“Heart may still be the fire in hearth but I’m suddenly too cold to continue, and besides, there’s no hearth here anyway and it’s the end of June.” -- Mark Z. Danielewski. 6.25.25 through 7.1.25
This is where I present my daily microfiction stories, mostly based on the past week’s prompts from The Fiction Dealer. By posting my humble tales - the good, bad, silly, and indifferent - I hope to inspire others to allow their creativity to come out and play.
Wild daisies in the prime real estate next to the compost bin. Photo by Jeannine.
Note: I’m afraid that I overdosed by quite a few words - I found that I liked the story too much to cut it down!
Angela had warned Kevin against spying on the Witch’s sacred ritual, but he was too cocksure to listen. He loved Angela with all his heart, but after all, she was just a silly girl.
When the Witch discovered him peering through the bushes, she intoned a curse: “Meddling mortal, may the fire now burning bright within your breast fade to cold ashes forevermore.”
Kevin ran home, thinking that it wasn’t much of a curse, but when he set eyes upon his darling Angela, he realized that the flame of his love had died. Eventually she tired of living without love and left him. Kevin’s heart filled with cold ashes as he lived out his long life alone, unloving and unloved.
He watched the bird’s nest carefully - for him, this was a game. The bird watched HIM intently - for her, this was survival.
They both waited, in apparent stalemate, until the human called, “Here, kitty, kitty!” With an annoyed swish of his tail, he stalked off, resigned to tinned food for dinner. The bird returned to her nest. Checkmate, Kitty Kitty.
Once I would cry for every sunset because I thought the sun was going away, maybe never to return. But then I learned that at night the sun has gone to visit my neighbors on the other side of the world. Now I know to say farewell and not goodbye.
It started as a pastime, just a few minutes stolen from the corners of her frantic days, a way to hold back a bit of time for herself. She wrote and wrote, until the time came when she wanted to share her work. But her husband had no clue about this secret life, and absolutely hated social media, so now she had a problem.
She finally decided it was time for honesty. She printed out a copy of her best story and left it lying out for her husband. He found it, he read it… he loved it! Problem solved. 😁
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Ignore the witches. Got it. :D