Microfiction
Toadie
Well, now she’d done it. Ash was already starting to regret the decision to call out her teacher. But really, she was a mage. You could do almost anything with a spell. Why did she have to do manual labor? Washing dishes by hand was not on her to do list. But neither was cleaning out the animal pens in the barn. Now she was tasked with doing both daily until the end of term. Note to self, do not call the wart faced gamekeeper “Toadie” to her face. Especially in front of the entire school.
By Eileen Roof3 years ago in Fiction
Beyond the Glow: An Unexpected Connection
In the heart of a bustling city, a man sat on a park bench, engrossed in his digital realm. People passed by, lost in their own worlds. A little girl approached, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What's inside that glowing rectangle?" she wondered aloud. The man looked up, startled. He glanced at his device, then at the girl. With a faint smile, he handed it to her. In that instant, a connection sparked, bridging the gap between generations. As the girl explored the marvels within, the man realized the true value lay not in the device, but in the shared wonder of discovery.
By george jones-thompson3 years ago in Fiction
Hack Boy
Yaila deplored this new tendency of his to invade her thoughts. Three times today, she had completely checked out of a real conversation and into an imaginary one with him. He murmured all the right things and looked dazzling doing it. It was ridiculous how many hours she was wasting on daydreams.
By TheSpinstress 3 years ago in Fiction
Intersecting Lines
Two lost lovers meet under the clock at Grand Central Station, the point where x and y come together. The minutes tick by, people pass, trains come and go, but for them, time moves backwards. His smile brings back spring. Her eyes bring back snowy winters. A lost touch, a familiar voice, an unfinished story. The question of what could have been if different choices were made. But tonight, he will get on one train and she on another, headed in opposite directions, as they did years ago, each one, a line, with a definite trajectory, never to intersect again.
By Samantha Parry3 years ago in Fiction
