Microfiction
Meandering
Did you dream? The cosmic touch of madness must have found you at some point, slipped into your bedroom, and pried open your thoughts in search of that cream-filled center of your soul. You must remember that electric touch. The thing that jolted through you.
By Silver Dauxabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Let Me Prove It
My buddy Bill had been studying in Germany for three years. But even after he finished his studies, he refused to leave. Instead, he insisted on coming with me to teach in a poor mountainous area, saying he wanted to do his part for rural education in Germany.
By John Brucea day ago in Fiction
The Ping-Pong Gentleman
In a menās table tennis match, John and his opponent were going toe-to-toe, dead even. With the score tied at 4-4, his opponent crushed a wicked smash. John stretched out to save it, but the ball nicked the underside of the table instead of landing fair.
By John Brucea day ago in Fiction
Unto The Child
I never knew what to say, so eventually I stopped saying anything. People accepted my silence so easily, as if they had forgotten they had ever heard my voice. Since I could reply, there was no need to hear the endless voices around me. I shut them out and met conversation and connection with silence and vacant stares. It didnāt take long for people to accept that, too. I was alone in the world, like a moving art piece. People saw me and moved along, recognizing I was not one of them. Understand without knowing that I couldnāt contribute on any level to the lives they were leading.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey2 days ago in Fiction
Underground
Black boots, bomber jacket, ripped jeans, scene hair, tactical boots. I stare at my reflection in the dingy bathroom, water dripping from one of the faucets. The white tile is smeared with dirt and God knows what. But it's the only quiet place to think.
By Amethyst Champagne2 days ago in Fiction
The She-Wolf
Leonard Bilsiter was one of those people who found the real world dull and uninteresting. Instead of engaging with ordinary life, he preferred to speak mysteriously about unseen forces and secret powers. Like a child inventing imaginary worlds, Leonard created his own version of hidden knowledgeābut unlike children, he wanted others to admire and believe him.
By Malak Faisal2 days ago in Fiction
MISS WINCHELSEA'S HEART
Miss Winchelsea had long dreamed of going to Rome. For more than a month before her departure, she spoke of little else. She discussed Roman history, art, poetry, and famous graves as though she had personal ties to them. Some people admired her enthusiasm, but others found it excessive. A few even suggested that she was rather proud of āher Rome.ā Still, Miss Winchelsea believed her passion was refined and intellectual, not boastful. She carefully prepared for the journey, selecting clothes that were sensible yet not obviously tourist-like. Even her red guidebook was hidden in a gray cover to avoid looking common. When the great day came, she stood at Charing Cross Station feeling dignified and adventurous.
By Faisal Khan2 days ago in Fiction
