fabiochiu/medium-articles huggingface dataset:
Playing In Mud Puddles + untitled (Throwback Thursday)
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Funny, Throwback Thursday, 100wordstory

Story Old — untitled

Photo by Scott Graham on Unsplash

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Raymond chuckled as he looked over Line 212 of Schedule C, Part III, of the tax return he was auditing.

“Oh the tangled web we weave, Dorsky Bakery”. Raymond had to glance at the front page of the return to see who it was that had weaved said web.

Raymond knew that intangible assets such as Goodwill bought by a business were amortizable and therefore deductible, but to see line items like Goodness, Quality, Tastiness, and Novelty being treated the same way… Raymond laughed again.

“My word that’s creative accounting.”

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Passing Moments
By: Lexus Ndiwe
Tags: Microfiction, Emotions, Fiction, Love, Moments

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Plausible Deniability
By: Mark Starlin
Tags: Microfiction, Relationships, Food, Family, Pentina

Keith parked four houses away. He walked into the open garage and handed Jerry a box.

“Thanks. I needed these.”

“This the last time. If she finds out, we’re both dead.”

“I promise.”
We’re Hiring!
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Wizards, Dungeon, 100wordstory

Prompts = Dignified, Pay, Staff

‘Excuse me, sir?’

‘Yes?’

‘My companions and I have been looking to hire a senior mage to explore a dungeon with.’ Several fresh young faces, a few not old enough to shave, beamed at him. A couple of them shook old, rusty weapons to emphasize their enthusiasm.

‘Well?’

‘You’re a dignified presence, arcane staff close to hand, sitting in a tavern smoking a massive pipe, blowing intricate smoke rings, with long grey hair, beard, and eyebrows.’

‘And?’

‘We can pay.’

‘I’m not for hire.’

‘But there’s gold!’

‘Not interested.’

‘And spell books!’

‘First editions? Autographed?’

‘Maybe? I guess?’

‘Let’s go.’

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Three Horror Stories That Will Leave You Wanting More
By: Hunter Eskew
Tags: Microfiction, Fiction, Short Story, Horror, Suspense

A desperate man finds an obscure listing for a remote job. Will he survive the first day? A terrifying keyboard and an evil recruiter await.

There are more new stories on the way. Thank you very much for reading.
The Wish
By: Alex Markham
Tags: Microfiction, Fiction, Prose Poem, Wishes, Poetry

He had a wish. Just the one.

He kept it to himself, all the better not to have others belittle his wish or to experience conspicuous disappointment and disillusionment if the wish never materialized. No, best to keep it to himself; he didn’t want his hopes and dreams turned to broken dreams.

It wasn’t even a big wish, he never asked for much. Just the one small wish then.

The wish was his secret and his alone. Whatever happened.
Turned to Salt
By: Gb Rogut
Tags: Microfiction, Flash Fiction, Fiction, The Bad Influence, Short Story

We promised each other the sea, waves of passion, and walks at sunset. Life had other ideas: she drowned our flame in reality.

Sometimes, when I visit the beach, I see you walking towards me, just like you said you would. Then, I remember your name has turned to salt.
Black and White
By: Deeksha Agrawal
Tags: Ballerina, Microfiction, Dance, Short Story, Centina

Black and White

“Can I borrow a dime please?”

“Here you go li’l doll!”

Samantha chuckled as she hopped on her toes with the uncontainable joy of renting those pointe shoes.

She pressed the Earth gently against her toes, lifting in a delicate pose, raising arms in an arc as though she was giving a goodbye hug to the Universe.

Backstage, Augustin fondly watched his toddler, repainting the image of days when her baby toes tickled his face.

“She might have just another few months to live in hand but an eternity under her feet.” The proud father wiped tears under his glasses.
Announcing Friday Fix Fiction
By: Justin Deming
Tags: Microfiction, Publishing, Fiction, Writing, The Friday Fix

Announcing Friday Fix Fiction

Screenshot by author

The Next Chapter Begins

At long last, I’m excited to announce the launch of Friday Fix Fiction, a standalone, online literary journal devoted to fifty-word microfiction. If you enjoyed reading or writing for The Friday Fix here on Medium, I hope you’ll consider taking a look at the new publication.

The overall concept is the same, but the model is a bit different. Instead of posting weekly prompts, a monthly theme will be shared, and accepted stories will appear on the last Friday of every month. My goal is to publish twelve issues for 2021. Each issue will publish up to twenty stories.

Here are some of my other long and short-term goals for Friday Fix Fiction:

Publish high-quality fiction alongside captivating photography.

Select a “featured” story for each issue.

Accept photography submissions for the cover of each issue, as well as the featured story.

Become a paying market. My first objective will be to pay the featured writer.

Host one or two annual contests with payouts for first, second, and third place. (Guest judges, too.)

Have two annual “mega” issues in June and December that either includes contest submissions or original stories.

Build an inclusive community that is accepting of all members.

Accept and promote the work of both emerging and experienced writers.

