Microfiction
Imperishable
“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” 1 Corinthians 15: 51-52
By Hannah Moore7 days ago in Fiction
What Now?. Content Warning.
I wasn't what you'd call a golden child. Let's just say that my single mom had her hands full. One of my earliest memories happened the summer before I turned five. My mom took me to the park. I was curious how far I could fly if I jumped out of the swing. When I landed, my squall may have awakened the dead. My mom came running and yelled, "What now, Lucy?"
By Julie Lacksonen7 days ago in Fiction
In Like A Lion
The murder of crows circled above, dread harbingers of his army’s advance. Pasha gazed at the hill before them taking in every curve as though it were a beautiful woman lounging on a chaise. Atop the promontory sat a squat square keep, its angles jarring against the rolling cliff. It was many generations older than Pasha dared hope to recite, the head and seat of some trumped up local lordling. All Pasha knew was that he lay in their way.
By Matthew J. Fromm8 days ago in Fiction
THE SCRIBBLER
He scribbles sometimes, though usually with a heavy heart. He is not a man who easily casts the burden of his grievances onto others; instead, he prefers to breathe his miseries into his journals. Only upon those worn pages does he strip away his disguise and expose his true self.
By Jack Scribes8 days ago in Fiction
The Dancer. Content Warning.
For RM Stockton's March Write Club Prompt The Dancer He was the best, admired by many and complimented by more. He had been a classical ballet dancer since before he was a teenager, and became renowned. Then his fame spread and he became the most respected dancer in the land.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 8 days ago in Fiction
