Microfiction

Residrool
We've all done it. Spit happens. We fall asleep and there it is. A mouth slightly ajar (no pun intended) releases a little spillover of saliva for us to discover on the pillow, with some embarrassment. However, my most notorious episodes of residrool were in the classroom, not in bed.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
horror
The last person hears a knock. * Hearing a voice while in solitary. ** The tooth fairy pulls good teeth. *** Santa Claus is really Krampus, duh
By Mother Combs (Sharon)3 years ago in Fiction
“Mikesingleton”
Writers Lounge Town Meeting Day! The question was raised in the Writer's Lounge: What is an Example of Being a Wise Writer, and How Can We Better Acquaint Ourselves with the Journey of Being a Writer, One Guy the Town Knew Really Well [HandsomelouiiThePoet] Stands and Declares Openly “You Have To Be, Mikeydred” The Other Writers Stood a bit Confused about the Word.😕 Louii, Corrected himself with a Slower Pronunciation “You Have To Be, Mikesingleton”
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Fiction
Technopause
Always on the cusp, after buying my first computer, a 4-megahertz "screamer," I read the entire DOS book. My MHz were eventually replaced by GHz, a thousand times faster. Over the years I kept up with Moore's law.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
Seizedgaze
I never woke up early enough to see the sunrise, but last night I had fallen asleep on the beach. It had not been planned. I had brought my camera to take photos of the sunset. I took some photos and then froze, in a daze overwhelmed by the beauty. It was as if I had been caught in a witch's spell, I was frozen in wonderment. Unable to move, unable to think, the night passed.
By Antoinette L Brey3 years ago in Fiction
Boddobing, Boddobang, Boddobung
Boddobing. On the island of Sango Jingo, they speak Dilingo. It is unique in linguistics, using what are called vowel movements to alter meaning. One particularly motif covers the exchange of greetings:
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
The Procedure
She sits in a stiff chair with plastic upholstery and wooden legs. Identical chairs line the walls of the room with an occasional side table between them. Tissue boxes are carefully placed on each table. Fluorescent lights cast the room in an earie wash. A muted TV plays in the corner, cycling through an old TV show with bold subtitles at the bottom. A clipboard of paperwork stares up at her from her lap. Her name stands out boldly to her: Sandra Hopprey. Politely, the nurse comes by to collect it and offers her a sympathetic smile.
By Laura Lann3 years ago in Fiction
Salt and Ozone. Top Story - October 2023.
Waves crash against the rocky shore and the sky darkens. I stand on the edge of the pier -a safe distance above the roiling surf. The riotous wind pulls back the hood of my raincoat, but I do not care. A sea mist dampens my brow as I look to the gray horizon. The crash of thunder is muffled by the howling wind.
By Ian Read3 years ago in Fiction
A new type of zombie… Bloodletters
If you ever happen to be born in the world of Bexley’s post-apocalyptic nightmarish realm, you will find yourself smack dab in the middle of either domestic zombie paradise (especially if you're zombie elite) or sprinting for your very life. If you are not running, then as a human you must remain in your crowded bunkers and caves. To save your skin and your blood.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
'ZOMBIES',Mysteries Unearthed
Hey there, fellow curious minds! Today, I want to dive deep into one of the most intriguing, spine-tingling phenomena of our time – the existence of zombies. Now, I know what you're thinking. Zombies? Really? But hang on, because this is a journey into the unknown, and by the end of this article, you might just find yourself questioning everything you thought you knew about the living dead.
By Wunmi 3 years ago in Fiction
Lonzoward
The Prompt Invent a word, then write a microfiction story that encapsulates its meaning. Lonzoward: Preposition. Becoming more appreciative of wonderful poetry.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Fiction
Flistervex
Flistervex Tears and laughter, laughter and tears. They danced together, swaying on the fine line between happiness and sorrow. Sarah's heart was a seesaw, and she sat right in the middle of it.
By Haris Hadzic3 years ago in Fiction