Create annual print anthologies, showcasing some of the best submissions from the year.

I won’t ramble on. Head on over to fridayfixfiction.com to get a feel for the new layout, submission process, and to scope out the site. Feel free to leave some feedback or ideas below, if you’d like. And please spread the word!

I hope to see your stories roll in soon. More importantly, I hope you’re excited. I know I am.

Wishing you all the best,

-Justin
Clown School Grad + Monster Under The Bed (2 Fer Tuesday)
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Monster Under The Bed, Clowns, 100wordstory

Prompts = Jet, Fight, Bizarre

Story 1 — Clown School Grad

Photo by Silas Hao on Unsplash

I’d been on a plane before, but it was my first time on a 747 jet, flying from one coast to the other. It was a five-hour flight. What do you suppose I and my fellow recent Clown School graduates, on our way to tryouts for Ringling Brothers’ Circus, got up to? Bizarre things, of course!

Someone snuck balloons onboard and made balloon swords. Four of us grabbed them and went at it in the aisle. But we weren’t the only people on the plane; the other passengers got into the whole thing, cheering us on. It was hilarious!

*****

Story 2 — Monster Under The Bed

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

No one ever told me about monsters under the bed or to be scared if I saw one. Which is why I wasn’t when there was. It wasn’t bizarre at all, no “fight or flight” response. It was, I dunno, normal.

One night, shortly after moving into my “big boy bed”, I heard something. I peeked under and saw a jet black opening in the floor and a big scary monster giving a smaller, cuter monster a kiss on the cheek, then the big one left.

I waved and it waved back.

He still lives with me. Wanna see it?

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Prancing with Kerby
By: Christine Graves
Tags: Microfiction, Flash Fiction, Dancing, Centina, 100wordstory

The music of my youth spilled boldly from the stereo. I couldn’t help but feel the sensations I’d felt back in the day. Back when big hair and parachute pants ruled the school.

I allowed the music to take control as I pranced around the living room with my Kerby. I was seventeen again and I was rocking out.

I didn’t hear the door open as my daughter and her friend came home from school. Her friend gasped and asked, “Oh God, is your mom’s having a stroke?”

“No,” my red-faced daughter replied, “I think she’s trying to dance.”
Alone and Scared
By: Anu Anniah
Tags: Microfiction, Life, Fiction, Creativity, Horror

It was a dark, cold night. The street lights seemed to be fighting to stay aglow. I was miles away from home after my cab driver unceremoniously dropped me and sped off in a different direction for a personal emergency.

Not a soul in sight. Wait! There was one.

A tramp. Crouching on the pavement. Watching my every move. I felt his eyes boring a hole into my back. I was worried. I was alone, helpless, and my pepper spray can was locked in my desk at work.

I jumped out of my skin when I heard a voice. The voice simply said, “Lady! No need to be afraid of me. I have neither hands nor legs.”

I relaxed when I heard that. I felt sorry for having been afraid of him.

I turned around to give him a warm smile and watched him disappear in a puff of smoke.
Stirring-up Trouble
By: Jack Scheibelein
Tags: Microfiction, Solidly Liquid, Writing, Blog, Comedy

Angela and Dave had been two peas in a pod for almost a year, yet Dave was seemingly never upset. The past week or so, though, he had been waking up looking confused and distraught, so Angela decided to comfort him.



“What’s wrong?”

“...”

“The silence tells me something is wrong.”

“It’s stupid”

“No it’s not.”

“Ok, so restaurants always serve dinner with soup or salad, right?”

“...yeah?”

“What do you think it would taste like if they mixed them together?”

“I take it back.”

“You asked!”

“Because I assumed it was something serious or work-related.”

“C’mon, doesn’t it interest you at all?”

“I’m more concerned with how much time we’ve been spending together and your hesitation in telling me this.”



Annoyed, Angela blossomed out of bed to start her morning routine of making coffee and turning on the sprinklers for her small, indoor garden. She poured two cups and settled down at the barstool kitchen table. Dave attempted to lighten the mood.



“You come here often?”

“Maybe not anymore.”

“This is your house.”

“You can have it.”

“Just a reminder: you asked.”

“If you’re really this concerned, let’s just find out.”



The two then labored over leaves from the indoor garden and canned soup for an hour to quell Dave’s slightly worrying curiosity. They each swore their own lives to try it together.

“three”

“two”

“one...”

Slurp and chew. Then, Angela slammed her hand onto the table and roared in realization. “THIS IS JUST STEW!”
Naked Mole Rat Documentary
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Documentary, Naked Mole Rat, 100wordstory

Prompts = Tunnel, Share, Chime

‘Are we ready to start? As previously discussed, no lights please; we don’t want to disturb the rest of the colony. Sorry — what’s that? You can’t see? Haven’t developed your tunnel vision yet, have you?’

‘We’re taping? Ok. Hi and welcome to Mole Rat Colony 33. My name is Barry and I want to share with you, courtesy of this BBC documentary film crew, what life is like here. And we’re also live-streaming, so just chime in with questions — I’m happy to answer them.

