Microfiction

Doll’s Eyes
Olivia kept the doll clutched tightly to her chest as EMS workers wrapped her in a blanket. They had cleaned the blood from her face, but no one seemed to notice the sanguine polka dots on the doll’s dress.
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Fiction
Cluck This, I’m Out
“Could you fucking not,” Geneva hissed, using the massive emery board to bat away another strike. “Stop moving!” “Everything is okay, dear?” called a heavily accented voice from the kitchen window.
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Fiction
Modern Russian Propaganda Street Art
May 14, 2023: pro-war “Z-patriotic” Russian street artists Sasha Montlevivh and Alexey Chizhov sprayed a triptych of Chechnya President Ramzan Kadyrov, Wagner chief Evgeny Prigozhin, and Vladimir Putin on the Kadyrov bridge in St.Petersburg, Russia. Referring to a classical Soviet triptych of Marx, Engels, and Lenin (below), the graffiti suggests KPP are the founders of the Russian “New Order.”
By Lana V Lynx3 years ago in Fiction
Nothing is Free
A rich man named John called the people who are his advisors in each field like audit,growth,leading, management, financial. He asked them to do a favour for him. They'll get reward with money or whatever they want for that certain amount. He wants to share wisdom of knowledge to his future generation so that they can be focused and secure his assets as how he has been doing. After a lot of works, his advisors came up with several volumes of book of wisdom and presented them to the rich man. John gave a feedback to the advisors that, “Its too long so people wouldn't read it, I'm sure they won't even touch it as everything is going to be digital in future. Who would even try to read a volumes of book? ".So he asked them to condensing it would be looking better and easy to read.
By Vishnu Priya3 years ago in Fiction
Rubbed the Wrong Way
“So a genie pops out of a lamp— a lava lamp, which was a weird thing for you to rub in the first place— and you automatically assume I’m going to grant you wishes? Wow.”
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Fiction
Heather on the Moors: Exploring the Enchanting Beauty of England's Iconic Landscapes
Once upon a time, nestled amidst the rolling hills and misty landscapes, there existed a quaint village named Silverbrook. The villagers had a tale they whispered in hushed tones, a story of mystery and enchantment that revolved around a young maiden named Heather.
By diwahar 20043 years ago in Fiction
We Bury It
“What do you want to do with it?” “What do you mean, what do we want to do? We’re calling the police!” “No we’re not. We do that and it’s all over. They’ll think it was us! No, we bury it.”
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)3 years ago in Fiction
Remotely Possible
“I understand that it’s company policy to be in-office at least three days every week, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are three unicorns outside my house. They’ve knocked over my trash can, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be leaving any time soon. What? No, I can’t just make a run for my car, are you kidding me? If I get trampled or gored, I won’t even be able to work remotely. No. Yeah, I remember, but Cheryl also rides a gryphon to work. Okay. Yes, I’ll do Thursday next week as well. Thanks, bye.”
By Tiffany Mercer3 years ago in Fiction
School's In
Janice wrapped her arms over her chest to still the sound of her thudding heart. She didn’t know who he was, but he terrified her. Cowering in the arts cupboard, she prayed she would escape his notice.
By Tracey Zielinski3 years ago in Fiction
Chthonic Value
“What is most precious to you, Mrs. Abernathy. That, was my fee.” Without light, she could only feel that damp, maroon liquid running down her hands, eager to mingle with the freshly unearthed dirt. The cheap shovel she bought with what little money once remained from the settlement had long shattered from the frigid earth. And so, her fingers, nearly worked to the bone, excavated. Exhaustingly. Desperately.
By Tom Siv3 years ago in Fiction
Lucky
A black cat crossing your path isn't bad luck, I reminded myself. Knowledge that would make my daughter's dropped cake no less devastating.
By Darin Robinson3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Hug
My feet hit the pavement in controllable cadences. A chip placed at birth to shield from touch would be activating soon. The aegis field. People in the streets hugging. His house in view.
By Aura of Viv3 years ago in Fiction