Pocket stories could also be called micro-fiction, but I dislike that term. Pocket stories are cozy tales you can stuff into the folds of your heart. Micro-fiction sounds like something you need a machine to access.
Their kiss ignited a supernova whose waves rippled across space-time, forever altering everything that came after, and transforming the import of everything that had happened before.
“Did you come here from the future to stop us from making a horrible decision with repercussions that we could never understand?”
“No. Changing the past never works.”
“Then why did you travel through time to this moment.”
“Because this is the peak of our civilization.”
“The peak?”
“Yes, after this, it all goes downhill spectacularly awfully.”
“But you invented a time machine in that awful future?”
“Yes.”
“How? Why?”
“You wouldn’t understand how. But as to why—well, I wanted to escape to a more pleasant time.”`
She pressed my hand against her abdomen with her iron grip. I stared into her eyes and saw her life leaving her body. She smiled—or was it a grimace? She closed her eyes and whispered, "Now you understand."
Her hands dropped to her sides. I pulled the knife out and sobbed.
“Have you ever been cursed?”
“Once.”
“When? What was the curse?”
“My grandma cursed me when I was eleven.”
“Why? What was the curse?”
“She cursed me never to be able to flip the right light switch the first time I tried because I refused to turn on the living room light for her.”
“Are you still cursed?”
“Please don’t ask me to turn on a light. I’ll just mess it up.”
Thanks for reading! Please share these stories with anyone who needs a little escape from the ordinary world today.
Thanks,
Jason