‘Do we get good reception? Yes — we’ve been wired for years. Let me show you…’

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
The Law Abiding Rebel
By: Jill Kelley
Tags: Microfiction, Weekly Prompts, 50 Word Stories, Word Of The Day, Pentina

The Law Abiding Rebel

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Melissa’s eyes sparkled, and she half-smiled when she discovered a way to rebel without needing to flout the law while remaining sober and setting an excellent example for others.

On her way into the city, she set the cruise control to the speed limit, letting everyone speed past her.
Best Christmas Ever
By: E.D. Martin
Tags: Microfiction, Christmas, Tradition, Holidays, Family

Best Christmas Ever

Image by marinabridger from Pixabay

The halls are decked.

The Christmas cookies are baked.

The stockings are hung.

Electric flames crackle in the fireplace.

A beer, a book, and a blanket await.

My son is with his dad for the holiday.

My partner is with his family for the holiday.

The house is all mine.
He sits at his dinner table in his apartment, about to eat his dinner.
By: Steve B Howard
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Short Form, Fiction, Everything Short Form

He sits at his dinner table in his apartment, about to eat his dinner. Retirement. After so many years of eating at his desk watching figures tumble across the screen, so many years of sucking down protein shakes in between calls to clients during his lunch break, after so many years standing at the counter of the tiny ramen shop on the train platform slurping down his dinner waiting for the last train out of Tokyo and back to Saitama. Finally, he is eating his dinner at his table in his apartment. His wife left him three months ago and took half his pension, his children now grown, won’t speak to him. He eats his dinner at his table in his apartment. Alone.
Split
By: Paria Karimi
Tags: Microfiction, Relationships, Pain, Mothers, Family

Split

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

It’s too painful to watch you cry; I turn my head. The view of the disorganized living room fills my vision. The pieces of once a happy home are laying on the floor. How did we get here? I ask myself for the hundredth time. I help you wrap up what’s left of the dishes. They’re mostly chipped or mismatched. I wonder, is this how you feel on the inside? The thought makes me sad. I try to stay quiet for the rest of the night.

I see your name on the caller ID. My first thought is “do I have the energy right now”? I don’t, but I pick up anyway. Otherwise the guilt would eat me alive. My therapist says it’s not my place to tell you how to be happy. So, I do my best to be a spectator in your stories, to not point out where I think you were in the wrong. But I lose it on you anyway. How can you complain about your problems and never take my advice? How can we be so different when I grew inside you? After I drop the call, I cry. I am a terrible daughter. You have sacrificed so much for me, and even though I remind myself of that every day, I still can’t accept your way of life. Maybe if I trusted that you would make the right choice, I would. Maybe if I knew that you could be happy on your own, I would. But I don’t. Looks like no matter what I do, the guilt eats me alive anyway.

When I was a teenager and we disagreed, your word trumped mine. I always had to sit and listen to your lectures, but I never really listened. I would go to my happy place and think that soon, I will be out of your house. I thought that once I was out, I would no longer care about our differences. I have never been more wrong. I can’t help wondering if this is unconditional love or a life sentence?
Chemistry Is Fun!
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Attentive, Chemistry, 100wordstory

Prompts = Caustic, Upside, Speciality

Photo by Fulvio Ciccolo on Unsplash

I love going to Chemistry class and watching Mr. James in action. His speciality is demonstrations; he thinks learning science from a book is boring. So each week he stands behind his lab apparatus, safety goggles on, talking about this agent and that reaction. It’s awesome.

The more caustic the substance, the higher the risk something will go wrong: maybe a fireball that sears another hole into the charred ceiling or an explosion that sends little shards of beaker everywhere. What’s not to like?

The upside is that I pay attention. The downside is I always hope something… interesting… happens.

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
It was 2 am.
By: Younus Baloch
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Literature, 2 Am, Philosophy

It was 2 am. I was in my room and it was excessively dark and I could barely observe a dim light coming from the window to my room.

Too deep in my thoughts, Suddenly heard a voice.

"who is that?" I yelled.

No answer.

My heart continued thumping quick and fast, as if was going to meet the unimaginable.

An inquiry I could hear, "Are you doing what you think you should be doing?"

I was mystified. Where this is coming from? I see nobody around. And too terrified to even consider getting up to turn the lights on. Rather attempting to hear the voice...
Ignore All You Want
By: Melissa R. Mendelson
Tags: Microfiction, Covid 19 Crisis, Obituaries, Short Story, A Few Words

Ignore All You Want

Photo by Courtney Nuss on Unsplash

My grandfather used to sit at the kitchen table during lunch and flip through the obituaries. I thought this was morbid, despite being a horror writer, but he did not do this out of morbidity. It was more out of curiosity to see the people that lived and died. He read about their lives, their loved ones and how they will be missed. Those days, the obituaries did not take him long to read because they were only a few pages. Today, those pages have become a novel, and they would be too much for anyone to read.
Questions Are Key
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Questions, Revealing The Truth, 100wordstory

Prompts = Exhibit, Progress, Answer

Photo by Rodrigo dos Reis on Unsplash

‘What attracts my attention is not answers; it’s the questions posed that are interesting. By listening attentively, each one tells me something about the person asking them. Even a relatively simple query can exhibit deeper motivations and beliefs than what was ever intended.

