s/microfiction
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Siren's Quest — The old beachcomber shuffled leisurely along the shoreline. The water here was barely deep enough to cover his ankles. The perfect depth, he felt. For though the ocean tides were freezing cold on their way in, by the time they made their return trip, the sun-baked sand of the beach—at this time of day hot enough on which to fry an egg—had rapidly heated the water to a rather pleasant temperature. The alternating coolness and warmth made for an altogether soothing sensation,...
The Scarred Woman — "I saw her again! The scarred woman!" The night auditor sighed. He had heard this all before. Ghosts in the hotel. Regrettably, sometimes people *did* die in hotel rooms, typically either from substance abuse or just everyday medical concerns. This hotel was fortunate enough to rarely see the former, but was nevertheless no exception. So yes, there probably were a few ghosts around. But he was getting a little tired of hearing about this particular ghost. "Of course you...
Wherein the professor has no concern for the passage of time — "Professor, are you still awake?" "Indeed. I must complete my review of the results of the day's experiment." "But aren't you tired? It's the middle of the night." "Nonsense. It's still two in the afternoon. See the clock?" "...Professor, that clock broke when your experiment exploded. It's stopped." "So it is. But even a stopped clock is right twice a day. And as a new day has not yet begun, there's still an opportunity for it...
"What on Earth are you doing professor?" "Trying to fix it." "Fix it? It was working perfectly." "Indeed it was. Up until I started hitting it with a hammer." "What!? Why did you do that?" "Well I can't very well fix it if it isn't broken." "But it didn't need fixing!" "Yes, that was precisely the problem." "But why would you not just leave it be if it was working perfectly?" "Look, even if it's working just fine today, that's no guarantee it will still be working well tomorrow. All...
As I was pounding in the last nail, my dog quietly walked by, avoiding eye contact, carrying a rubber toy, two bowling pins, a puppy, a sack full of lemons, a watermelon, a tube of sunblock, an umbrella, a paint roller, and one high-heeled shoe.
Reservation — It has always been my belief that food is an indicator of a culture and people. Their food describes their families, jobs, lives, and feelings. The ship arrived at dawn and as customary I started the day by researching the nearby eateries and making my dinner plans early so I had plenty of time to work up an appetite by roaming the local scenery, seeing the sights, and maybe talking to the natives. At the dock, I log in...
All you do is complain — "All you do is complain. The government this, the schools that. And then what ? Where do we go from there? We stay here in our miserable lives because you hate everything too much to change yourself?" My goldfish was having none of it. It swam back and forth in it's bowl as if it hadn't heard a single word I'd said. I sighed. It was time to go to work.
Screaming — I scream and I scream and I scream. Heads turn, but people avoid making eye contact. Help does not come, not in this world. You are alone with your suffering. If you help, you know what to expect: you get sucked in to someone else's head, someone else's scream, until their suffering becomes your suffering and in turn all you have left is your own screams in the night. So people don't help, instead they judge. Judging is safer, you do it from a distance, you preserve your...
Church — 1920-06-08 forgive me father - i have sinned confess me your sins i witnessed acts of terrible violence go on and derived profound pleasure as I bore witness what was it you witnessed death destruction calamity ruin and your witness to these transgressions has brought you pleasure profound unholy pleasure where here there everywhere - i beheld ruin and was filled with a terrible joy i am unsure i can help you i...
Hunger — In the house I wait at the table with my pen using paper bait How can you write it in black and white, how you feel just by sitting still Pen has expired Paper will sit in awe Wild typewriter feeds When will you be here and bring my anxious soul to rest with some food my dear crawfish, shrimp and fish hunan chicken and fried rice please fill up that dish lo mein rice noodles egg roll spring roll cheese puff treat cholesterol rich sadness fills my mind sadness fills my mind
Death to the Martians — The sky was, it felt, permanently orange. Whether that was down to the street lights of a city that spread for thousands of miles, or the quasi in-interupted fires that raged outside said city, I didn't know. In any case I was out of here. After years and years of patient bribes, and a small fortune spent, I'd finally secured a place on a shuttle for the Mars settlements. Still a mining planet, it also harboured independent, self managed settlements. Life wasn't easy...