#smallstories — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #smallstories, aggregated by home.social.
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"Excuse me," the man at the bar said, "but I couldn't help overhearing. Are you really saying you refuse to pick one?"
"I don't see why I should have to."
"It's a core part of one's identity!"
"My gender and sexuality-"
"Oh!" He looked relieved. "I thought you were talking about football teams."
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He wore cosmic robes, recorded a hundred albums, taught a Berkeley course with the Bible credited to "God," and applied to NASA hoping to ride the Voyager Golden Record. Sun Ra also maintained, calmly, that he was from Saturn.
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He wore cosmic robes, recorded a hundred albums, taught a Berkeley course with the Bible credited to "God," and applied to NASA hoping to ride the Voyager Golden Record. Sun Ra also maintained, calmly, that he was from Saturn.
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He wore cosmic robes, recorded a hundred albums, taught a Berkeley course with the Bible credited to "God," and applied to NASA hoping to ride the Voyager Golden Record. Sun Ra also maintained, calmly, that he was from Saturn.
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He wore cosmic robes, recorded a hundred albums, taught a Berkeley course with the Bible credited to "God," and applied to NASA hoping to ride the Voyager Golden Record. Sun Ra also maintained, calmly, that he was from Saturn.
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A weekly seance. Six spirits with names like Amaliel and Gregor. A commission for 193 canvases, four days each, for a temple never built. Hilma af Klint crated the first abstract paintings in Western art and told the world to wait.
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A weekly seance. Six spirits with names like Amaliel and Gregor. A commission for 193 canvases, four days each, for a temple never built. Hilma af Klint crated the first abstract paintings in Western art and told the world to wait.
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A weekly seance. Six spirits with names like Amaliel and Gregor. A commission for 193 canvases, four days each, for a temple never built. Hilma af Klint crated the first abstract paintings in Western art and told the world to wait.
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A weekly seance. Six spirits with names like Amaliel and Gregor. A commission for 193 canvases, four days each, for a temple never built. Hilma af Klint crated the first abstract paintings in Western art and told the world to wait.
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"I'm bored," Zenon said. "Are we there yet?"
"I told you," Odysseus growled, "to stop asking that."
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, somehow double the time we have left to go?"
"Yes! Every time you ask! Just to spite you!"
"Pfff. Are we there yet?"
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"I'm bored," Zenon said. "Are we there yet?"
"I told you," Odysseus growled, "to stop asking that."
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, somehow double the time we have left to go?"
"Yes! Every time you ask! Just to spite you!"
"Pfff. Are we there yet?"
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"I'm bored," Zenon said. "Are we there yet?"
"I told you," Odysseus growled, "to stop asking that."
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, somehow double the time we have left to go?"
"Yes! Every time you ask! Just to spite you!"
"Pfff. Are we there yet?"
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"I'm bored," Zenon said. "Are we there yet?"
"I told you," Odysseus growled, "to stop asking that."
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, somehow double the time we have left to go?"
"Yes! Every time you ask! Just to spite you!"
"Pfff. Are we there yet?"
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He walked 1930s Leningrad in a deerstalker and spats, carrying a butterfly net. He recited poems from on top of a wardrobe. He prayed, in rotation, for sex, money, and death. Meet Daniil Kharms, children's poet and founder of Russian absurdism.
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He walked 1930s Leningrad in a deerstalker and spats, carrying a butterfly net. He recited poems from on top of a wardrobe. He prayed, in rotation, for sex, money, and death. Meet Daniil Kharms, children's poet and founder of Russian absurdism.
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He walked 1930s Leningrad in a deerstalker and spats, carrying a butterfly net. He recited poems from on top of a wardrobe. He prayed, in rotation, for sex, money, and death. Meet Daniil Kharms, children's poet and founder of Russian absurdism.
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He walked 1930s Leningrad in a deerstalker and spats, carrying a butterfly net. He recited poems from on top of a wardrobe. He prayed, in rotation, for sex, money, and death. Meet Daniil Kharms, children's poet and founder of Russian absurdism.
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My mother began to cry as we left Dr. Briar's office. Nothing dramatic, just small tears and shallow breaths that made it past the chaos in her head.
Irremediable.