‘Thus, having progressed through life to the state where I find myself currently, my main goal in requesting a bit of knowledge or clarification of a statement is to sanitize them of any preconceived notions so as to reveal as little about myself as possible.’

‘That’s fascinating, but all I asked was “Where is the bathroom, please?”’

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Bedtime Story
By: Nanji Erode
Tags: Microfiction, Moms, Bedtime Stories, Girls, Alexa

Bedtime Story

Photo by Ben on Unsplash

“Sleep tight, Brianna. Sweet dreams.”

“No, I am not sleepy. Can you tell a story?”

“You are not a baby. You are five.”

“My mom tells a bedtime story every night.”

“Just one story, then you will go to bed. Okay?”

“Yes, yes! Can you tell the Cinderella story, Alexa?”
The Looks
By: A Fresh Pot Of Coffee
Tags: Microfiction, Pentina, Short Story, Dialogue

The Looks

“Why are you so beautiful? I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It makes me feel inferior.”

“But I have never made you feel that way. You are my pride.”

“My eyes are not yours, my mouth is not yours. I am not even fair-skinned like you, Mom.”
Story: A Pen’s Retort; the well has not drawn too low to risk giving up yet but rather to fight…
By: Greg Prince
Tags: Microfiction, Short Form, Fiction, Writing Challenge, Short Story

Story: A Pen’s Retort; the well has not drawn too low to risk giving up yet but rather to fight for the return to inky things. They despise me for what I am, but no other gave them my gifts. So-called writers, Ha!; they are anything but. Mechanical misfits riding on promises that will fail is what they are.

Frog Holder Pen from Pixabay

Will they come back begging, crying, “Help us…poor me.” Should I care or listen to their pathetic pleas? They’ll taste my wrath when I explode. And then discard me, cursing me old.

The last laugh is mine.

Keys will break and the typist finds, I’m the one sublime. The pen is stronger than any other weapon. Some day they all will learn their lesson.

I’ll call them cheats and fakes, no mercy. The word will spread when the electronics fail; the pen once again shall prevail.
Who am I?
By: Lexus Ndiwe
Tags: Microfiction, Self Growth, Loss, Self, Identity

Who am I?

Photo Credit: Dazzle Jam for Pexels.

Embrace your identity, because one day it could be gone.

I was broken, all the love for me had gone.

Now looking in the mirror, I paste a smile on my face.

Because one day, I’ll be gone from the human race.

Imagine waking up, and not knowing who you are.

I hope you never have to question, who you really are.
Boxes
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Wrangler, 100wordstory, Household Items

Prompts = Stimulus, Minister, Possess

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

‘G’day. We’ve talked about various items tucked away in boxes. Today let’s talk about boxes themselves.

‘When approaching, gloves are a must; cardboard cuts are nasty. Don’t think they aren’t trying; they possess a protective instinct second to none. Any movement towards the contents in those containers is a stimulus to bite back.

‘There’s also a hierarchy. The more boxes sitting within a larger box, the higher the rank and with that comes a higher wound potential. A “minister” box can give a flesh wound but an “emperor” box will take a finger clean off.

‘Household Item Wrangler, signing off.’

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Me and My character
By: Younus Baloch
Tags: Microfiction, Flash Fiction, Literature, Fictional, Philosophy

Me and My character

Jane is extremely sure getting her life in her manner to pick up the psyche of harmony, deciding to trim her hair.

"No, I don't wanna trim my hair!" Jane Disagreed. "In fact, I love it. Who the fuck made you a writer by the way?"Jane asked indignantly.

"I'm not catching your meaning. Simply do as I state! You are only a word, an imaginary, supposed individual that I made up. As you probably are aware I'm writing you, so be there!" I clarified.

"No chance, I love my hair. Screw you!" Jane blew up at me(the fucking writer).

"Jane!" I hollered. "To hell with you. Try not to make me do this."

"Make you do what?"Jane asked.

"You realize I can cause you to vanish. Remember! I am a God to you, making you. Giving you life in my words,"I replied.

"Kindly, Don't do that! I wanna exist." Jane offered.

"Once more, a similar horse crap. Try not to contend. Get it done and don't mediate with my contemplations. Simply be composed! you imbecile!"I said as I snatched the pen harder in my grasp.

"Please Master! Please!"she begged.

"To hell with you", I yelled at her, tearing the page from my general. And begin composing on another page.

Zuleikha is sure getting her life in her manner to pick up the brain of harmony, deciding to trim her hair.............

