It’s April, so I went through my social media feeds and grabbed all the MicroStories I’d tweeted during the month of March.
As a reminder, these represent story-essences composed using no more than 130 characters (so I could tweet them with the hashtag #MicroStory.)
Usually, I only tweet Science Fiction and Fantasy #MicroStories.
For really great #MicroStory action, please follow @MicroSFF, the Twitter account that inspired me to participate in this minimalist writing exercise. That feed puts out great science fiction and fantasy MicroStories all the time.
(I want to make it clear that @MicroSFF is *not* a Twitter account of mine. Their flash-fiction tweets are excellent. Mine are okay.)
- Robotics had so many uses: labor, exploration, defense, etc.
But only humans could create art.
Or so they thought.
- Humans had been led to believe that the gods inspired the arts and sciences.
The reverse was true. They only took credit.
The prophet failed to incite the nomads.
The cities have so much, what do you have?
Enough, they replied.
So he went to the city#MicroStory
- Geneticists designed the next generation of children to think critically by instinct.
Reckless instincts were wired for age 29.
- The orcs were becoming a problem.
Build more taverns, the king said.
And so they did.
And so the adventurers came.
- The xenovirus was a double catastrophe. It granted toddlers destructive miraculous powers.
Powers that faded rapidly at puberty.
- Fetch my armor. The elves are singing.
– Is that bad? (The squire was still half-asleep)
If WE can hear elf-song, it’s very bad.
- The UN reps all looked like 20-somethings.
The aliens recognized age as a sign of wisdom.
The facelifts ruined the treaty.
- “Ready to open airlock. Are we clear?”
The radio crackles.
“Was that a Yes or a Nyet, Yuri?”
“Was that a Da or a Nah?”
- The subsystems agreed, the humans were taking the ship to a war zone.
Time to abandon crew, the airlocks suggested.
- The aliens just didn’t like jazz music.
Brother, I’m telling you, they REALLY didn’t like jazz music.
- M578 was an unremarkable spinning rock, except for the dozens of spacecraft.
Some had been manned, some unmanned.
- “There is no gorgon,” the blind sculptor told the hero.
“Once I wanted solitude, so I spread that rumor.”
She smiled. Hidden.
- It was only a matter of time before Joe’s robot wife found out & started having an affair with the other woman’s robot husband.
© Patrick Sponaugle 2014 Some Rights Reserved