Microfiction
Signoff
I will miss the excited conversations we had about you, when you implemented new programs on Fridays. Poor Jerry won’t know how to work now, not cleaning spontaneous viruses off your laptop. Thank you for eventually signing off on the group health care coverage! We will never forget you, no matter what the therapist says. I would say goodbye, but I know we’ll see you next week for Free Donut Wednesday. And remember, it now starts an hour later, because of Daylight Savings Time. You don’t need “leftover” bags now, amirite?
By Meredith Harmonabout a month ago in Fiction
The Stroke of Midnight 10
Again, I looked around the room and yes, no masks, but did notice on the art book now there was a lock on it but no key. In leaving that room I wondered i they were really all gone so I searched each room and not a sign of any masks. The doorbell rang for it startled me. I answered and what did I hear. You guessed it "Trick or treat!" I did have a bowl of candy set out I doled it out to whomever came by and luckily no child had on a mask of any kind either.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
The Stroke of Midnight 9
There we were me and 'Queen Mask' just like those old cowboy westerns standing facing each other ready to draw. The art book was open and "Queen Mask' approaching slowly. Oh, masks of the sky hear me now for the book is open so let all your friends come join you so Mote it be. The room seemed to grow thick for masks and going towards the book just like a whirlwind. As events began to settle, I took a deep breath. I looked around and everything was quiet but not like before. There were no masks anywhere. Praise be.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
Who could she possibly be?
Early evening would often find me sitting by Beckenham village green after a walk. It was here that I first saw her. I thought she looked familiar but couldn’t be sure. Once, I went to speak to her, but she was gone before I got close enough.
By Raymond G Taylorabout a month ago in Fiction
The Stroke of Midnight 8
Since I am getting my footing back after being sort of froze, I decided to walk around the room. The room became eerily quiet again, but I went around and studied the room. I noticed an old art book on pottery that was opened to a page on masks. I continued to walk around. Out the eeriness the sound of creaking began, and I began looking around for there was an old rocking chair that I forgot I put in this room rocking with a mask smiling at me. The rocking seemed to rock faster. Glancing at the book now.
By Mark Grahamabout a month ago in Fiction
