Microfiction
Mama's Magic Whisper. Content Warning.
If you see The Champ in public, you will see him smiling, waving, signing autographs. Yet his pain is always with him. His ability to disguise his pain was a discipline he had been crafting since an early age, and over time it was welded and wrought to near perfection.
By John R. Godwin11 months ago in Fiction
Shut It Down
The lookalike glanced up from its tablet as Elon walked in. “Good news,” the lookalike said, “I think we can get humankind on the side of AI and Optimus robots if we keep pushing jobs becoming ‘optional.’ And they loved that roasting people at a party bit.”
By Stephanie Hoogstad11 months ago in Fiction
The Room That Appears to Only One Person
If you believe, dear human, that your life is nothing more than daily routines—waking up early in the morning, going to work, spending pleasant time with friends, discussing household management with your spouse, taking care of your children and searching for the best ways to lead them toward happiness and success, then going to bed as a just person who wrongs no one and feels satisfied that he is successful—if you believe that all these beautiful habits are what every ambitious person strives for in order to live in a way that contributes to the success of any society… is that really enough? Is life limited to these daily routines until death? Of course not. And you must discover another world, no less important than your current
By ahmed mahmoud11 months ago in Fiction
A Day without my phone
Yawning, I stirred sleepily in bed, reaching for the edge of my bedside table to grab my phone. The time read 7 a.m. on the dot. I had an uneasy feeling that something was amiss, but I just couldn't figure out what. It took one rub of my eyes and a quick glance at my phone's screen to know what was wrong—ugh, my battery percentage. It showed a glowing 2%, or was it just my mind making my doom shine like the sun? I immediately reached out to connect it to my charger plugged into the socket. Shit, I almost screamed. No electricity. Wait a minute… there had been no sign of light since yesterday, and with an unknown reason as to why, plus a dead power bank, I could already picture how painfully slow my day would go. The blinking 1% on my screen brought me back to the present. How great, I sighed, lying back in bed with a thud. Here comes the usual 30-second countdown before shutting down. Whose phone does that? Well, mine, I thought dryly. But I could've sworn that I saw a grin on the 5-second mark… 3, 2, 1—and dead. There it went, a huge part of my day… chunked off. I lay back for what felt like hours before checking my watch to see 7:15. I better get up now, or else… I stopped mid-sentence, wondering again just how much I could get done without my phone—plus no social media scrolls. Lying in bed felt like torture. No music. I almost cried out. "What a perfect day," I said, rolling my eyes. It was just me and my reflection staring in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and headed straight for the shower. Maybe the warmth from the water would warm my day? My favorite breakfast of sandwich, fries, and tea didn't appeal to me, but I still finished it (can't take a pass on that one). Reading a book was one thing that never felt like a chore—oh, romance novels… Picking up my only timepiece, 9:15… ahh, I didn't know whether to be happy or sad that time had passed but still not enough. Stretching my full length on the sofa felt good as I flipped through the pages… 9:25. By now, not even my love for the novel could keep me still. For the first time in a while, I saw myself doing deep cleaning on a weekday: scrubbing my bedroom tiles, cobwebbing webless walls, arranging my bookshelf, then the bathroom and kitchen, and finally the laundry. By 2, everywhere was spotless and dazzling, like the puppies in Barbie: Diamond Castle. It was about time for a quick late nap. I showered and plopped on my bed, a bit thankful for the distraction and proud of myself. "A quick nap my foot," I said, jumping out of bed by 6 p.m. I felt too tired to work out. Who knows how much more I could've slept if that woman wasn’t trying to give me food, I thought, as I grabbed my rumbling tummy. "I know," I whispered to it as I staggered to the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab an already-prepped meal. I didn't pay much attention to the light that shone from it—well, not until I heard the buzzing sound coming from my plugged electric fan that had died on me. Finally, I gave a little dance and screamed so loud the beds flew in different directions. Seated at the counter, I laughed at myself and how I had sulked throughout the day. At least I brought out the hard worker in me, I all but grinned. Ah yes, I raced to charge my phone and found it perfectly plugged in—a not-so-subtle reminder to get another power bank in case of another surprise like this. Ouch… I take back my "hard worker" words, I said, groaning as I clutched my back while walking to the kitchen. Welp, what a day, I thought, laughing out loud.
By Gift Abotsi 11 months ago in Fiction
The Observer Effect
Dr. Aris Thorne’s mission was one of pure, academic observation. Her destination: a Neolithic settlement in Northern Europe, 3000 BCE. The date: the Autumn Equinox. Her goal: to finally document the undisrupted "Rite of Balance," a ceremony where ancient druids were said to harmonize the dying sun with the coming dark, ensuring a mild winter. It was the holy grail of temporal anthropology.
By Habibullah11 months ago in Fiction
Couch Potato
It had been an extraordinarily long day for Gary. Much, much longer than any previous day. Gary was tired, so much more tired than he had been on any previously long day he had had. I should sleep well tonight, Gary thought to himself as he sat down. Sinking deeply into his well-worn plush recliner, his thoughts echoed: I should sleep.
By Ashley McMahon11 months ago in Fiction
The Stone Remembers
Long before rivers were charted and kingdoms recorded on maps, Sumatra's waters carried more than trade — they carried whispers of ambition, power, and memory. In the mud and currents of a forgotten riverbank, history waits for those who dare to listen.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin11 months ago in Fiction
