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The police brought him to me after quarreling with his neighbours. He looked more or less harmless to me, a little ridiculous in his aluminum hat.
- You work for them, do you, he asked.
- I only work for this hospital, I replied. The hospital which, in most parts, I own. So I actually work for myself, I guess.
Anyway, who do you mean with ‘them’?- The cops, he said. Government. Big Tech. Labour unions.
I laughed.
- Mister, if there’s anybody who's never pay me a penny, it’s the unions. But what is the problem here? Are you wearing this construction on your head to, say, reflect brain lasers, or what?
- Kind of. But they don’t use lasers – any more. Way to obvious. They want to control us with microwave beams.
- Oh.
- Yes, I know you think I’m nuts. Keep thinking that. But I tell you, it’s true.
- And your hat protects you then.
- Yes, sir! It does because they don’t know they’d need two microwave antennas, not just one, to override a Faraday cage. Two antennas positioned in an angle of pi-thirds...
- You certainly know what you’re speaking of, I muttered.
- I do. But they don’t. And as long as they don’t they cannot control my mind and to read out my secret, which they need to control my brain. Brilliant, isn’t it?
He giggled.
- Of course. But tell me, did you hurt yourself or attack somebody else around you?
- No, I didn’t. I just… well, we had an argument and I had to make clear that I don’t want anybody to touch my hat.
- I see. Let me suggest something: I prescribe you a medication, a placebo to be precise, and it’s your choice if you take that stuff or not. You come back for a talk any other week and if someone wants to know, you can say, you are under medical observation. In return, you promise to behave. Deal?
- So I’m not drugged or electrified here? No cold water therapy, no brain surgery?
- It’s no more the nineteenth century, Mister Edwards.
He smiled back to me and got up. I took a prescription form and filled it with illegible letters. I knew he wouldn’t even consider taking the pills. A male nurse showed him out.
After he had left my office, I locked the door from the inside and took the staircase to my private laboratory in the attic. Poor fool, I thought. What did he say? Pi-thirds?
Time to recalibrate my MV radiator. And to attach a second antenna.
I giggled.
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When Death died.
Humans have defeated their last disease.
Death has been vanquished.Cemetary office is closed.
A solitary robot rakes the leaves melancholically.
If you ask it, it will tell you the descendants of the residents
But no one asked it for a longtime.Cemeteries are places only tourists visit.
School buses used to come, back when there were kids. -
The cloak of responsibility bestows upon its wearer common sense and good judgement when others are acting silly. We take turns wearing it in our adventure party.
"Careful, that door might be trapped!"We have a simple rule: you wear it until someone else in the party does something especially irresponsible.
"I told you that door might be trapped! Here's a potion of healing. And it's your turn to wear the cloak!"We've all been better behaved since we got the cloak. No one wants to get stuck with it, so we all try not to do anything too stupid...
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Sampler
Another Schabash device which everyone is after is their sampler. You put a piece of something in, you inject a few megawatts and poof, mass replication. It works with armor steel just as well as with cereal.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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CW: The Owlbear gives you Homework
Okay, everyone, here's a project for you. I want you to come up with abilities for an item called
*The Cloak of Responsibility*
Use whatever system you want, and it can mean what you want - a magic item for #DandD or #Pathfinder ; the source of a superhero's powers; a piece of technology installed on a starship; some bizzare weather conditions on a surreal plane of existence; a legendary artifact of your #homebrew culture. Whatever you want.
Or heck, some item you pick up in a #Metroidvania or #CRPG or whatever.
Anyway, if this is a fun idea to you, drop your ideas in a reply or whatever and give it a boost. And maybe even suggest a different item to make.
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Rith was at the pub with Eva and Mel, the latter recounting a story of their first week in the Korps.
"...and that's how I got the code-name Havoc."
Rith nodded. "Makes sense, you're literally a chaos vector. Eva, how did you get the name Balance?"
Eva muttered something into her pint.
"Sorry, I missed that..."
Mel gleefully spoke up instead. "She fell out of her chair at the first training session."
Eva coughed up a mouthful of beer. "Did you have to tell it that?!"
"Of course I did, it was fucking hilarious."
"I hadn't slept, I was too nervous! But... it stuck."
"Why didn't you push for a different one?" Rith asked.
"Because you don't get another until you've proved yourself. Anyway, it grew on me, and since my new braces, my balance is perfect, and Mel's isn't. They tripped and fell into Karen's tits."