Her hand was squeezing mine so hard that it hurt, but I understood. Through the crowds of the city and the subway, she held me and only let go when we stood before my room.
I took a big step to avoid the bleached spot on the floor, lay on the bed, and shut my eyes. The door closed, and I could hear her slump against it. Sobbing.
Sadness welled up in me as I reached out into the darkness behind my eyes with my hurting hand.
They coalesced from the shifting haze and flashes, reaching for the pain in my fingers and my soul, tearing it away, but it just whetted their appetite.
They turned towards the door, lusting for the sensation that lay behind, and it took all of me to hold them back.
All of me and the promise of another sacrifice.
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My mother began to cry as we left Dr. Briar's office. Nothing dramatic, just small tears and shallow breaths that made it past the chaos in her head.
Irremediable.
Her hand was squeezing mine so hard that it hurt, but I understood. Through the crowds of the city and the subway, she held me and only let go when we stood before my room.
I took a big step to avoid the bleached spot on the floor, lay on the bed, and shut my eyes. The door closed, and I could hear her slump against it. Sobbing.
Sadness welled up in me as I reached out into the darkness behind my eyes with my hurting hand.
They coalesced from the shifting haze and flashes, reaching for the pain in my fingers and my soul, tearing it away, but it just whetted their appetite.
They turned towards the door, lusting for the sensation that lay behind, and it took all of me to hold them back.
All of me and the promise of another sacrifice.
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My mother began to cry as we left Dr. Briar's office. Nothing dramatic, just small tears and shallow breaths that made it past the chaos in her head.
Irremediable.
Her hand was squeezing mine so hard that it hurt, but I understood. Through the crowds of the city and the subway, she held me and only let go when we stood before my room.
I took a big step to avoid the bleached spot on the floor, lay on the bed, and shut my eyes. The door closed, and I could hear her slump against it. Sobbing.
Sadness welled up in me as I reached out into the darkness behind my eyes with my hurting hand.
They coalesced from the shifting haze and flashes, reaching for the pain in my fingers and my soul, tearing it away, but it just whetted their appetite.
They turned towards the door, lusting for the sensation that lay behind, and it took all of me to hold them back.
All of me and the promise of another sacrifice.
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My mother began to cry as we left Dr. Briar's office. Nothing dramatic, just small tears and shallow breaths that made it past the chaos in her head.
Irremediable.
Her hand was squeezing mine so hard that it hurt, but I understood. Through the crowds of the city and the subway, she held me and only let go when we stood before my room.
I took a big step to avoid the bleached spot on the floor, lay on the bed, and shut my eyes. The door closed, and I could hear her slump against it. Sobbing.
Sadness welled up in me as I reached out into the darkness behind my eyes with my hurting hand.
They coalesced from the shifting haze and flashes, reaching for the pain in my fingers and my soul, tearing it away, but it just whetted their appetite.
They turned towards the door, lusting for the sensation that lay behind, and it took all of me to hold them back.
All of me and the promise of another sacrifice.
-
My mother began to cry as we left Dr. Briar's office. Nothing dramatic, just small tears and shallow breaths that made it past the chaos in her head.
Irremediable.
Her hand was squeezing mine so hard that it hurt, but I understood. Through the crowds of the city and the subway, she held me and only let go when we stood before my room.
I took a big step to avoid the bleached spot on the floor, lay on the bed, and shut my eyes. The door closed, and I could hear her slump against it. Sobbing.
Sadness welled up in me as I reached out into the darkness behind my eyes with my hurting hand.
They coalesced from the shifting haze and flashes, reaching for the pain in my fingers and my soul, tearing it away, but it just whetted their appetite.
They turned towards the door, lusting for the sensation that lay behind, and it took all of me to hold them back.
All of me and the promise of another sacrifice.
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He made one fortune in indigo, another selling saltpeter to the tsar's army, a third running a gold-dust bank in Sacramento. At forty-eight, Heinrich Schliemann quit it all to go dig for Homer's Troy. He could brag about it in fifteen languages.
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He made one fortune in indigo, another selling saltpeter to the tsar's army, a third running a gold-dust bank in Sacramento. At forty-eight, Heinrich Schliemann quit it all to go dig for Homer's Troy. He could brag about it in fifteen languages.
