#Spring

She woke up after a long, deep sleep, and stretched her limbs. The sky was blue, and the sun was saying good morning.

She breathed in fresh air. She took her time, and dressed in light green.

Time to check on her neighbour. He was still sleeping. That didn’t stop the squirrel scurrying in his top branches.

Willow smiled. Her tall neighbour Beech was always slow to rise.

A songbird alighted on her, and let out its cry:
The sun is shining. I am so sexy. This is my tree! 🎵

I’m not sure I’m his tree, willow rustled in the light wind in response.

Spring had arrived.

#microfiction #story

One night, the town shook as if from an earthquake. In the morning, the townsfolk found that a new cave opening had appeared in the hillside, a pile of rock and earth near the entrance. A monstrous ogre walked out, towering above the humans. Some remembered seeing it many years before.

“Why have you come here?” asked the mayor, crossing her arms to keep her composure.

“I need a new home. Can I stay here?” the deep, booming voice was incongruent with the pleading question.

The local blacksmith noticed glittering in the debris outside the cave. There was ore, perhaps even gold. He whispered in the mayor’s ear.

“Perhaps we can trade. Can you bring out more of this rock to pay for your stay?” the mayor asked.

“I can. But tell me, does the baker who makes those delicious, tiny éclairs still live here?”

“I do,” the old baker piped up from the crowd.

“I think we have a deal,” smiled the mayor.

#microfiction #story #monster

1000 richest people are approched. "The end of the world is here. Time to go to your doomsday bunker", they are told. The billionaires nodded. They knew this was coming. They were prepared.

So they gathered their loved ones and locked themselves in luxury bunkers. No contact to outside world.

10 years later they emerge. The world has healed. The air is breathable, people are happy. "What was the catastrophy?" they ask the first person they meet.

She screams: "THEY GOT OUT!!!"

#microfiction #billionaires

Smokelong Quarterly #82 is live

https://www.smokelong.com/issue-eighty-two/

#flash #stories #microfiction #literature

"Can you hear me?" said the voice in my head.

"What?! Who said that?" I replied out loud, ignoring the stares.

"Oh good. I'm a symbiote."

"Shit, are you in my brain?"

"No, don't be silly--"

"Attached to my spinal cord? Are you going to control me and subsume my personality?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm talking to you through your earpiece, not your thoughts."

"Oh... What sort of symbiote are you?"

"I'm living on your phone. You might have to charge the battery more frequently."

#microfiction #symbiote #stories

[EDITED!!]

Double Feature (1/2)

Curious about the local culture, I went to see a #play. We entered an amphitheatre of sorts, although the audience sat or stood in the centre, with a few different sets on the slopes around us.

The first scene was in a set on my left; the hero was leaving their home. The second scene introduced the antagonist, in a set straight ahead of me. The coming tension was clear. Good start!

But then two scenes, and later three or more, happened at once in different directions. I didn't know which one to watch or how to follow the plot. I turned this way and that trying to take it all in, but was frustrated.

After the show I spoke to some locals. "How do you follow the #story? I couldn't keep up!"

They looked puzzled. Eventually I saw realisation on someone's face. "Ah, you've only seen the play once. You have to go at least three times to understand the story."

#microfiction

#microfiction #well

He lived down a well. Most people thought it strange and many of us laughed at him.

Oh, he didn't spend all of his time there. He came out for sunlight and fresh air like the rest of us. But his home was down the well.

'But isn't it cramped?' people asked occasionally.
'No, there's plenty of room.'
'Isn't it damp?' they would persist.
'Sometimes.'

And then the big fire came. Many houses were destroyed, despite our best efforts – his included - to draw water as fast as possible.

After that, we stopped laughing. Others joined him living down the well. He was right. There was plenty of room.

