The soft smell of dust was the only thing he could perceive for a solid minute. Then, with a great rustle, he rose. His feet were sore from disuse, as was his back.
“What is… I was working on something, yeah?” Continue reading
Tag Archives: Microfiction
Microfiction: A Lot Of Screens
They hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. Someone mentioned him at a dinner party, and it led to them visiting his house the next day. His butler let them in when they asked what had happened. Continue reading
Microfiction: The Lake In Another Place
Above me, the tree is letting loose its streamers, its confetti. It’s drifting down the crinkled orange leaves and depositing them upon the water. I take a long sigh, not in frustration, but a release of everything that is not this peaceful moment.
My phone rings gently against my hip, and I check who’s calling. Continue reading
Microfiction: Goopy
His eyes were slimy things, goop dripping down upon his chin from those misty globules. He stumbled around, unable to see past the sheen of pure mucus. Continue reading
Microfiction: Dream of Tar
Every night I see a pit of bubbling black. It is a brief dream, and I am standing above it, looking down. It pops and the air escaping makes words in languages I’ve never heard. I spend each morning researching them, trying to understand what they mean. Continue reading
Microfiction: Magic For A New Era
With a slight chortle on her lips, she read the words. Then looked back up.
“That’s not a word; that’s not English.”
The deity lowered the glasses he wore for fashion only and cocked up an eyebrow. “Oh, do you think you know the reality of the situation? I was there when language was formed—I saw the very concept spring forth.”
“Still not English,” she said, crossing her arms. She took a sip from her tenth cup of coffee. Continue reading
Microfiction: The Topical Cream
Apply directly to the head, the bottle instructed. It will cure what ails you. Continue reading
Microfiction: The Curious Bottle
Two scientists stood over the glass bottle, ogling it. Neither wanted to touch the thing, for obvious reasons.
“It filters,” one said. Continue reading
Microfiction: The House With The Small Hamper
Several families, couples, even a few wayward homeless people had stayed in that house, but they all left. They all fled, basically, slowly, yes, moving being what it is—but fled just the same from this house. They noticed the hamper, and tried to remove it, and found that they couldn’t. Continue reading
Microfiction: You’re Hired
“Oh, I have someone I pay to do that,” he said, putting up his feet on an oak stool. “They handle all my cooking.”
“He pays really well!” came a shout from the kitchen. Continue reading
Microfiction: Revision
Sing a song loudly, and they will hear.
“But who is ‘they?’” he asked, and the narrator looked down at him and quirked his mouth.
“I don’t know, I’m being vaguely biblical, I guess?” Continue reading
Microfiction: Bad Superpowers
So, you all know the gimmick, yeah? A superpower but with a horrible, awful downside? Cool, cool. Then step right up and spin the wheel! You all want superpowers, right? That’s what everyone wants, right? Continue reading
Microfiction: That Special Drink
After a moment, after dropping down deep, the wizard Calcif emerged from it with his head swimming. He shook his head from side to side, letting his hair whip around in sharp motions. He rubbed at his eyes; the light hurt them. Continue reading
Microfiction: Talking To A Diety
“When I saw you, the first time, it disgusted me.”
A great thing for a god to say to you.
“But then, well, I saw the point to your meager species.” Continue reading
Microfiction: Mic Dropping
Amidst the violence, when the shady deals were just being struck, and the drugs hitting streams of blood at the rate of a brain burst, he plugged in his instrument and warmed up his other physical one. The microphone crackled against his breath, and he sang a few languid notes. Continue reading
Coolerbs Writes 