Mel scowled. "YOU TRIPPED ME!"
"Prove it."
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Chīsai-ojisan 小さいおじさん
#Wss366 bottom
There, right by the hem of her dress, was a face: round, big yellow eyes; smaller than a child, but bigger than a mouse.
“It’s under your dress,” I said.
“What is?”
“A Tiny Uncle, one of those little old men they used to talk about on TV.”
She lifted the #bottom of her skirt, revealing only her feet and ankles. “You were dreaming again,” she said.
“Maybe,” I replied.
#cryptid
#NMFic #TootFic #UrbanLegend #MicroFiction -
"Huh. A nightgown," the young skeleton observed.
"Oh, no. Pink? Honey brown hair? Looks like an 'A-U' 'Laurie?'" Death asked.
"Yes, yes, and yes. How—? Oh, she's headed this way."
"Shit..." Death tried to look extremely busy with a box of spaghetti.
"Forget your scythe?" the woman asked sharply.
"It's on hand," Death read the ingredients harder than he'd read any ingredients since bell bottoms were in style. Then again her haircut could have passed for the same decade.
"Cut the crap and look at me. You don't eat and neither does he."
Death sighed and put the box back. "Do you have a question, or is this just idle curiosity?"
"I know where he came from."
"Oh, good, that makes one of us."
The woman smirked.
"They dropped some new Mystery Bears variant," Death explained. "Movie night and I thought his little friends would appreciate it."
The woman tossed her hair and strode off.
"Who was that?"
"Life. Frankly I'm surprised she's not your mom."
"You—?"
"No."
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Room
I feel fine anywhere inside the Locust, and even outside when when I go inspect the hull. But I enter the engine room, whether during conventional flight or hypervelocity, only in case of *absolute need*. I’ve seen what can happen there.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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Nesso, the AI, rolled up in its telepresence robot to stand next to where Jacob was working. ::Jacob, do you ever wish things could go back to the way things were before?::
Jacob looked up from his computer. "Before the team and I found out we were characters in a sci-fi series, and that you and we were all written by the same person?"
::Yes::
Jacob gave that some thought. "No, I don't think so. It was fun building silly contraptions like gumball machines to dispense your daily meds, but now..."
::Wait - you never built that::
Jacob frowned. "You're right - I didn't, but it sounds like something I would do. Where DID that idea come from?" He thought for a moment. "Nesso, did Author keep a list of story ideas?"
::Yes::
"Is the gumball machine there?"
A pause. ::Yes, it is::
"So, I can 'remember' stuff in that document?"
::Apparently::
"Hmm. What else is in that document?"
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#microfiction
Once i had all the safety gear on – and there was a lot – they led me to a giant steel door."I thought," I said, having to raise my voice to be heard through the layers of padding in the helmet, "that you were hiring an IT manager?"
"We are," they said, beckoning me over and throwing open a little port in the door.
They indicated that I should look through the port. Hot red light poured through it.
"Behold: IT."
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At first Misleidy created #cocktails based on phrases that irritated her as lead-ins for social media posts, things like the Buckle Up, the Strap In, and the Gentle Reminder. Then she took to naming them after depressing news (drink your sorrows, right?) Those drinks included the Overton Window Shift, the AI Boom, and the K-Shaped Economy. But more recently she's been creating drinks based on logical fallacies. Would you care for a Sunk Costs? How about a No True Scotsman?
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A 100-word #microfiction for the Friday Fictioneers.
https://ghlearner.wordpress.com/2026/05/13/its-what-you-see-friday-fictioneers-flash-fiction-2/
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I warily eyed my companion's face. "That is a truly #fearsome smile."
"Thank you!" His voice quivered, and smoke leaked from his nostrils. "I hope the princess likes it."
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My neighbour moved into her house over a year ago.
She has never put her bins out.
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My neighbour moved into her house over a year ago.
She has never put her bins out.
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My neighbour moved into her house over a year ago.
She has never put her bins out.
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My neighbour moved into her house over a year ago.
She has never put her bins out.
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En 1973, un homme en complet noir fut renversé par une voiture alors qu'il traversait un carrefour à Baltimore. Les secours, vite arrivés sur place, furent surpris de trouver l'homme inconscient dans une flaque de sang vert.
Ils l'amenèrent aux urgences, toujours inconscient, et l'isolèrent dans une chambre. Un interne gardait sa porte.
