MicroFiction Days 1 – 5

I made a New Years resolution to write a piece of microfiction every day, and since I’ve only just started this blog, I figured I’d post what I’ve written so far.


‘This is bad.’

‘You already said that!’

‘It seemed worth repeating.’


I stood, staring at the barren wasteland that a mere five minutes ago had been my mother’s best creation yet, a triple layered vanilla sponge. To be honest, it looked like absolute perfection.

Now… Now, we were done for. Mum was going to walk in in about an hour, and lose her mind.

Because, the perfect sponge was currently in a million pieces, splattered across the kitchen floor like road-kill on the side of the road.

‘She’s going to kill us.’ My brother stared at me.

‘Yeah.’ I nodded.



‘Technically it wasn’t on fire.’ He said.

‘Of course it wasn’t on fire. You completely blew it up!’


Oh how I enjoyed 9th grade Science. The teacher always dreaded our class, plainly stating that fact was because Henry and I were in it. And Tuesday 4th period Science classes usually ended up in something going horribly wrong. Today was no exception, and the mix of chemicals bubbled furiously and then proceeded to explode.

All over Mr Tucker, our less-than-impressed Science teacher.

‘Well.’ Henry sighed.

‘I guess that can go on our ever-increasing list of failed science experiments.’ I smiled weakly.



I am tired.

I am so tired.

The coffee didn’t help.

It never does.

My eyelids feel heavy and my head feels fuzzy.

I can’t focus on that Math test I’ve been studying for.

My hair is messy and I feel terrible.

The boy next to me is staring at me, so very concerned.

My head starts to loll forwards.

Slamming onto the desk.

I feel sick.

I feel tired.

I feel drained.

My legs feel concrete, and I am certain I’ll fail this test.

I laid awake all night, just thinking.

I am so done with being a teenager.



              ‘With this smile, I can get away with everything.’

‘Really?’ He asked incredulously.

‘Tried and tested. Why do you think I’m the best in the business?’

‘Secret agent, or seductress?’

‘Ah, the lines blur significantly.’ She smiled.

‘Well then, shall you accompany me inside?’ He asked, suppling his arm for her to hold.

‘I suppose I should.’ She took his arm, her black dress swaying as she walked towards the guard.

As they approached, the mission still in their minds, the lights inside the mansion grew, the music seemed louder and many conversations could be heard on the dance floor.



I smiled, climbing the thick tree as high as I dared. Looking down, I observed the many people running about underneath me. I loved this tree, on the outskirts on my tiny town, mainly because it gave me a wonderful view    of the whole town.

It gave me insight into everyone’s daily activities, how Miss Martonellla would always go to the butchers every second day, leaving with either some sausages or a small piece of meat. How Mr Tuck liked to go for a walk around the Main Square in the afternoon.

I liked sitting up here,  overlooking my world.


So, there you go, five micro-fictions for the first five days of the year.

More to – hopefully – come.




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