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He made one fortune in indigo, another selling saltpeter to the tsar's army, a third running a gold-dust bank in Sacramento. At forty-eight, Heinrich Schliemann quit it all to go dig for Homer's Troy. He could brag about it in fifteen languages.
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He made one fortune in indigo, another selling saltpeter to the tsar's army, a third running a gold-dust bank in Sacramento. At forty-eight, Heinrich Schliemann quit it all to go dig for Homer's Troy. He could brag about it in fifteen languages.
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I noticed a neighbour had set up a little library box in their front yard. I checked the books and saw they were all jumbled up.
I had only moved a few when a net fell on me.
"Gotcha! Oh..."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a feral librarian around."
"Ah. Catch, tag, feed, release?"
"Yup."
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I noticed a neighbour had set up a little library box in their front yard. I checked the books and saw they were all jumbled up.
I had only moved a few when a net fell on me.
"Gotcha! Oh..."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a feral librarian around."
"Ah. Catch, tag, feed, release?"
"Yup."
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I noticed a neighbour had set up a little library box in their front yard. I checked the books and saw they were all jumbled up.
I had only moved a few when a net fell on me.
"Gotcha! Oh..."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a feral librarian around."
"Ah. Catch, tag, feed, release?"
"Yup."
-
I noticed a neighbour had set up a little library box in their front yard. I checked the books and saw they were all jumbled up.
I had only moved a few when a net fell on me.
"Gotcha! Oh..."
"What's going on?" I asked.
"There's a feral librarian around."
"Ah. Catch, tag, feed, release?"
"Yup."
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I was waiting for my robot friend when a sleek stranger came up to me.
"Hi!" they said.
"Um... hi?"
"Oh, sorry."
My phone pinged with a text from my friend: "Body's in for service, this is a loaner."
"Oh!" I said. "Er... Is it nice?"
"Can't wait to go back. This is..."
"Not you?"
"Not me."
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I was waiting for my robot friend when a sleek stranger came up to me.
"Hi!" they said.
"Um... hi?"
"Oh, sorry."
My phone pinged with a text from my friend: "Body's in for service, this is a loaner."
"Oh!" I said. "Er... Is it nice?"
"Can't wait to go back. This is..."
"Not you?"
"Not me."
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I was waiting for my robot friend when a sleek stranger came up to me.
"Hi!" they said.
"Um... hi?"
"Oh, sorry."
My phone pinged with a text from my friend: "Body's in for service, this is a loaner."
"Oh!" I said. "Er... Is it nice?"
"Can't wait to go back. This is..."
"Not you?"
"Not me."
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I was waiting for my robot friend when a sleek stranger came up to me.
"Hi!" they said.
"Um... hi?"
"Oh, sorry."
My phone pinged with a text from my friend: "Body's in for service, this is a loaner."
"Oh!" I said. "Er... Is it nice?"
"Can't wait to go back. This is..."
"Not you?"
"Not me."
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He left school around ten. He invented a way for moving trains to telegraph each other. He beat Thomas Edison's lawyers in court. Twice. Edison offered him a job. Granville Woods said no, then sold the company patents anyway.
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He left school around ten. He invented a way for moving trains to telegraph each other. He beat Thomas Edison's lawyers in court. Twice. Edison offered him a job. Granville Woods said no, then sold the company patents anyway.
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He left school around ten. He invented a way for moving trains to telegraph each other. He beat Thomas Edison's lawyers in court. Twice. Edison offered him a job. Granville Woods said no, then sold the company patents anyway.
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He left school around ten. He invented a way for moving trains to telegraph each other. He beat Thomas Edison's lawyers in court. Twice. Edison offered him a job. Granville Woods said no, then sold the company patents anyway.
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I lifted the nightly curfew on the RTC bus just long enough for a timestamp to squeeze through. 778333:3.
I sighed.
The noise from the party downstairs was bypassing all audio filters and manifested as rhythmical, physical jolts. Someone had invested in diabolical audio hardware.
I reached over to the other side of the bed, gently tapping Miun on the back.
“Any senseplugs left?” I whispered on the emerg frequency.
Instead of an answer, I got a dissatisfied grumble and a flying box, which bounced off my head.
For a few seconds I fumbled in the dark, then gave up and booted my eyes.
Empty.
I groaned.
