Tag Archives: microfiction

What He Said, What I Thought (StoryADay)

He said his brother was disabled.

I wondered what that meant, as I never heard that word before. What is disabled? What did it mean? I had to speak to him, because I didn’t understand the word disabled.

He said his brother was creative, which meant he was very good at creating things. I felt so embarrassed that I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

Nor did I speak to him since that day.

The Dreams of a Girl (StoryADay)

I was born with a huge imagination, with dreams of castles and unicorns, butterflies floating over the rainbows and pink ice cream clouds. I dreamed of a perfect world, a world where everything was beautiful all the time, who no one fought and everyone always got along.

But then they called me delusional and out of touch with reality. They put me in a large room with soft walls where I would never be able to escape. They deemed me as a danger to society.

But what of my dreams, the dreams that enabled me to fly? I know I can escape from this place, because I will always have my imagination.

The Secret (StoryADay Post)

She waited a week before revealing the secret.

Nobody knew why she waited to reveal the secret. Many have said that she was ashamed to have known the secret to begin with, which was why she kept quiet. Others have said that no one would believe her if she told them, which was why she kept quiet.

But I knew the truth about why she kept the secret; the secret was about me.