This is a serial fiction posted in one toot daily (ish) during October on Mastodon. It was unplanned and experimental, and I’m pretty happy with the result. I hope you enjoy it. ( original format)
I’m a ghost but I never died, or at least I don’t remember it. Memory and shape are both unfixed concepts to me. The only time I ever feel real is when someone sees me.
I have no power over who can see me or what they’ll see when they do. Human minds do something with my aether, project onto it, give it a form it doesn’t really have.
Red light gleamed from the dark hollows of her eyes. Her skin grew aged and leathery as parchment. She bared cruelly pointed teeth.
‘This is what I am,’ she said. ‘This is what the hunger does to me. And I have been alone such a
long time …’
He took a deep breath. ‘So have I.’ His pale shape flickered, like an image losing signal. ‘But I’m willing to try, if you are.’
‘Try,’ she said. She put her hand on his, and it didn’t pass through. ‘Yes, we could try.’
Rondell Melling from Pixabay.… Read more
‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked. ‘A cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you.’
Reid found himself sipping gingerly at a cup of tea a few minutes later. He thought: I just won’t finish it. That’s all.
But the conversation was good and when he next looked down, the cup was dry and scattered with black.
He sighed dramatically.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘No,’ he said, setting aside his cup and its heart-shaped residue. ‘Are you, um, doing anything later?’
A microfiction for Mastodon. Image by
dungthuyvunguyen from Pixabay.… Read more
It was a kiss with teeth, all hunger and bloody mouths as the rain soaked them to the bone.
The elf leaned back, pressing a finger to her wounded lip. The goblin’s answering smile was razor-sharp.
‘This isn’t how this story usually goes,’ said the goblin. She ran her hands down the elf’s sodden, wind-tangled hair, her every touch feather-light.
‘Then someone has been telling it wrong,’ the elf replied. ‘For you and me, this couldn’t have gone any other way.’
Microfiction! Image by
Free-Photos from Pixabay.… Read more
He looked down at hands that were now curled into claws. ‘So that’s it,’ he said dully. ‘I’m a demon now. Just like that.’ He looked up at the sky, where the clouds had parted for his fall.
His companion of millennia stepped toward him, the air rippling with his passage. He folded his wings and knelt beside him. ‘They’ve made a mistake,’ he whispered. ‘It’s … give them time. They’ll come around.’
Tears rolled down the first’s cheeks. ‘I’m a monster now.’
‘No! No … you could never be a monster.’ As he said the words, his own wings shrivelled and changed.…
Alice giggled as her girlfriend pulled her into a corner of the town gardens. ‘What’s the big secret?’
Her girlfriend smiled to one side, that irresistible quirk that had first drawn her to her. ‘It’s a big
‘Yeah, but everything’s a secret with you,’ she said, a little breathlessly.
Her girlfriend’s smile widened. ‘Am I really so mysterious?’
She was. She was laughter on the wind and a smile in moonlight. She was perfume quickly whisked away.
But when Alice said everything was a secret with her girlfriend, it was only half-teasing. There was a shadow over her sometimes.…
He adjusted his blindfold. ‘What do you think?’
Her eyes tracked the clouds as they rolled across the azure sky.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she replied. She shifted where she lay on the grass, disturbing her hair. It hissed and resettled, scales sliding against scales. ‘I mean … I remembered that it was beautiful, but in my head … it was like a painting. This is something else.’
‘What else would you like to see?’
She smiled, sharp-toothed and joyful. ‘Everything.’
Another microfiction for Mastodon. Image by
tatlin from Pixabay, used under Pixabay License.… Read more
Their eyes meet across the burning glade. Fire still trails from the hands of the first, and the flames dance in her sad eyes.
The second is covered in ash. She hugs a cat to her chest. It buries its face under her arm.
‘I know you,’ says the second, as if in a daze. Her gaze sharpens. ‘Did you do this?’
The first recoils. The flames in her hands flicker; the fire around her dims, then brightens. ‘I didn’t mean to. It just … happens.’
‘Just happens?’ She coughs. Her eyes narrow. ‘A fine way to shirk the blame, when you’ve been caught flame-handed.’…
She kicked the skeleton squarely in the chest, then drew her twin shortswords. ‘Still think this was a good idea?’
Her companion raised her staff and lightning cracked down from the sky, turning a zombie into ash. ‘Well, I’m having a good time,’ she replied.
Their eyes met over their laptop screens. One raised her eyebrows; the other looked down in a blush.
‘So … maybe we’ll do this again sometime?
‘Yeah! Yes. Um … the Ashara Raid?’
‘It’s a date.’
This microfiction written in thanks to a donor on Ko-Fi. Image by
Orna Wachman from Pixabay, used under Pixabay License.… Read more
He made it to the rooftop, fingers slipping on the rain-slicked tiles, skin cold and stung by the falling sky.
She huddled by the false chimney. Her arms hugged her knees to her chest. Gull-grey wings shivered tight to her back as she gazed up at the storm-laden clouds.
He settled beside her and placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder.
‘I was going to do it,’ she said. ‘I was really going to do it.’
‘There’s always tomorrow,’ he said.
Always another day to fly.
Another microfiction for Mastodon. Image by Pezibear / Petra, used under Pixabay License.…