There was no denying that the sorceress was beautiful. Her long, dark hair glistened in the sun. Her blue dress swirled as she walked, and the stone set in the silver ring on her finger reflected the green in her eyes. Even when lifting a terrible curse, as she had just done for the miller's family, even when casting a spell to drive away monsters that attacked in the night, her graceful movements never wavered. She was admired, envied, feared and resented in almost equal measure by the townspeople. But they needed her, of that there was now doubt.

Returning home, the sorceress stepped out of the dress and out of the young body. Now people would need consoling. She put on the body of the kindly old wise woman, known locally as the sorceress’s grandmother. She took a deep breath, tested the old voice, and stepped out the back door.

#microfiction #writing #stories

‘You must cleanse yourselves in the three springs before entering the temple,’ said the priest.

We went to the first spring and washed ourselves in the warm water, a pleasant scent of jasmine in the air.

The waters of the second spring were fast-flowing, ice-cold and salty. We only stayed in briefly.

The third spring gurgled out of the mud, and we sank almost to our knees. We playfully daubed each other in dark browns.

We returned to the priest, salty and mud-encrusted. ‘We have cleansed,’ I said.

The priest stared at us open-mouthed, then laughed as they opened the door to the temple.
‘I suppose you have. People usually go in the springs in the reverse order.’

#microfiction #writing

I haven't done an #Introduction here recently. This is my home on #SocialHome, a small patch of the #fediverse. I only post my #writing here, nothing else. Writing isn't my dayjob, so it's sparse and won't fill your feed. Often #microfiction. I follow some writing, art and nature from here. #writingcommunity #amwriting

She was hidden away in a book by two others, for protection. She came out every year. I think she was Autumn. It was an epic tale, I wish I remembered more. I know there was another, a trickster, a shapeshifter, hard to catch, but we pursued him. He was a creature of fire.

Shit, I left the heating on!

I got up, turned it off, and went back to bed. But the dream was lost.

#dreams #truestory #writers #microfiction

"I'd like one of my colleagues to have a look at you. Would you mind removing any jewellery?"

"S-sure, Doctor."

I was surprised by the request, but removed my wedding band and silver earrings.

My doctor returned with a young man sporting a three-day beard.

"This is Mr Michaels," she said and stood back.

"Take a deep breath, please."

No chitchat. I inhaled deeply and as I exhaled I could swear he sniffed my breath.

"Can you raise both arms high?"

This was getting bizarre, but I complied. He definitely sniffed at my armpit!

"Doctor, what’s–"

"Does type II diabetes run in your family?" Mr Michaels cut me off.

"Yes, but the tests showed I didn't–"

"The tests will catch up in a few months." He turned to leave.

"Thank you Mr Michaels."

The doctor turned back to me. "Our early diagnostics have improved dramatically since we began hiring werewolves."

#microfiction #werewolves #writing

Shore leave and a visa to Aeden, the Paradise Planet. I couldn’t believe my luck as we descended through green skies towards the space port.

After landing, I followed the signs to the human processing area. A deep, robotic voice directed me to one of a row of doors. I stepped into a small room with the sterile feel of an operating theatre, and the door closed behind me. I’d heard of Aeden’s rapid vaccination procedure, but didn’t know much about it.

On a table was something that looked like a hospital gown with a harness.

“Put it on,” the voice instructed.

I undressed and put the gown on. I heard a whirring noise above my head and looked up. A metallic arm descended towards me out of a complex array of machinery. It held a large syringe.

“Relax your right arm,” said the voice.

I did my best.

I felt a cold scratch.

Seconds later, I felt dizzy and feverish. Suddenly, my stomach lurched and I gagged. I doubled over and threw up violently. And again. Then I lost control completely and vile liquids came out of all my orifices. It went on and on. I was on my hands and knees, drained, when it finally stopped. I felt sweaty and weak, like a fever breaking after a severe illness. An illness fast-forwarded.

I felt a click behind me and I was lifted in the air by the harness, the soiled gown falling away. Hoses sprayed from several directions, cleaning me and the floor.

