Microfiction
The Frog King
The Frog King ruled over the swampy kingdom of Toktik. His castle consisted of crooked lily pads, glittering snail shells and a tower made from old tin cans. All day long he hopped across the marketplace, loudly proclaiming that nobody could croak as magnificently as he could.
By Christian Bassabout a month ago in Fiction
I Need A Vacay... 🏖️🏝️🏖️
The following microfiction piece that I wrote titled I Need A Vacay was inspired by uber-fabulous visual artist Annie Lee's lively painting above, titled Spin Cycle . I Need A Vacay by Tiffany Gordon It's Saturday afternoon, and my kids and I are currently at the laundry mat because our new matchbox-sized two-bedroom apartment has no laundry room. Sometimes I wonder what I am paying $2000 a month for. My crib is no bigger than a roach motel! 😂 Lord, these twin knee babies of mine are making mischief at my feet. Their big brother Bronzer is no better. He is using the open dryer door as a jungle gym as we speak.
By Tiffany Gordonabout a month ago in Fiction
Two Birds
You see there were these two birds who were flying around the sky looking for just the perfect place to light. They saw trees of varying heights and well as bushes that were way too small. They saw this batch of flowers in a bush high on a hill. The soared above this area several times just to make sure no other animals had claimed it. No one has claimed this spot of multi-colored flowers that seem to match their colorings as well. They have found their Home Sweet Home and swooped down to make their claim to living together.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
A Trail
There I was walking along as well as kind of being pushed along by some entity. I felt something the moment I entered that path and it seemed to be leading me somewhere yet nowhere. It was cold to warm to hot to warm to cold and then to very cold to almost freezing. I just continued to walk, and it seemed that this entity just wanted some company for a while for it led me to the gates that I entered through what seemed like hours ago but was only about an hour since I came here. Happy Halloween!
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
The Musical Mad Monkey Mantra of Hope as Dope🌹🌹
🌹The Mantra Solution to the CyberFunk Crisis 🌹 Study hard and research, for we will create living, interactive, electronic hypertexts that shall ignite, transform, transmigrate, and move others, regardless of gender, age, race, or beliefs.
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayneabout a month ago in Fiction
You Can Call Me AI...
Note: for the Challenge, I'm using the following piece by Jasmine Aguilar: Reason why it was chosen: we are living with Artificial Intelligence, and there are many concerns that it could take over and even destroy us (many of these concerns come from the very creators of such technology). I thought that I should approach this with a sense of humour, referencing one of my favourite nonsensical Paul Simon songs (see the link below...and pay attention to the lyrics).
By Kendall Defoe about a month ago in Fiction
Dearly Beloved, We are Gathered Here . . .
Happy Zappy Retirement, Dearest Dr. Bo Bob! After 100 years of teaching at the University of Lappy Happiness, we all wish you the warmest Wappy Dappiness to your future, the students will cry, freeze, and be in tears for 55 years because you meant so much to their mental minds since you gave the easiest grades, and always provided them open book tests, allowing them to use google, AI.
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayneabout a month ago in Fiction
In a Yellow Wood
It’s 3:15 in the afternoon, you check the clock again. Wondering if he’s alright. A gnaw in the pit of your stomach like every weekday afternoon. What if she’s trying to get back in his life again? Would she do that behind your back? You don’t trust her not to, so you set out the pizza rolls on a pan and stick them in the oven. 3:16, he’s late. Then you go to the living room and peek out through the curtains. There he is, standing there talking to the girl from down the street. She’s a cute girl and you notice the way Michael blushes as she twirls her hair around her finger. He’s not on his bike; he’s holding the handles as if he walked it home instead of riding it. Probably to walk alongside her. You look down the sidewalk and see another kid, head down, hands in his hoodie pockets. A loner. You can relate; you didn’t have many friends growing up either. That’s probably what made you so easy for your ex. She wrapped you around all five fingers and some toes. Someone, especially someone that beautiful, gave you attention. That was all it took. The kid with the hoodie looks up, directly at you, making eye contact. You duck back inside. But not before you saw little Suzie or whatever her name is down the street give your son Michael a peck on the cheek. He was bright red. You rush back to the kitchen.
By Raine Fielderabout a month ago in Fiction
The Dust Between Us. Content Warning.
Preamble : I almost forgot about Sasha's fun challenge. But I had a few moments to spare and decided to dive into L.C'.s wondrous portfolio of stories, where I found her drabble, "Unnatural" As I'm a massive fan of her work and she's a good pal, I decided to be mercilessly Paul in my mangling of her rather poignant tale.
By Paul Stewartabout a month ago in Fiction
The Unexpected Guest
You step off the train into the damp evening air, the collar of your coat pulled high against the chill. The platform is empty, save for a single flickering streetlamp that casts long, warped shadows across the concrete. You check your watch, realizing with a sudden spike of adrenaline that you are exactly an hour late. You curse under your breath. A slip of paper flutters out of your pocket, and as you reach down to grab it, you link you hear footsteps echoing right behind you. You whip your head around to see the branches of a small tree tapping on a nearby station window. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes from your lips. You’ve never been to this part of town before, and you pull your coat tighter against yourself as you examine the slip of paper under the street light that is fluttering in time with your nerves.
By Ellie Hoovsabout a month ago in Fiction