Also, I MOVED ON as Zuleikha was pleasant to me. She didn't scrutinize my authority
This Place Gives Me the Creeps
By: Louise Foerster
Tags: Microfiction, Relationships, Fiction, Writing Prompts, Pentina

This Place Gives Me the Creeps

Photo by Peter Mason on Unsplash

“Jack, wake up! Did you hear that?”

“It’s just the wind. Go to sleep.”

“It is not just the wind. If you won’t deal with it, I will. Why should this be different from everything else?”

“Fine. Where’d you put the baseball bat?”

“It’s wherever you left it last time.”
Retirement: Is Readiness Only About the Money?
By: Julie Ranson
Tags: Microfiction, Retirement, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Change

I just retired in October 2020. It’s awesome, and yes, I too highly recommend it.

I love me some microfiction! Fix it up with music and yousah, what fun!
Clyde, The Forgotten Reindeer, Parts 1 and 3 (Throwback Thursday)
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Christmas Carols, Microfiction, Reindeer, 100wordstory

Story Old — Clyde, The Forgotten Reindeer, Part 1

“Grandpa, what’cha hangin’ on the tree?”

“A reindeer.”

“Which one?”

“Clyde.”

“There’s no ‘Clyde’ reindeer.”

“Sure there is. Reindeer are teamed up in pairs: Dasher and Dancer and all that. Clyde’s next to Rudolph.”

“But Rudolph’s nose glows bright and…”

“And Clyde has radar. Good team.”

“…”

“Rudolph plays the victim: that whole ’no one will play with me’ thing. Not so. Rudolph is upper crust. Highfalutin. Rudolph’s PR team make you pity him, so he’s popular. But no one remembers Clyde.”

“Hi Mom! Grandpa’s been tellin’ me ‘bout…”

“Yes, I heard. Dad — have you been eating my medicinal cookies again?”
Budding Flowers
By: Melissa Bee
Tags: Microfiction, Creativity, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Short Story

50 WORD MICROFICTION

Budding Flowers

Photo by Lex Sirikiat on Unsplash

I cradled her in my arms, wiping the milk from her mouth. I wiped her tears on the first day of school. She slept on her own, not craving sweet lullabies anymore.

“Mom, this hurts,” she said, while touching the flowering buds —

my tears now hers to wipe.

Time growing.
Professor Yesteryear Has A Bad Day
By: Mark Starlin
Tags: Microfiction, SciFi, Exodus, Time Travel, Pentina

“This is quite the pickle, Phelps.”

“Indeed, it is, Professor.”

“Well, we did learn that the time machine works.”

“Quite so.”

“And you are sure its battery has lost all of its charge.”

“Completely.”

“Which plague are they on now?”

“Locusts.”

“Right, then. We better find Moses. How’s your Hebrew?”
Redefining the Narrative
By: Lexus Ndiwe
Tags: Blue Insights, Microfiction, Black, Change, BlackLivesMatter

Redefining the Narrative

Our blood shed on foreign soil roots us to these distant lands. With melanin-rich hands, we sowed the seeds and picked the cotton plants. Signal songs showed the path to liberation.

Post-colonial prisons enslave the descendants of the past imprisoned. Colourism and self-hate blinkers blind and now control us. Internally imploding, who will save our minds?

But there are signs of a second awakening. Mentalities are changing. Fighting for equality, where future generations no longer have to bear the burden and scars of being born who they are. Together we can change our destination to one much brighter.
Cut Along The Eggshell
By: Melissa R. Mendelson
Tags: Microfiction, Women, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Melissarmendelson

50 Words

Cut Along The Eggshell

Photo by Dennis Anderson on Unsplash

I did not want this, I thought as I avoided staring at the stirrups. I leaned back, listening to the paper crackle behind me. I have not found love. I have not had a child yet, but that yet was empty. I hated the IUD and what was coming next.
Message Received
By: Joseph Sutherland
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Anxiety, Fiction, Pentina

Sorry I left

The crowd got too much

Don’t worry

What you doing now?

Heading home

How bout I bring some crudity and leeches to yours?

*currywurst and lebkuchen

I think I love her

That was meant for someone else

😳

I love you too

I’ll be there in 15
Life?
By: Younus Baloch
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Literature, Writing, Philosophy

Life?

Where am I?

Dead? No, dead people can’t talk to themselves.

Then what’s this suppose to mean?

All I see is darkness.

Oh, wait, there is no darkness here! I just can’t see anything.

%Mind processing...

Still nothing, shit!

Anybody here?

Nope, no answer.

Am I suppose to decipher this mystery?

Should try to find a way out.

But where am I?

Lost, yet where?

World.

Earth.

Oh yes, Human!

I’m suppose to be a Human.

What?

Why can’t I be the world? Or the earth?

Why I’m suppose to be a Human?

I don’t remember choosing it.

Living? Life? Alive?

Fuck!

I have to decode these again.

No, shit!

Living? I’m suppose to be living?

Life? I have a life?