Quand les policiers arrivèrent une dizaine de minutes plus tard, l'interne dormait, et l'homme au complet noir avait disparu. Les draps de son lit étaient tâchés de sang vert séché.
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"Author, are you there?" Antonio waited a moment and tried again. "Author?" It wasn't like him to just not respond like this.
Maggie stepped around the corner. "Everything all right, Antonio?"
The two of them were part of a software team that discovered they were characters in a series of sci-fi stories and could communicate with their own author, but they were still working out the details.
"No - one minute Author and I were chatting about motorcycles, and then he just stopped responding."
"Author," Maggie tried. "If you can hear us, can you give us a sign?"
After several long seconds, they both became aware of the familiar voice in their heads, _/Sorry about that - I'm back/_
"Oh, good! That's a relief!" Antonio relaxed. "What happened? Could you hear us?"
_/Yes - I went to look up a stat on the Suzuki, and your story window went to the background. I could hear you, but you couldn't hear me/_
Antonio laughed, "Author, you're on mute!"
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In the bone-cathedral, the Godshackles sing.
Compassion is the most heinous of divine crimes.#Ithaxar #Lore #Fantasy #WorldBuilding #WritingCommunity #MicroFiction
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"Hang on a second", Relic suddenly thought. "I thought the Shop doesn't really go where you want?"
Rith nodded. "Yeah, it's like that."
"But Mel can request a pickup whenever they need it?"
"Yup. Shop has a soft spot for them. I think it's because they eat all the termites when they come in."
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"We must #fly!" cried the mage as they ran up the hill, a wave of pursuers on their heels.
"What d'you think we're doing?" gasped the rogue. "We can't flee any faster."
"Not faster, smarter." With a grin, the mage floated upwards. "Coming?"
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"We must #fly!" cried the mage as they ran up the hill, a wave of pursuers on their heels.
"What d'you think we're doing?" gasped the rogue. "We can't flee any faster."
"Not faster, smarter." With a grin, the mage floated upwards. "Coming?"
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"We must #fly!" cried the mage as they ran up the hill, a wave of pursuers on their heels.
"What d'you think we're doing?" gasped the rogue. "We can't flee any faster."
"Not faster, smarter." With a grin, the mage floated upwards. "Coming?"
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"We must #fly!" cried the mage as they ran up the hill, a wave of pursuers on their heels.
"What d'you think we're doing?" gasped the rogue. "We can't flee any faster."
"Not faster, smarter." With a grin, the mage floated upwards. "Coming?"
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"Him?" The detective frowned. "We went to school together."
"Oh." The rookie studied the photo. "Er, were you friends?"
"No, we weren't close. He used to chew the end of his #pencil."
The rookie bit his tongue. He *wasn't* going to make a lead-poisoning joke.
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I have been reading, writing and exploring Flash, Micro and Short Short fiction over the last year. Today Dog Throat Journal published a piece of mine, which is the first time a fiction story of mine has ever been published. I am thrilled!
https://dogthroat.com/post/following-up-my-decommissioning-3rd-attempt-by-chris-lawrence
#microFiction #drabble #flashFiction #writing #writingLife #100DaysToOffload
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@notsoloud Behind some rose bushes in a perma-garden, a woman giggles: it's #JoanMastodon in the role of Jane Marple. Slowly, she searches her magnifyer glass and asks: Who was wearing that costume of a black weevil last Wednesday? Could she find any connections to the Sporespondence writer's club?
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_/Hey, that was interesting. Say that again Enzo/_
"Say what again, Author? 'Ha-ha'?" Enzo asked.
_/Yeah - that shows up as a laughing face emoji on my laptop/_
Enzo was part of a six-person software team who discovered they were characters in a sci-fi series, and later discovered they could talk with their own author, and were (mostly) carefully testing the boundaries of that link.
"If saying 'ha-ha' shows up as an emoji for you, what if you typed an emoji back?" Enzo asked.
_/Well, try this/_
Just then, the entire team dropped to the floor, laughing and crying. After a moment, they all stopped and slowly climbed back into their chairs, confused.
"Author, what did you use?" Maggie asked.
"If I had to guess - the roll-on-the-floor-laughing emoji," Jacob responded with a smirk.
_/Interesting - I never used those in my stories before/_
"Fortunately for us," Enzo retorted.