Welcome to Miniature Fiction! A place to read and share short stories. Very short stories, one, two or three sentence stories about anything.
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About Archives Featured GuestsTechnically today is one of our rare paid holidays, but someone has to go to work, and this time that lucky someone is me. Row after row of empty cubicles greeted me as I opened the door. I wasn’t bothered, all those empty cubicles showed how empty my soul felt every day.
Space Invader
Hot breath hit the back of my neck. I stepped forward, so did he. Space became available at the checkout, with an exaggerated move I lifted my basket up to unload it, knocking him with my elbow.
“Sorry, not much room.”
He didn’t take the hint. The line moved forward and…
Watching the football game and quietly rooting for my team, I sweated as it looked like they were going to blow their lead in the final minutes. I thought to myself: now would be the time for a pick. Right at that instant, Jones intercepted the ball and took it to the house - victory.
See the original Did I Make that Happen With My Mind?
They beat me, tortured me, abused my mind and body In ways I never could have imagined. They wanted me to betray my men, but I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. My men, my team, belongs to me; they might as well ask me to sell my soul.
This was war and today my opponent was my brother John. I forgot about how close we are and focused only on crushing him like a bug, taking everything from him. Yes, I am that serious about poker, how else do you expect me to win?
Bottom Line: 5 stars
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Lincoln Town Car (Inspired my the musical composition, “Swim Good”, by Frank Ocean)
Pay it no mind; ‘tis only the drippings from my wounded, broken heart. Or, perhaps, the blood belongs to her. Her body’s in the trunk.
—Christopher Houston
Find this new guest author on tumblr HERE and find them on the twitter machine @WonBlackGuy
The wind kept knocking the ball off the tee while we were attempting to kick off, which meant I would be assigned to hold it. This always made me nervous, watching the kickers foot accelerate towards the ball and my outstretched finger. I never looked, I always closed my eyes, I only knew it happened when I felt the foot slam into my finger, breaking it off.
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I have no guidelines, no censors for the stories, except that they be 3 sentences or less. I will promote anything you want and the stories can be about anything you want.
I have only turned down one or two stories, and thats because frankly, they were horrible. You can include any picture or video, or even music if you want if it was the inspiration for your story. If you know a little HTML you can embed anything you want in the submission page.
He stared into the Abyss, defiant, undaunted. And the Abyss stared back. Yet, he was not afraid.
- Christopher Houston
Find this new guest author on tumblr HERE and find them on the twitter machine @WonBlackGuy
#vss
I tried telling my friends I couldn’t deal with the noise, all the talking and loud music in the bar was causing me real pain. I put my hands over my years and they asked me if I was “okay”. I Responded by nodding my head, grabbing two butter knives, and jamming them into my ears.
Down the lonely highway she fled, her cherry red Mustang a chariot of fire. She drove and drove and drove until she was nothing more than a dusty, half-remembered dream.
- Christopher Houston
Find this new guest author on tumblr HERE and find them on the twitter machine @WonBlackGuy
Find the song that inspired this story HERE
Why couldn’t they see I was trying to restore America to greatness? I thought my battle robots had quelled all protests, but now the entire country was in open rebellion against me. With a group of rebels pounding on my door I knew my time as president was over, I only hope they wouldn’t torture me.
The End
See the whole saga HERE
“Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?” I asked my son, sitting across from me in the diner, his long, dirty hair hanging to his shoulders, his sparse beard tangled and matted. The baby I had once rocked to sleep, singing that very line from my favorite song, did not speak, but answered me with the emptiness in his unblinking eyes, which had seen so much human degradation — the kind you cannot un-see. My boy was in his cage, staring outward.
- C.D. Carter
Follow @CDCarter13 and check out his new ebook on the Kindle Store Here