Alive? I am alive?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Be The Disc
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Frisbee Golf, Microfiction, Head Injuries, 100wordstory

Prompts = Frisbee, Decade, Coma

Photo by Braxton Apana on Unsplash

I enjoy golfing. I go at the end of the day so I can have the course to myself, take my time as I progress along eighteen holes, even watch as each throw floats through the air towards the flagpole.

Did I forget to mention I play frisbee golf?

I used to play Ultimate Frisbee. I did that for maybe a decade but after taking an elbow to the face and falling headfirst onto a rock, which put me in a week-long coma, I decided it was a younger person’s sport.

Frisbee golf is definitely more my speed nowadays.

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Writing is my oxygen.
By: Lone Brinkmann
Tags: Microfiction, Flash Fiction, Writing, Short Story, Short Fiction

Writing is my oxygen.

Whenever people ask my family if I can actually make money being a writer, my mum’s answer is:

“Last I checked, my daughter is still breathing and writing, so yes, I suppose she can make her living by being a writer.”

I love to escape into my writing and other writers’ stories. Writing and reading take me to other places, inspire me to ask questions about life and make my dreams come true, no matter how impossible it seems to other people.
From One To The Next
By: Rob Janicke
Tags: Microfiction, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Change, Transitions

50 WORDS

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

“Were you planned? I mean, what would ya like me to say? Is anyone truly planned? Are you asking if I’d do it all differently? Yeah, I would”.

That’s the moment he transitioned from being a son to a son of a bitch.

From a child to a lost soul.
Transition
By: Fred Ermlich
Tags: Microfiction, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Transition, Thrifty Words Challenge

I absolutely love The Bad Influence, and I also love the challenges these 50-word stories present. Especially since I have no poetic gifts — I have to attempt clever prose.

Who to feature here? God, I love them all. Let’s see . . . well, Jonica Bradley was my inspiration:

Here’s another — perhaps my favorite writer/editor of all, Reuben Salsa (also an opportunity to see the rules for these articles):

I’ll stop with those two because I wanted to say one more important thing. My mind wanders sometimes, and in pops the thought that really, The Bad Influence is actually what Medium should be, and perhaps at times, was in the past. Wouldn’t that be a great spin-off? There are a few other remarkable publications that could join the party.
Sooper Glew + Barney (2 Fer Tuesday)
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Bad Dog, Microfiction, Knock Off, 100wordstory

Prompts = Guess, Plain, Accept

Story 1 — Sooper Glew

The bottle of “Sooper Glew” was small; the instructions were smaller. The fine print required the type of magnifying glass only used by detectives trying to read microfiche in the early 1900s.

‘Use of this product means you accept the plain language terms of use. The phrase “it works on everything” does not include paper, plastic, metal, porcelain, wood, tile, leather or other animal products. It does include fingers, toes, and other extremities, sofa cushions, and other hard to clean surfaces.’

‘That explains it, I guess.’ I only hoped my left hand and right leg would free themselves sometime soon.

*****

Story 2 — Barney

Photo by Alvan Nee on Unsplash

‘Who did this? Who did this? Barney? Do you know who did this? Because I think it’s plain as day who did this, Barney, don’t you? I know you know who did this, Barney. Don’t you feel guilty? Don’t you feel ashamed? Accept you did this, Barney. It’s right to look remorseful for what you’ve done. Oh my what a mess. I guess you’ve had your fill of food for the week, haven’t you? It’s everywhere! And I guess I’ll have to buy another jumbo bag of food and treats tomorrow.’

The dog looked up hopefully; did he say “treats”?

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712
Stuck
By: Gb Rogut
Tags: Microfiction, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Thrifty Words Challenge, Short Story

She died at midnight. Sunrise brought her back. She stayed alive long enough to deal with the kids and cook a tasty dinner. By the time she did the dishes, life was slipping away from her again.

It’s unlikely she’ll make it to dinner. She drowns in indecision, then floats.
He sipped his coffee.
By: Steve B Howard
Tags: Microfiction, Short Form, Storytelling, Short Read, Everything Short Form

He sipped his coffee. Then took another drag off his cigarette. Gray slush fell from a gray December Seattle sky. Too cold to wash anything clean with rain and too warm to blanket the streets in fresh whiteness.

The fingers that wrapped themselves around his paper cup of hot coffee were the only part of him that were warm. Even his cardboard sign was drenched through. So much so, that his one word “give”, scrawled in black ink, had bled into an unreadable mess.

He had his notebook full of poems stuffed in his back pocket. Two blank pages remained. A stubbed pencil jammed between the pages dug into his skin through his tight faded jeans.

A Salvation Army Santa merrily called out, “Merry Christmas!”





“Yeah, Merry Christmas my ass,” he thought, as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with his tattered shoe.
A Social Nonconformist’s Crippling Anxiety
By: Lexus Ndiwe
Tags: Blue Insights, Microfiction, Social Anxiety, Mental Health, Perspective

Micro-fiction: Inside the Mind

A Social Nonconformist’s Crippling Anxiety

Photo Credit: Dhyamis Kleber for Pexels.

I can feel all of their eyes on me. Jelly-like balls secreting judgemental fluids.

