Posts Categorized: Micro Stories

Air Freshener

I work maintenance in a large high-rise office block. You have no idea the type of things I have been forced to clean. I’ve seen toilets that have been covered in shit that you’d need to be a gymnast to create. In another walk of life they may have entered it for consideration of a turner prize.

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Hitchin’ a Ride to Nowhere

I was nervous when a car finally stopped. I opened the back door and sat down.

“Oi mate, I’m not your chauffeur, get in the front seat,” the man said.

Reluctantly, I got out and repositioned myself in the passenger seat. It didn’t ruin my plans, but made it much more difficult. The man pulled away, one hand on the steering wheel and one in his lap, which he left as if his arm was lame. Read more »

Twins

I look at the photo, it’s something very innocuous, it’s of a bed, the sheets are pulled taught over the mattress, the room is clean and tidy, a picture of a perfect bedroom. The thing that concerns is my wife sits on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, she’s crying. Read more »

Psst… Can I Tell You Something?

Thanks for clicking, I really appreciate it.

It’s funny, really. We lock our cars and houses. The sensible among us use anti-virus software on our computers. We wouldn’t dream of allowing a stranger into our homes, unless they are from the electricity company or something similar. Read more »

Darren Got Lost

The cave grew dark almost as quickly as the temperature dropped. Darren turned on the flashlight and lit up the jagged sandstone walls that stretched out of sight of the torch. He’d been here before, but this was the first time on his own. In caves, you have a tendency to lose where you are. Anxious isn’t the right word, but when you turn around and it is just as dark and unfamiliar as where you came from, you wish you weren’t so scared. Read more »

Ouija

They chose the dungeon of all places to set up the Ouija board. It sat on a large stone table that had once housed a rack, used for stretching prisoners to get them to confess. Sometimes, just to torture them.

The room was lit with candles, all prepared by the medium to make the place look imposing. Read more »

My Summer Job at the Cemetery

I mowed the grass the caretaker told me to, removed the dead flowers that were scattered on many sites, and picked up the trash and other detritus left by mourners.

He was satisfied with the work I’d done in the morning and we walked together between the tomb stones.

“Do you have any scary stories?” I asked. Read more »

My Secret in the Woods

I never thought I’d be going back to my holiday cabin. It had been three years since I boarded it up and left for good. But today, the police visited me. They didn’t seem to suspect me, but I could tell, my days were numbered; I needed to make sure there was no evidence. Read more »

The Box

I was eighteen when my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. The disease took him quickly, but on his deathbed he asked everyone to leave and with all his energy he sat up in bed.

“Son, life will throw you curve balls and sometimes you’ll feel you don’t know what to do, but there is always hope. Open the drawer over there,” he said, gesturing to the cabinet next to the bed. Read more »

An Abuse of Power

I put the tray on the table and sat. I’d arrived quite late, the cafeteria had already started to empty. I shovelled bland food into my mouth feeling a little let down that this was going to be what I’d be eating for the next four years.

Looking up, my gaze caught that of a blond girl on the table next to mine. She smiled awkwardly, which fluttered the butterflies that suddenly occupied my stomach. A cold sweat gathered and I averted my gaze.

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Run Girl Run

The screams for help were so loud, I could hear them through the walls of the house. I ran to the front door, picked up my shotgun and peeked around the door. The barely clothed woman ran along the dirt road in a panic. The metal manacles that adorned her wrists and neck glinted from the midday sun.

“Over here,” I shouted, waving at her.

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Where am I?

I came to; I took a moment to get my bearings. *Where am I?* I opened my eyes and scanned the candlelit room that surrounded me. It appeared to be a basement. When I saw the teenage faces peering back at me, their mouths agape, I knew what was going on.

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My Dad Was a Mortician

I remember a friend of mine tell me that thunder was clouds bumping together, he was proud when he told me that; he was also twenty-six. It’s amazing what we believe when told at such a young age.

When I was thirteen, my dad said I was old enough to help him out. My dad was a mortician.

I remembered the sleepless nights in the week leading up to it. The nightmares were horrific, and they never stopped. Before I didn’t know exactly what he did, but I knew it involved dead bodies. I cried, but he said I was a man now, and this was something a man does, I believed him. Read more »

Supply and Demand

It was the day the pigs were going to slaughter, always a somber affair. It’s hard not to get attached to the little buggers. They may look all the same to the untrained eye, but to someone who sees them everyday, each are unique with their own personality. I was going to miss them. Read more »