Microfiction
The Ballroom
The ball is in full swing. The music swells and flows as couples swirl together on complicated patterns. The pianoforte, cornopean, flute and violins make a harmonious sound a they play a mixture of traditional quadrilles and other patterns interspersed with more modern, more scandalous music like waltzes. Even rarer, a Highland reel can be heard, leading to raucous laughter as the eject couples attempt the complicated patterns. Other sounds like the clicking of glasses float around the musicians' music, sometimes complementing but more often competing as lemonade and wine are consumed by those gathered.
By Dionearia Red4 days ago in Fiction
A Nameless Person in an Empty Place
She felt nameless. It was an easy enough situation to slip into, watching the city slip by during her morning commute. She was as faceless, nameless, and insignificant as every other person on the hover bus. She was just another person dressed up in professional clothes, getting ready to step into her quiet, albeit stressful job, where she sat at a computer for most of the day.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA5 days ago in Fiction
The spell that turned land to darkness - Part 1. Content Warning.
The spell that was supposed to save the land from the darkness killed it instead, and the sun was gone forever. At least that was what they told me when they blamed me for the death of the land. They wanted to hang me and leave me there, but the one I least expected to save me arrived at the last possible moment. The one everyone spoke of but didn’t know existed – the myth that was only spoken of in shadows.
By Minou J. Linde5 days ago in Fiction
The spell that turned land to darkness - Part 2. Content Warning.
Blake. His name, a whisper in my mind. A single word that seemed to rattle the very essence of my beating heart. My bones turned fluid, and I could barely stand, could barely breathe. The air felt drier somehow. I needed to escape this place, but the rope bit into my skin, marring my wrists and making me bleed. I could almost taste the iron on my tongue.
By Minou J. Linde5 days ago in Fiction
Sack of Potatoes
What was I thinking of when I dragged you through that neon-lit back alley? The one where the dogs pissed and the cats slept with all the old restaurant scraps like linens. What was I thinking carrying you over my shoulders like a corpse through the ugliest part of town?
By Silver Daux6 days ago in Fiction