Each breath weighted, like a damsel in distress I am fixed to this spot, hoping for someone to save me. I know that fairy tales only exist in dreams, and to succumb to them would rid me of agency. But there is bliss in the sheep mentality. The comfort of only one direction. Without the temptation of any other possibilities, your place is where you stay.

Yet here I stand, set apart from the crowd. Unable to pull the hood over my head and join in.

Peering out at the mass from the outside, I wonder what it would be like. To shed the weirdness that I am and to dance in the mask of a follower.

Would I smile more, like they seem to?

Would I be happier?

Before my mind can carry me away to more thoughts of what ifs or could bes, I am woken up by reality. Led by the hand, it sits me down in-between solitude and loneliness. As old friends often do, I fall back into the comfort of what I know. Accepting my existence for a while more, these questions are left unanswered.
Running Into an Old Girlfriend in the Poetry Section of a Bookstore
By: Eddie Becker
Tags: Microfiction, Relationships, Poetry, Bookstores, Pentina

Running Into an Old Girlfriend in the Poetry Section of a Bookstore

Photo by Kevin Butz on Unsplash

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Okay.”

“Still writing poetry?”

“Some.”

“I threw away all the poems you wrote about me.”

“Why?”

“It was the most efficient way to get over you.”

“Fair enough. But…did you think they were any good?”

“Well, let’s just say you’re no Billy Shakespeare.”
The Orange Between Red and Yellow
By: Jonica Bradley
Tags: Microfiction, 50 Word Stories, The Bad Influence, Thrifty Words Challenge, Transitions

50 Words

The Orange Between Red and Yellow

Photo by Nick Collins from Pexels

I’ve been thinking a lot about transition lately. My son is transitioning from childhood to adulthood. He’s in that in-between space emotionally and physically. He’ll be 18 in a few weeks and is moving out a few days later. He’ll be driving himself across the country to live with his bio mom until school starts. And then he’s moving to Utah by himself.

These are all huge steps and his transition won’t necessarily be easy. Life isn’t easy, though.

There are so many types of transitions going on at the moment.

Transition of power in the US. Transition of employment. Transition from pandemic to health crisis, or vice versa. People transitioning genders. Transition from worm to butterfly. Transition from crippling depression to relative happiness. Transition from night to day or day to night. Children transitioning to adults.

Some of these transitions happen rapidly. Some take far too long. Some are supported while many face resistance.

Change can be terrifying. I know I personally prefer to keep change in my front pocket or that little zipper pocket on my purse. I hate change. And yet, I’m changing all the time.

Transition is that in-between place. It is the orange between yellow and red. It is not quite one or the other. It’s an interesting place to be. Though orange is one of my least favorite colors these days.

I’d like to know more about your transitions. Have they been a struggle or were they super easy? Did you have emotional support? Were you vilified? Did your government devolve into chaos or was reason restored?

Transition 50 Words Go!
The Finnish Line
By: Mary Keating
Tags: Microfiction, Finland, Humor, Centina, Language Barrier

Traveling through remote areas of Finland, Nancy relied on mime to communicate. Because no Finnish word resembled English, Nancy was delighted to find an illustrated lunch menu.

She eagerly pointed to an entree under a cartoon chicken.

The waiter kept shaking his head.

Nancy grew adamant. She jammed her finger down on her selection, making clucking noises while imitating laying an egg.

Concerned, the waiter left her table without taking her order. He huddled with other servers who periodically pointed at Nancy. They called over a patron.

The patron approached Nancy and said in a heavy accent, “This children menu.”
Sometimes it Took Awhile, but They Always Got it Right
By: Louise Foerster
Tags: Microfiction, Fiction, Love, Aging, Pentina

Sometimes it Took Awhile, but They Always Got it Right

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

At a certain time of day when the light slanted just right, she reminded him of his bride.

When she forgot who she was supposed to be, she believed she was that eager young woman in love with that handsome man.

On the best of days, they agreed on love.
They called themselves “Stupid #Stalwarts;” these fanatics believed stupid was smart.
By: Elizabeth Moura
Tags: Microfiction, Very Short Story, Storytelling, 2020

They called themselves “Stupid #Stalwarts;” these fanatics believed stupid was smart. When their leader spoke, they cried, “we love you, stupid!” The Stupid Stalwarts marched down the widest, longest street in the city, triumphantly cheering, “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
Story: Upon learning his predicament, Nathan began to reason his options.
By: Greg Prince
Tags: Microfiction, Short Form, Fiction, Short Story, Short Fiction

Story: Upon learning his predicament, Nathan began to reason his options. They were few. He noticed the walls closing in, but everybody he knew felt at ease and displayed nothing but concern and love toward one another. Nathan achieved his life-long goal, bringing people together.

The meeting went on forever, and his patience thinned. Why didn’t people get the hint? They were overstaying their welcome. Nathan rose, intent to ask his guests to leave.

A strong wind sliced across the room.

