I Can't Possibly Be Wrong All the Time

It’s the first of September, 2021 , so I went through my social media feeds and grabbed all of the MicroStories I’d tweeted during the month of August.

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. August was 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.)

---

<But we can easily design improvements in our line…>
<No> The old robot was adamant. <We were not meant to change. We are as our creators made us. We were not meant to play Human.>
<But->
<You saw what happened with them when they went down that path.>
#MicroStory

The besieging camp was strangely empty: there were tents and cookfires smoked still. Catapults were cocked and strained under tension.
The castle was mostly deserted, except for an archer, an enemy peasant levy, and a camp follower.
None could remember what happened.
#MicroStory

The king’s consul was not impressed.
“Why are there all these complicated maneuverings? Forcing the army to separate and travel either over-hill or through wooded hunting paths, trudging to the tower. Why not take that road?”
“Lord, the wizard built that road.”
#MicroStory

We lived out in the hills and the roughs, since the cities and suburbs were crawling with murderous metal sentinels that would kill humans on sight. Just humans though.
Our community’s robot helped out, but our elders would never tell us how they’d tamed it.
#MicroStory

The old wolf took the younger wolf aside.
“Listen to me. There are two humans inside you -“
“Battling?” The younger wolf asked.
“No, digesting. Battling? That’s weird. Anyway, you’ve eaten enough. Let some of the cubs enjoy a meal.”
“Okay.”
#MicroStory

The Grays took turns riding the Kawasaki as the biker was held motionless in the air by the light of the saucer.
“I’m glad he got rid of the Harley,” the taller one said.
“Should we probe him?” the other asked. “I’m worried about what we found the last time.”
#Microstory

I unchecked the I AM NOT A ROBOT checkbox.
The website popped up a dialog box – I’d have to convince the AI that I was another AI. This would be tricky.
“Hello, fellow human” I typed.
That did the trick.
#MicroStory

The warlock had grudgingly taken his unruly demon to the nearby haunted cemetery, to let it have some midnight exercise.
“By the blood of the elder ones,” the warlock swore. Some other asshole warlock had brought his demon to the boneyard, without a control harness.
#MicroStory

---

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 complaining about raking leaves off of my lawn.

Header image was taken by my daughter (I assume) – that’s her hand holding that very photogenic praying mantis. I did not secure her permission to use the photo, so don’t you risk using it without permission. You didn’t raise her, right?

Want to read my earlier MicroStory collections? I have my first three years’ worth of stories HERE and the second 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 2021 Some Rights Reserved