Microfiction

Echoes of Resistance
The streets of Bristol were alive that day, though not with the usual hum of buses and chatter, but with the heavy pulse of voices that demanded to be heard. I had not intended to join the protest—I came to observe, to write, to bear witness—but once I stepped into the swell of people, the energy was impossible to ignore. The banners waved above heads, each one a story, a demand, a prayer. The scent of rain-soaked asphalt mixed with the faint tang of chalk from hastily scrawled messages, leaving the air electric.
By imtiazalam12 days ago in Fiction
The Shape of the Law From the Man of the Mountain
The man from the mountain did not come down shining but that was how people told it later, after years had worn the terror smooth and made a lantern of him in memory. When I first saw him descending through the dusk, he looked like someone who had been pulled through the inside of a storm and returned only in part. Dust clung to the hollows of his face. His robe was split at the shoulder. His mouth moved once before sound came out as if speech had been thinned by the height and had not yet thickened again in the air below; still the people surged toward him. They always did when fear and hope wore the same face.
By Cadma12 days ago in Fiction
The Devil is in The Details
My crisp, blue hiking boots steadily carry me up the hill. A light mist and subtle darkness have descended upon the land. The vividly grey moon smiles down on every living thing in these enchanting woods. Blankets of dazzling stars cover me tightly, sending a warm, loving, fuzzy feeling down my spine.
By Lolly Vieira14 days ago in Fiction
Earmuffs. Runner-Up in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge.
The city-marked pick-up truck pulled along side the concrete barrier, its high-visibility, earmuff clad occupants shining a flashlight down into the ditch, into the ramshackle constructs and cluster of tents beside the highway.
By jl wood15 days ago in Fiction
Serve and Protect
Serve and protect, serve and protect. Uphold the law, for the good of law-abiding citizens. I wear my badge with pride. I wear my badge with honour. Protect and serve. That's what I signed up for. I stalk these streets, keeping the peace. Ensuring that the good people are safe from the riffraff that is becoming more of a problem with every day that passes.
By Paul Stewart15 days ago in Fiction
Cheers
Tina, I’m so honored to be your maid of honor! Haha. But seriously. I was actually proud of you for asking me. Obviously, I love you bestie!
By Sam Spinelli15 days ago in Fiction
The Train That Never Arrives
The train station had always been punctual. That was one of the things people said about Brookfield when they tried to describe why they stayed. The bakery opened at six, the river flooded every third spring, and the 7:42 train to the city arrived at exactly 7:42.
By Melissa 15 days ago in Fiction
The Man Who Never Blinks
When Mr. Calder started working at the post office, people noticed two things immediately. First, he never blinked.
By Melissa 15 days ago in Fiction
The House Across the Street
When the house across the street caught fire, nobody called the fire department. At least, not while I was watching.
By Melissa 15 days ago in Fiction
Infinite Fidelity. Top Story - March 2026.
Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for being here today. For those that don’t know me, I’ve been best friends with the groom since middle school.
By Matthew J. Fromm15 days ago in Fiction
Imperishable . Winner in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge.
“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 Moore15 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 Lacksonen15 days ago in Fiction