I Can't Possibly Be Wrong All the Time

It’s March, so I went through my social media feeds and grabbed all of the MicroStories I’d tweeted during the month of February.

As a reminder, these represent story-essences composed using no more than 269 characters (so I could tweet them with the hashtag #MicroStory.)

Usually, I only tweet Science Fiction and Fantasy #MicroStories. February was pretty much no exception.

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.)

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“He summoned a spirit but he couldn’t banish it. So he summoned a minor demon.”
“I don’t need the entire ‘I Know an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly’ breakdown. Did it get so bad that he summoned an angel?”
I knew the answer. It’s why they came to me.
A killer of angels.
#MicroStory

The Girl with Spiders in her Hair checked the guards’ bodies while I reloaded. She liked coins and keys, never touched their wallets.
“We should team up sometime,” I said. “We’re efficient.”
“We are teaming up.” Her petit looting had her distracted.
“Are we?” I asked
#MicroStory

On the second night of my stakeout, a torture of vampires strolled up. They were tourist hunting.
I had no patience for banter, pleasant or otherwise.
“I know where you sleep. I am there now. I have been there the entire time.”
They recognized me and withdrew
#MicroStory

I met with my daughter’s arms dealer; he was unaware we were related.
The prices he quoted me were higher than I expected based on quotes he’d given her.
I wondered if he thought I was an easy mark, if he was sweet on her, or if he was baiting a trap.
#MicroStory

The war had gone on so long that only the grandmothers knew the reason. And they weren’t telling.
Maybe they were hoping that when the last of them died, the war would end.
Or maybe they feared that if they told the reason, the war would end.
But they weren’t telling.
#MicroStory

The hermit was not bothered with visitors, except for the occasional king come to assure the hermit that they were not tyrannical.
An old prophecy stated that this once-young man would bring down a tyrant and die in the attempt.
And no king nor hermit wanted that.
#MicroStory

My partner stopped his examination of the corpse.
“Our victim’s ghost claims he was murdered for non-payment of loans. But I can tell that he’s lying. And terrified.”
There’s not many things that would cause someone to lie about who murdered them.
Bad things
#MicroStory

“Whether you’re considered a king or a tyrant is largely an issue of branding, your majesty.”
“So, I need to brand more people for non-payment of taxes, rather than chopping off hands?”
The historian sighed.
#MicroStory

When the rapture came, angels descended to take all of the dogs but none of the people.
“You didn’t really deserve these good boys and girls,” the angels sang. And we knew they were right.
The cats seemed pleased by the event. But who could tell for sure?
#MicroStory

The more-thorough second flyby past Saturn indicated that the hollowed-out asteroid wasn’t conclusive proof of intelligent life in the cosmos.
Because it wasn’t an asteroid that had been mined and hollowed out.
It was more like a cast-off carapace or shell.
#MicroStory

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Thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys my small stories. I tweet flash-fiction at irregular intervals on my Twitter account, @patman23. At more regular intervals on Twitter, I’ll be talking about my dogs, or television (mostly Game of Thrones), or raking leaves off of my lawn.

Header image was taken by me, of my dog Chi Chi patiently waiting to be hauled out into the snow. I don’t care if people use the image for their own fun purposes, but proper credit would be appreciated.

Want to read my earlier MicroStory collections? I have my first three years’ worth of stories HERE

In general, I’m fine with anyone using the text of my MicroStories for non-commercial use. (Look how cute I am, thinking someone wants to make a t-shirt from one of my flash fiction bits. I say cute, but you can substitute in some other, more appropriate, adjective. I’m not the boss of you.)

© Patrick Sponaugle 2019 Some Rights Reserved