Mom’s Girdle: A Micro Story

Mom was always losing or fighting with her 18-hour Playtex girdle. It seemed as if this contraption had a mind of its own, wanting to be seen, calling attention to itself, almost like a neon light flashing from a bar window.

The Scent of Innocence: A Flash Fiction Story

Emma knew there were 11 children in the cemetery. She had counted. She needed to know she wasn’t alone in her suffering. Sometimes she wondered what their stories were, how their families were coping. She never saw anyone at their graves. Did nobody love them anymore? Were they lonely? Occasionally a toy would appear, leaning against a headstone, but she seemed to be the only parent who visited her child regularly. Would she ever stop coming?

Batting Mice Around: A Micro Story

There was water rising in the basement. Cold, dark, murky, slimy, water. Being a woman alone, a single mother, without a man, she had no idea what to do about it.

Robbery: A Micro Story

A short and sweet story about the meaningful things we allow our children to steal from us.

TINY GREEN APPLES: A Micro Story

SOS! What do you do with a large—a very large—bagful of wild apples, hard and green and sized like golf balls? Google doesn’t have a page for this.

Refusing the apples is not an option. Ten-year-old squidgelet took a shopping…..

Party Supplies – Flash Fiction

Hurry, hurry. Must hurry up. In and out. Grab the plastic cups, paper napkins, no sidetracks, no impulse shopping, pray I don’t run into anyone I know…oh dear, there’s Amy from playgroup in the produce section. Turn around, quick. No time for chatting, must be back before the first kid arrives. Party supplies, party supplies…oh…

MUD: A Micro Story

We would like to say a huge THANK YOU to Fiona M. Jones of the UK, for her non-fiction micro story entitled ‘Mud’. You can read the story below or click here to go to a separate page. We hope you enjoy reading this story and don’t forget to check out our many other wonderful…