#microfiction #writing #tootfic #smallstories #inspiredbyreallife
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I lifted the nightly curfew on the RTC bus just long enough for a timestamp to squeeze through. 778333:3.
I sighed.
The noise from the party downstairs was bypassing all audio filters and manifested as rhythmical, physical jolts. Someone had invested in diabolical audio hardware.
I reached over to the other side of the bed, gently tapping Miun on the back.
“Any senseplugs left?” I whispered on the emerg frequency.
Instead of an answer, I got a dissatisfied grumble and a flying box, which bounced off my head.
For a few seconds I fumbled in the dark, then gave up and booted my eyes.
Empty.
I groaned.
#microfiction #writing #tootfic #smallstories #inspiredbyreallife
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I lifted the nightly curfew on the RTC bus just long enough for a timestamp to squeeze through. 778333:3.
I sighed.
The noise from the party downstairs was bypassing all audio filters and manifested as rhythmical, physical jolts. Someone had invested in diabolical audio hardware.
I reached over to the other side of the bed, gently tapping Miun on the back.
“Any senseplugs left?” I whispered on the emerg frequency.
Instead of an answer, I got a dissatisfied grumble and a flying box, which bounced off my head.
For a few seconds I fumbled in the dark, then gave up and booted my eyes.
Empty.
I groaned.
#microfiction #writing #tootfic #smallstories #inspiredbyreallife
-
I lifted the nightly curfew on the RTC bus just long enough for a timestamp to squeeze through. 778333:3.
I sighed.
The noise from the party downstairs was bypassing all audio filters and manifested as rhythmical, physical jolts. Someone had invested in diabolical audio hardware.
I reached over to the other side of the bed, gently tapping Miun on the back.
“Any senseplugs left?” I whispered on the emerg frequency.
Instead of an answer, I got a dissatisfied grumble and a flying box, which bounced off my head.
For a few seconds I fumbled in the dark, then gave up and booted my eyes.
Empty.
I groaned.
#microfiction #writing #tootfic #smallstories #inspiredbyreallife
-
I lifted the nightly curfew on the RTC bus just long enough for a timestamp to squeeze through. 778333:3.
I sighed.
The noise from the party downstairs was bypassing all audio filters and manifested as rhythmical, physical jolts. Someone had invested in diabolical audio hardware.
I reached over to the other side of the bed, gently tapping Miun on the back.
“Any senseplugs left?” I whispered on the emerg frequency.
Instead of an answer, I got a dissatisfied grumble and a flying box, which bounced off my head.
For a few seconds I fumbled in the dark, then gave up and booted my eyes.
Empty.
I groaned.
#microfiction #writing #tootfic #smallstories #inspiredbyreallife
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The sword master nodded.
"I see. Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. And what type of sword are you most interested in learning to use?"
"One of those long ones with the elaborate guard."
"A rapier? In human size, or your size?"
"Does it matter?" said the dragon.
"A bit, yes."
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The sword master nodded.
"I see. Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. And what type of sword are you most interested in learning to use?"
"One of those long ones with the elaborate guard."
"A rapier? In human size, or your size?"
"Does it matter?" said the dragon.
"A bit, yes."
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The sword master nodded.
"I see. Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. And what type of sword are you most interested in learning to use?"
"One of those long ones with the elaborate guard."
"A rapier? In human size, or your size?"
"Does it matter?" said the dragon.
"A bit, yes."
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The sword master nodded.
"I see. Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. And what type of sword are you most interested in learning to use?"
"One of those long ones with the elaborate guard."
"A rapier? In human size, or your size?"
"Does it matter?" said the dragon.
"A bit, yes."
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He amputated a leg in two and a half minutes, killed the patient, his assistant, and a spectator who died of fright in the gallery. Three hundred percent mortality, one stroke of the knife. Meet Robert Liston, the safest surgeon in London.
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He amputated a leg in two and a half minutes, killed the patient, his assistant, and a spectator who died of fright in the gallery. Three hundred percent mortality, one stroke of the knife. Meet Robert Liston, the safest surgeon in London.
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He amputated a leg in two and a half minutes, killed the patient, his assistant, and a spectator who died of fright in the gallery. Three hundred percent mortality, one stroke of the knife. Meet Robert Liston, the safest surgeon in London.