want to stay one more night. She packed her back pack and another bag. With that, she was ready to go. She wrote a note, trying to say thank you and explain. She knew they would say she was ungrateful, ignoring themselves in the equation. She knew, but like them, she couldn't care. She left. She made it to the desert. To an obscure spot in the middle of it. The sky was so still, the stars so bright she couldn't believe it was real. The quiet was so loud it rattled her nerves a bit. She found a spot to rest. She took out a blanket and small pillow she packed. She could make it one night by herself. She had been by herself most the time, until finding the boy at the market. She could embrace the desert for one night. She saw the sand get picked up by a breeze and swirl around before being swept away. She envisioned her self as a piece of sand, free. She clutched her braid as she closed her eyes. Engulfed in the deserts parched silence, "I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind." Sent from my Galaxy
By simplicity3 years ago in Fiction
She Was Emma. Top Story - November 2023.
Always, she was Emma and I was Amy. We met in preschool and hit it off immediately. I reasoned that we needed to be friends because we were both 4 years old and our names sounded the same. She understood what I meant: the names Emma and Amy feel the same in your mouth. We were inseparable. Parents, teachers and friends referred to the two of us all at once: Emma'n'Amy. Emmanamy. Emma-and-Amy.
By Rebekah Conard3 years ago in Fiction
Transition from Despair
Mika’s logical mind was trapped inside the citadel walls of despair. His dire situation and his inability to find a resolution quickly only worsened the desperation he was feeling. Despair is a beast that blinds its victim from seeing rational solutions that would be obvious to the unencumbered mind. Despair is a self-perpetuating creature that feeds off the hopelessness of its prey. Yes, he must find an escape before his body and mind succumb to the ever-increasing pressure.
By Mark Gagnon3 years ago in Fiction
Strangerisagift
Strangerisagift - the occurrence of always running into strangers who are very kind. Ally is a sweet 12 year old girl who always runs into something she calls “Strangerisagift”. Ally loved the thought of coming across strangers while living daily life because you just never knew what beauty they held in store from her interactions with them. Ally left her house at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning to take her favorite walk. Just a block away from her house she encountered a homeless man who she had never seen before. The man didn’t have a sign up asking for money, but she reached in her pocket and gave him a dollar anyway. As she was walking away the man stopped her and said “the kindness in your heart is a beautiful gift that will one day change the world”. This comment made her smile.
By Joe Patterson3 years ago in Fiction
Culpabumble. Runner-Up in the Neolomicro Challenge.
"Colin, can you come in here please?" Three months in the office, and Jared was still getting my name wrong, despite sitting three meters away from me, separated by the brushed glass wall obscuring his lower half. I found that feature of the wall comforting. Jared was a creep. He peered out from his leadership nook like a meerkat.
By Conor Darrall3 years ago in Fiction
Absenteaminded
*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* The microwave loudly announced it was finished with its signature repetitive shrieking. “Oh crap, not again,” she mumbled, hurrying to silence the machine. Yanking the door open wide, she reached in with soapy hands towards the now-steaming mug sat in the centre of the turntable.
By Maddy Haywood3 years ago in Fiction
Aromescence
She affected me like atmospheric pressure at first, almost a tickle behind the ears and heart. 14 years since we had met in person. Our odd-hours, online reconnection as much a dissociated dream as a reality; as much a theosophical possibility as a tangible life-path. A concept instead of a thing.
By Conor Darrall3 years ago in Fiction
Paradigm Rift
Thomas Kuhn first coined the terms paradigm and paradigm shift in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, one of the most important books in the history and philosophy of science. Paradigms are shared worldviews that structure the way science is done. They are broad in scope, impacting many aspects of a given scientific discipline or many disciplines. They function for a very long time (i.e. generations) and never change overnight or even in a year. Despite their modern usage, in their original conception they were solely applicable to the natural sciences. There are no paradigms or paradigm shifts in business, nor in technology, or in anything else. Paradigm shifts happen when over time a “sufficient number of anomalies are identified, which lead to the replacement of one paradigm by another."
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Fiction
