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- Thank you to 50-Word Stories for publishing my piece “Memento Mori” today. #microfiction #flashfiction #prosepoetry
- ICYMI we are open for submissions of contemporary #microfiction #submissionsopen #callforsubmissions. Please click on the link below for our guidelines... fictivedream.com/submission-g...
- It was almost Spring when Tortoise came to visit the Hare of Herz again. Snowdrops poked through the dark earth. As they sipped tea, Hare tapped his foot nervously before finally blurting out "I've been thinking… and I've found a way to help with your Pfennig‑problems." #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- We are open for submissions of contemporary #microfiction #submissionsopen #callforsubmissions. Please click on the link below for our guidelines... fictivedream.com/submission-g...
- The message from the stars was very long and complex, but contained instructions how to decode and parse it incrementally. There was an image, of a very cute furry creature. And a text, which loosely translated said: "Send cat pics please!' #MicroFiction
- We're open for submissions of contemporary #shortstories #flashfiction and #microfiction inc. #translations #callforsubmissions. Please click on the link below for our guidelines... fictivedream.com/submission-g...
- The Hare of Herz paced the cabin holding his medal. He knew what he could do, what he should do, but almost wished he didn’t. He drew a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. He set the medal in its box. “For Tortoise,” he said, and nodded. The decision was made. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- For a moment the cabin fell away, and the Hare of Herz stood again on the old track, his paws stretched out in triumph. He blinked and was back on his trittenstuhl, the dust settling. The medal glowed in his paw, and he smiled at the sweet sadness of a triumph long gone. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The egg shell lay shattered in the moss. Maria picked up a piece: smooth, cool to the touch. The breeze on her face held her in the present, yet its chill carried a dim fear of her own ending. "You are beautiful," she whispered to the fragment, "because you are broken." #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz balanced on the trittenstuhl and moved the old book on carrotcraft in the bookshelf. A small box slid forward. It was his medal, his greatest race, his flitzerzeit. The Hare traced the etched laurel with his paw. For a moment he heard the cheering crowd. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz rummaged through old boxes, shook the plinkentee tins, and even peered into the old schnurblekessel. There was nothing but an coppery smell. He had to find a way to help his old friend Tortoise. He looked around. Where else could he have stashed money? #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- Tortoise's shadow had faded from the threshold. In the dimming winter afternoon the Hare of Herz held his cooling cup, staring into the fireplace. His pockets held nothing but a bit of dandelion and a smooth river stone. How could he help his friend when he had nothing? #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- Tortoise tugged at his scarf. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "I shouldn't have asked." He sighed and his shell drooped. "It's just hard to admit I'm short of cash." He grimaced and wished he could change the subject. Hare blinked and smiled. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- Hare's ears twitched as he glanced around his kitchen, hoping a stray pfennig might leap out. But only the sulky schnurblekessel stared back. Tortoise shifted, uneasy at the panic in Hare's eyes. Hare felt his cheeks warm, embarrassed he couldn’t lend any money right away. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Tortoise sat down with a sigh and a groan. “It’s my ankles,” he said, and winced. The Hare of Herz nodded; his own joints schnirkel‑creaked. “Listen, my friend,” Tortoise said, “could you lend me a bit of money?” Hare set his cup down. All he had were a few old nails. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz put on the schnurblekessel and laid out plinkentee for Tortoise’s visit, but his mind was on long‑ago footraces. He sighed, and smiled. A knock would come soon enough, pulling him back, but for now he let the memories prance a lazy lap around the cabin. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz paused on his porch, the crisp air and morning light plimmer-prancing through the snow. His nose twitched as he remembered: Tortoise was coming for tea. With a puff and a pluck he headed inside. Even the now needs a nudge toward what comes next. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz leaned on his broom and stretched his body the length of a winter sigh. Storm clouds loomed in the distance, but behind them was a lilt of blue. “Lork and limberlegs,” he said, and twitched his nose. He swept the last of the snow. Even the gloom has gaps. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The Hare of Herz stepped out, broom in hand, frowning at the snow on his porch. He paused, took a deep breath of the crisp air, watched the light flimmer-flam in the frost, and felt his mood flip. ‘Flupperplutz!’ he exclaimed, and swept the porch clean in cheerful zigzags. #vss #aiart #microfiction
- Years later, Piglet would remember tripping and falling on the balloon, lying face down in the dirt, ears ringing from the burst balloon. Now here he was: fat, alcoholic, alone. His friends were all dead, and the ringing in his ears never stopped. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- A Grimm Tale: He was bored. Watching sheep was boring. He tapped his crook against a rock: clackity, clack. Was it hollow? Was something hidden inside? Cracking it open would mean trouble. Still... Below, the sheep drifted through the grass. He needed someone to talk to. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- A Grimm tale: The witch watched the dawn from her window. She turned to the oven with its own orange glow. She thought of the boy in the cage. "In truth," she whispered to the cat, "I don't care why he was in the woods. I only want to know if he tastes like chicken." #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- The fries were awful. He picked at them while his ex, across the table in the booth, chattered on about something he didn’t care about. Where was his coffee? He sighed, tried to find the “invincible summer” within, failed, and tapped the plate softly, counting down time. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- A Grimm tale: He dug his wife's grave beneath the juniper, just as she asked. Grief numbed him, tears fell in rhythm with each thrust of the shovel. When he hit roots they curled aside, ready to welcome the body. A deep foreboding mixed with his sweat, sadness, and tears. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- A Grimm tale: She hummed as she peeled an apple, dreaming of children. Twist and slice. The red peel coiled, the white meat glistened. The blade slipped, nicked her thumb, and a few drops of blood fell to the floor. She took this as an omen and wished for a boy and a girl. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- Years later, Piglet would still wake with a jerk, his heart hammering against his ribs. There was nothing to do but practice his breathing and repeat, "There is no Heffalump. It was only Pooh," over and over until, exhausted, he would finally drift off. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
- Was this the face that launched a thousands ships? A #vss microfiction series: voices of Trojan War figures seeing Helen at Troy’s fall. Two versions, one longer, one concise, begin with Faustus, whose words sparked the project. #aiart #microfiction waferiction.blogspot.com/2025/12/was-...
- Posting one comic issue a week(ish)...Comic #172 A Cosmic Narrative: An extraterrestrial travel journal that asks the big questions by examining the small moments of life across the universe. 👽 #webcomic #webtoon #comic #writing #MicroFiction
- "At the heart of every story," she thought, "is change." She tapped her pen against the blank page and watched an ice cube melt in her empty glass. She sighed. The only change in her life was her own life quietly melting away, unseen. #Microfiction #vss #aiart
- The front door clicked, closing off the morning rush of dishes and lost keys. Silence. He found his mug. The heat and quiet promise of the morning was gone, leaving tepid black water. This wasn't coffee, he thought. It was a liquid apology for a race to nowhere. #vss #microfiction #aiart #coffee
- Last one! “Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?” Menelaus took Helen's cold hands. She met his gaze, regal, but changed. He’d burnt the world to get to this point. He hesitated, then let go, shouting orders to escort her to the black ships. #Microfiction #aiart #vss
