Microfiction

Late Again
The school was deserted, harsh fluorescents illuminating a lone figure: my son Sam, waiting patiently, eyes hollow in the twilight. An apology slipped from my lips, unanswered. The car's interior was unusually chilly.
By M Dannenfelser3 years ago in Fiction
Self-H—indsight is 20/20
Liza sat on the floor, her body shaking with racking sobs. Tears flowing in torrents down her cheeks. The thoughts had come racing back, violent and unstoppable:
By V. N. Roesbon3 years ago in Fiction
The Wine-Bearer Fairy
She always knows what I need; a simple glass to relax. We giggle together as the edges fade out; a drunken comradery between us.
By Megan Baker (Left Vocal in 2023)3 years ago in Fiction
"Special Scrabble"
The scrabble tiles rattled in the bag as she drew. She gave him a suspicious look. “You’ve already picked ALL of your tiles? Why so many?”
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)3 years ago in Fiction
Five Thoughts on My Knife Fight
No time to think. The man with the knife was coming toward her. I charged him. First thought: Get in his way! Easy. Second thought: Knock the knife away!
By Sawyer Kuhl3 years ago in Fiction
The Wake
The four veterans arrive last at my grandfather's wake. Grandma sends them to the kitchenette. "They smell like death," she says. As if death isn't already laid out in state on the living room table.
By Alina Z3 years ago in Fiction
Looking Glass
Thunder shook the house like a monster demanding entry. One…Two…Edna counted until it passed. Silence. The house had become a tomb. Her adult children had rebuked every plea for forgiveness. Sometimes—like right now—she’d speak to the pictures instead.
By Muse3 years ago in Fiction
Puberty Has Colonized My Land
The mirror’s function is pretty simple. It’s supposed to reflect who you are. But mine never has. My breasts extrude like peaks and valleys on a foreign landscape. Puberty has colonized my land, and my invaders refuse to retreat. They bring their arms to my body each month and are not satisfied until blood is shed. It is an unwinnable war, and all I want to do is wave my white flag in surrender. Or return my mirror. It has never reflected who I really am, and I fear it never will.
By E.K. Daniels3 years ago in Fiction
Sacrifice
Closing her eyes, Arabella stepped forward, accepting the darkness and pain inside her. As she moved deeper into the abyss of the unknown, she gasped. She suddenly realized the darkness didn’t seem as cold as she once thought. In fact, it was welcoming, almost friendly.
By Madaeyson 3 years ago in Fiction
Stranded in Turnbull
Turnbull Canyon was a 7-mile winding road 20 miles east of downtown Los Angeles. Disturbing stories about unsolved murders, mystery plane crashes, bodies hanging from trees, to Satanic Cults that were rumored to have abducted young children for ritual sacrifices.
By Tony Baca3 years ago in Fiction
The Rake
I don't know how I got here; I thought I went the right way. I'm so deep into the woods, I can't see or hear the party! How stupid of me to come out here by myself!
By Megan Baker (Left Vocal in 2023)3 years ago in Fiction
Arrival
Consider how nature reclaims its place, making tombs of once-thriving cities. I arrived after the war and quickly learned why men feared the dark. It’s why my father took me out at night. No fear in familiarity, he’d say, securing another trap. Then They devoured him too.
By Muse3 years ago in Fiction