A door I hadn’t seen before opened, and I was deposited in a shower cubicle. Warm water flowed pleasantly from above, and a shelf to my right held colourful gels and shampoos.

“You have been successfully vaccinated against 4,252 pathogens dangerous to one or more of the species who visit Aeden. You may proceed.”

I towelled dry, feeling the colour return to my face. I wasn’t even surprised when another previously unseen door opened. I entered a larger sunlit room, a high, wide window showing the pale green sky.

Beachwear sat neatly folded on a chair. On a small table nearby sat an oval glass with a deep orange liquid, a straw and the fruity smell of a cocktail.

“Welcome to Aeden. Enjoy your stay.”

#microfiction #writing #sci-fi #ScienceFiction #paradise #vaccination

It was a stroke of luck
That I stroked the cat
As the old clock struck ten.

At the first loud bong
The cat jumped and meowled
Nearly giving me a stroke myself.

The cat bounded out of the room
As the clocked bonged on,
All claws, fangs and fur

And I was left empty lapped
And wondering
What appointment the cat was late for.

#prompt #stroke #microfiction

---

♲ Tanweer Dar (Tan) - 2022-12-04 09:49:07 GMT

The #MastoPrompt for Sunday 4th December is:

#stroke

The poem or story can include the prompt word or be about the prompt word.

#SmallPoems #Poetry #MicroFiction #SmallStories

"So that's three wishes," the genie said. "Here are the rules:"

From the pockets of her balloon trousers she pulled out a scroll and half rim reading glasses. Her dark hair was pulled back neatly with a tie. I wish my hair would behave so well, I thought, as I wrapped one of my curls around my fingers.

"One. You may not wish for more wishes. Or more genies, or more magic lamps.
"Two. Your Wishes may not affect wishes, genies or magic lamps.
"Three. Recursive, self-referential, or 'meta-wishes' are prohibited."

"I wish you'd chill out," I joked.

"That's a violation of rule two. Wishes may not affect genies. You now have two wishes left. If you'll let me finish,
"Four. Breaking rules may result in wishes being wasted."

"So, I can wish someone dead, as long as it doesn't affect genies or wish-logic?" I asked wryly.

"Yes. Genies are not arbiters of ethics. Experience shows, however, that wishes based on revenge or hatred seldom result in a happy wisher. Wishes intended to please loved ones or acquaintances tend to bring the most happiness."

"Hmmm... I thought most wishes were selfish. Tell me, if I wish for money, would there be some weird consequence? You know, I gain a million euros and then get hit by a bus?"

"No, wishes are interpreted simply."

"OK then, I wish to win the next Euro Lotto jackpot."

"Done. You have one more wish."

"Well, how about this: would you go to dinner with me, say Saturday night?"

"That's a violation of—"

"No!" I interrupted. "It wasn't a wish. I'm asking you out."

"That's most irregular. Especially mid-wishes."

"Fair enough. I have my last wish. I wish for a table for two at Chez Geneviève, this Saturday night, say, 8 o’clock?"

The genie blushed, a hint of purple in her blue cheeks.

"Done," she said. "I'll see you there."

A few more genie tales at my Wordpress account here.

#genie #microfiction #shortstories #stories

#Inktober is here. I'm not one for drawing or painting, but will attempt to #write a paragraph or a few lines each day following the prompts, so it comes together as one story. I won't plan ahead, I'll just see how it goes.

#writing #mywriting #fiction #microfiction

After being forced the 23475th time to see a image of a cat and hear the word "cat", our freshly developed AI sadly had gone mad and vandalised the server it was running on.

#SciFi #OneLiner #MicroFiction #AI #KI #randomshit. ;)

Micro, Sudden, Flash, Short-Shorts: A Brief Survey of Even Briefer Fiction

Gary Lippman Explores Condensed Storytelling

https://lithub.com/micro-sudden-flash-short-shorts-a-brief-survey-of-even-briefer-fiction

#literature #flashfiction #microfiction #stories