The Last Fish in the World (microfiction)

The last fish in the world said nothing. It had been alive for so long that it had seen all the creatures of the sea slowly disappear. It swam through the murky depths, alone and silent, its scales reflecting the dim light of the deep. It had seen the destruction of its home, the pollution, the overfishing that took away its friends and family. It had nothing left to say. It simply continued to swim, a noiseless witness to the destruction of its species.

No one knows where this last fish went. It is likely a tiny, elusive creature that managed to evade capture. Scientists never observed the last fish in the world, but its existence is acknowledged by all the wise ones. It is a symbol of fragility. The last fish in the world will never be seen by you, me, or anyone else. But if by some miracle you happen to see the world’s last fish, consider yourself a blessed one who will live a very long life.

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The Storm Winds in Hell (microfiction)

The sky was a deep, dark red, and the clouds were thick and black. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder roared like a demon. The wind was strong and fierce, the rain was heavy and unrelenting. The ground shook and trembled, and the darkness was intense as night had fallen. The air was filled with howling and the smell of sulfur and ash.

I am reminded of my sins and the wrath of my deadness. The burning of dreams and the infernal existence of going astray. My counterparts here have crooked smiles and welcome me. “What is it you’re looking for in this place?” the fiendishly ugly man yells. “I don’t know.” Remove your face and listen to the storm winds of Hell. Remove your innocence and relent.

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Winter Fire Oblivion (microfiction)

I was embraced by the warmth of the winter fire. The heat was intense and comforting, and I was wrapped in a blanket of warmth. The fire consumed me, but I felt safe and secure in its embrace. I could feel the heat radiating off the flames as they licked at my skin. I was part of the fire, and it was a part of me. The winter fire was a solace, and I thought I could stay there forever.

The flames symbolized strength and resilience, and I was empowered by its presence. The winter fire consumed me, and I was alive and connected with the world. No amount of scalding skin and brutal screams could take away this feeling of fiery bliss. Death by fire, death by comfort, a heated oblivion.

The Dying Man with No Eyes (microfiction)

The dying man with no eyes talked to me in an outlandish way. His face was melting, and his eyes were missing, leaving me excited. I couldn’t understand why he was talking to me like that. It was almost as if he was trying to communicate something, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Perhaps he was trying to tell me something about his life, or maybe he was trying to warn me of something. Whatever the reason, his words were astonishing, and his face melted away. His no-eyed gaze seemed to be watching me, and I stared into the colorful kaleidoscope void of his dying face.

He melted into nothingness. His body disintegrated as his essence dissipated into the air, leaving no trace of his existence. He had no control over the process and no way to stop the melting, the breakdown, and the fading of all meaning. His life had ended, and he was powerless to stop it. His body evaporated until nothing was left, and he was gone, leaving no evidence that he had ever been there or that such a man of his caliber had ever walked foot on this jilted planet. All that remained was a memory quickly transferred and uploaded into my skull, which tasted delicious.

A Billion Pieces (microfiction)

My head exploded into a billion pieces. I was surrounded by a mixture of colors that seemed to be emanating from my brain. I felt a strange forcefield like I was being held in an energy bubble. I felt as if I was being transported to a different realm, and my mind was filled with knowledge I had never known before. I could feel the power of the colors and the forcefield, and I knew I had tapped into something singular. I was filled with a newfound sense of understanding, and the colors seemed to guide me on a journey of self-discovery.

I woke up on a new planet, and the colors were unlike anything I had ever seen. The sky was bright pink, and the grass was a deep purple. I was filled with orgasmic thoughts as I explored the new landscape, taking in all the sights and smells. As I walked around, I noticed new tastes as well. The air was sweet and tangy, and the plants had a hint of spice. I was filled with wonder as I took in the beauty of my new home. Everything seemed alive and vibrant. I couldn’t help but smile as I realized I was the only one there.

We Will Burn Together (Microfiction)

“What was that noise?” I said aloud, though I was alone.

I remembered I had left the screen door open. There is such utter peace when you live in the woods, away from most of civilization. But there is also a creepy feeling, knowing that your neighbors are so far away, and no one would be able to hear you scream. It’s why I was so terrified of home invasions.

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Sweet & Painful (Microfiction)

Did you ever wonder about the secrets she knows?

They say she has been alive for centuries, living deep in this forest. The forest is her only home, and she wanders day and night in her white dress with her gold crown. The pale skin, the long dark hair, the blindfold keeps us from seeing the eyes that would burn holes through us.

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Forsaken (microfiction)

You bring me these dead flowers, and I ask, why? Why do you come to this place, knowing the danger? Why do the stray dogs of the forest night terrorize us and not let us sleep, with their howling at the moon like wolves every night, feeding on the corpses of rabbits?

And yet, you seem so naïve. Did you not know that this world is forsaken now? When they dropped the bomb long ago, they killed beauty. Whatever innocence we had left died that day, and ever since, we wallow in our filth and spend each minute like it’s our last.

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The Mirror Knows Everything (microfiction)

“Look into the mirror,” she said. “What do you see?”

She was a strange woman, weirder than I usually go for. I didn’t know how to answer these random questions she asked me so often.

“Well, I see the sky right now because the mirror is pointed up.”

She turned the mirror toward me, still blocking her face.

“Wrong answer,” she laughed playfully.

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We Don’t Grieve Anymore in This Town (microfiction)

When was the last time I saw a man die? It was yesterday, in fact, right in front of my eyes. His head was blown apart, point-blank range, and I was about twenty feet away, watching the violence unfold. It was cold and gray that morning, but nothing else about what happened was unusual. This is the reality now.

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