Microfiction
Scared Half To Death
Bang! Was that a gunshot? Everybody in the room scatters, trying to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere safe. Sally hides under the table, trembling.
Colleen MillsteedPublished about 5 hours ago in FictionMissing The Forest For The Trees
Peter looks lovingly at his fiancée as she sleeps. How’d he get so lucky? Amber rolls onto her side, opens her eyes and smiles at Peter. “Good morning my love,” she whispers.
Colleen MillsteedPublished about 5 hours ago in FictionThe Telltale Signs of a Dying Organization
The existence pattern of an association, similar as any living element, includes times of development, strength, and decline. Perceiving the indications of a withering association is vital for partners to go to preventive lengths or settle on informed conclusions about their contribution. The decay of an association is much of the time set apart by a mix of inside and outer elements that on the whole disintegrate its imperativeness and seriousness. Understanding these signs can help in diagnosing the wellbeing of an association and carrying out systems to resuscitate or effortlessly wind down its activities.
bakhtawarkhanPublished about 7 hours ago in FictionThe Essence of a Legacy
An inheritance is the engraving of a person's or an element's presence, woven into the texture of history and society. It is a mosaic of recollections, accomplishments, values, and impacts that endure long after one's presence has blurred. The substance of an inheritance is multi-layered, incorporating different aspects including individual, familial, social, and social viewpoints. This persevering through influence fills in as a demonstration of the existence lived, directing people in the future and forming shared perspective.
bakhtawarkhanPublished about 8 hours ago in FictionThe Heatwave Chronicles
In the modest community of Clearwater, the late spring of 2023 would be recognized as one of the most boiling ever. The persevering heatwave transformed the curious town into a virtual broiler, with temperatures taking off over 100 degrees for a really long time. The inhabitants, not used to such outrageous climate, attempted to adjust to the burning intensity.
bakhtawarkhanPublished about 8 hours ago in FictionThe Heart of Evergreen House
Settled toward the finish of a calm circular drive in the beguiling town of Willowbrook stood an impressive old home known as Evergreen House. For ages, it had been a position of warmth, chuckling, and love. The house, with its ivy-shrouded walls and stupendous oak entryways, held inside it a gold mine of recollections.
bakhtawarkhanPublished about 8 hours ago in FictionThe Royal Flush: A Toilet's Tale
In the curious town of Puddlebrook, there stood a beguiling little house with an impossible to miss mysterious. This mystery was not secret in the upper room nor covered in the nursery. All things being equal, it lay inside the washroom, where a common looking latrine drove a remarkable presence.
bakhtawarkhanPublished about 8 hours ago in Fiction155 Follow the Money
Philip Morris is one of the world's largest tobacco companies, worth $160 billion. Its stock price is $99.93/share, a 5-year increase of 30%.
Gerard DiLeoPublished about 14 hours ago in Fiction- Content Warning
I Was In The House When The House Burned Down
Introduction This is for the challenge below and inspired by the title of the wonderful song by the sadly missed Warren Zevon.
Mike Singleton - MikeydredPublished about 16 hours ago in Fiction A Disappointing Day
Louise's mum was the Mistress of Understatement. Her day had started dismally with overdone toast. The smell was so acrid that she opened the window and sprayed Febreze to get rid of the charcoal smell.
Rachel DeemingPublished about 17 hours ago in FictionThe Consequences
They are patiently waiting for nightfall, the tension mounting and wishing the deed was done. Anxiety heightens with every minute, closer to their goal, their promise.
Colleen MillsteedPublished a day ago in FictionFor the Love of
The sirens wailed and grandpa’s knotted feet shuffled through the hallway. “Kenji? Kenji-chan!” He peered into the tidy room where his grandson’s tatami reclined and furrowed his brow.