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 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: 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

Microfiction: A Fight Scene

It came to this, as it always did, as the screaming of the choirs heralded. They’d been chasing her for the past week, ruining her life one life taken at a time. She was sick of her journey as a hero; she was sick of being beaten by fate itself and taken along on this trip without her consent.

She was sick of it, and she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Continue reading

Microfiction: Hope

Hope floated over her and wished that she could just tell her. Wished she could manifest and regale her with all the new things that would happen. All the beauty and joy.

But, there Karen was, for now, crying in a shopping center. Hiding in the changing room with no interest in putting on the swimsuit that she had taken from the racks. Trying to not make too much sound even as her heart broke at the seams and into so many pieces. Continue reading

Microfiction: New Villain

“Why must I be the evil one?”

The being of pure light looked at me. I had been converted first to human form. My armor was black, and my sword was on fire—and I hated it.

“Because someone needs to be,” the being said, then slowly formed into a person. Nose and ears and such coming in slowly. “I am sorry though—but that’s the way it’s got to be.”

“Why?” Continue reading