Microfiction
In Like A Lion
The murder of crows circled above, dread harbingers of his army’s advance. Pasha gazed at the hill before them taking in every curve as though it were a beautiful woman lounging on a chaise. Atop the promontory sat a squat square keep, its angles jarring against the rolling cliff. It was many generations older than Pasha dared hope to recite, the head and seat of some trumped up local lordling. All Pasha knew was that he lay in their way.
By Matthew J. Frommabout an hour ago in Fiction
THE SCRIBBLER
He scribbles sometimes, though usually with a heavy heart. He is not a man who easily casts the burden of his grievances onto others; instead, he prefers to breathe his miseries into his journals. Only upon those worn pages does he strip away his disguise and expose his true self.
By Jack Scribesabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
The Dancer. Content Warning.
For RM Stockton's March Write Club Prompt The Dancer He was the best, admired by many and complimented by more. He had been a classical ballet dancer since before he was a teenager, and became renowned. Then his fame spread and he became the most respected dancer in the land.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about 6 hours ago in Fiction
A Clever Trick
Smith was flat broke. He lived in a crummy thatched hut in the village, and every summer, mosquitoes would chew him up alive. Smith was so ticked off but had zilch to do about it, so he snapped at the mosquitoes, “Once I strike it rich, you bugs are gonna get it!” Then Smith hightailed it south to find a job.
By John Brucea day ago in Fiction
A mixed marriage
We all know that this is a mixed marriage (pause for effect)... Between an accountant and a human being (pause for laughter)... and I know you wish the bride and groom every happiness, as I do. I have known Brad and Juliette since we were children. We still argue about that first kiss. Was it me, or was it Brad, who first pressed their lips against that rosy red cheek… or… have you told her the truth yet, Brad? (Pause for more laughter). Well, Bradley, old buddy, you old Romeo, your plight now prevails. You have won the hand of your Juliette (pause for more effect). You won her fair and square... well square, at least (more laughter). Congratulations, Bradley, you have the bride of your dreams. Well done Juliette, you have at last made up your mind. I know… because... you made that crystal clear... this morning… over breakfast.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 days ago in Fiction
