Microfiction
The Skull Washed Ashore
The Skull Washed Ashore The tide was slow that morning, dragging itself across the shore with a heavy sound that seemed to settle into the bones rather than pass through the ears, and the sky hung low in a dull grey weight that made the whole stretch of beach feel closed in, as though the world had narrowed to that one place and refused to open beyond it. I had walked there many times before, enough to know every shift in the sand and every curve of the shoreline, yet that day something felt wrong in a way that could not be easily named, something quiet and watchful that seemed to exist just beyond the edge of thought.
By George’s Girl 2026 12 days ago in Fiction
The Malfunctioning Time Machine Part One. Content Warning.
PART ONE The Malfunctioning Time Machine Opening Prose: When the Marble Remembered the Century The revolving doors exhaled her into the lobby like a secret the building had been holding too long.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 13 days ago in Fiction
Gone Fishing
"The store is closed, because my grandma, apparently the queen of the fairies in a witness protection program, is missing, and I have to impersonate her at the Blooming Festival to prevent a civil war and potentially enter a political marriage." was too long.
By Sasha Desideri13 days ago in Fiction
‘Drew’ his Breath away
Tremors ran through his hands, shaking the envelope along with them. Drew Hollister stood in front of his life-long friend, known as Miss Azalea, both holding their college application response letters. The tension was palpable. It all came down to this….
By Gabriel Shames14 days ago in Fiction
Like Black Mercury. Runner-Up in Something Is Beginning, I Think Challenge.
My eyes opened. I can't say that I opened my eyes because once my eyes were open, I tried to move and discovered I couldn't move any part of my body, except my eyes. I couldn't even blink.
By John R. Godwin14 days ago in Fiction
The Spark
They say it happens in an instant. That there is this moment when it is not, and another when it is, and in between, a turn between the two. Perhaps that is true, but perhaps, too, it belies the complexity of an instant, because an instant seldom stands alone.
By Hannah Moore14 days ago in Fiction