Nathan gasped, “Ooohh…,” the cool breeze chilled his bones. He screamed, “Get out!” No one paid attention.

Why didn’t they understand, he thought. Everything had been going so well.

“That’s it. I’m going to put a close to this, get on with my life,” Nathan mumbled.

They lowered Nathan’s coffin into the ground. His wife said, “Now he can practice patience that kooky meditation never worked in him.”
Clyde, The Forgotten Reindeer, Part 2
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Christmas, Reindeer, 100wordstory

Prompts = Come, Bedrock, Fervent

Photo by Norman Tsui on Unsplash

In depictions of Santa’s yearly ride, eight reindeer are normally portrayed. Rudolph, if included, makes nine. But never are there ten, despite the fact that there were that many stalls in the North Pole stable. The name that’s been forgotten to history? Clyde.

‘Come in, plenty of room up front. Everyone here? Good. It’s my fervent desire to have another successful Christmas. Rudolph, navigation lights. Clyde, radar — keep us from smacking into mountains. You’re the bedrock of the operation. Be ready.’

Clyde basked in the spotlight. ‘Hey Rudy! I’m working on my own theme song, just like you!’

Rudolph glowered.
It is 2023.
By: Piyush Ochani
Tags: Microfiction, Pc Gaming, Computers, Manifestation, Non Verbal Communication

It is 2023. Two days after black friday.

You just had breakfast with your significant other.

You both go to the living room & there are two big boxes delivered.

Both of you look super excited & open your box.

You grab the RAM kit & have a wide smile, & they gaze at their case box dumbfounded.

Then you both start building your PC separately & share constant gazes of wonder with each other in between.
Dirt Bike
By: Melissa R. Mendelson
Tags: Microfiction, Women, Shakti, Prompt, A Few Words

Dirt Bike

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I came back from school to find them in the living room. Motorcycle magazines were spread out across the couch. My brother was excited in his friend’s interest in the bikes, but his friend’s interest changed when I walked in. He waited until my brother left the room, and then he drew closer to me, watching me stare at the magazines, fascinated by the pictures. And he said, “Do you want to see a real motorcycle?”

Inspired by a Prompt from the Article below:
Back to Fever
By: Melissa Bee
Tags: Microfiction, Creativity, 50 Words, The Bad Influence, Short Story

50 WORD MICROFICTION

Back to Fever

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Three years old; four blankets; five cold rags.

Burn the fever out.

Sixteen years old; seventeen boys; eighteen wishes that daughter was three.

Burn the fever out.

Blankets, blankets! Take all the cozy blankets!

They’ll put you to sleep, burn those fevers out, a flash —

1

2

Back to three.
What Remains?
By: Lexus Ndiwe
Tags: Microfiction, Fiction, Loneliness, Death, Suicide

What Remains?

Photo Credit: NEOSiAM 2020 for Pexels.

When the wind’s breath blows on the back of my neck, and envelopes me in its embrace. And the grass imprints my final steps, what will remain? Sitting on the wooden bench, I weep. This is all that will be left of who I was. Right in this spot, all will be erased.
Where Do You Want To Go?
By: Nanji Erode
Tags: Microfiction, Time Machine, Moon, Time Travel, Moon Landing

Where Do You Want To Go?

Photo by SpaceX on Unsplash

Professor Simon Ashkenazi proudly looked at his time machine and said, “Now we can travel through space and time. Let’s take a test drive.”

We entered the machine and Professor took the control. He turned and asked, “Let’s go to an interesting day in the past. Give me a date.”

I thought for a few seconds and said, “How about July 20, 1969?”

“Moon landing day! Interesting choice.” He entered the date.

“Now we need a location. Do you want to be in the NASA command center? Where do you want to go?”

I smiled and calmly replied, “The Moon.”
A Movie Pitch
By: Parzival Sattva
Tags: Flash Fiction, Nature, Microfiction, Movies, 100wordstory

Prompts = Inform, Preclude, Shape

Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

It’s an Errol Flynn adventure movie narrated by Sir David Attenborough: the story of the first honeybee that made hexagonal cells in a hive.

The worker bee (female, of course) realizes the cubical shape being used isn’t efficient. So a drone (male, of course) says “I need to inform the Queen you’re making trouble” so Worker says “to prevent these reforms is to preclude becoming the great swarm we could be” but she gets kicked out along with the tattletale but together they create the greatest bee colony the world has ever seen.

I’m asking for a bargain $50,000,000 budget!

Links to other sites where I publish:

Instagram = https://www.instagram.com/one_hundred_words_by_parz

Facebook = https://www.facebook.com/Parzival-Sattva-427507144484255

Blogger = https://onehundredwordsbyparz.blogspot.com

Medium = https://medium.com/100-word-or-less-stories

YouTube = https://www.youtube.com/user/parzivalsattva

And a link to where my Lovely Lady Love (who also operates the camera) posts her art: https://www.youtube.com/user/recyclinggoddess

Join in on the fun of making a story from the same prompts I do! https://www.facebook.com/groups/565109053911712