Micro Fiction Monday: Hunger of the Wild


 


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Micro Fiction Monday: Door of Fragments

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            Photo by Krišjānis Kazaks on Unsplash              Sweat contoured around Gabriella’s high cheekbones as the applause filled her with the rush she always loved when dancing on stage. She bowed, braids falling over her shoulders, in her deep, red dress she paid a fortune for, but it felt all so worth it with the lights shining on her. This moment was almost enough to drown away the crushing anxieties about the debt she needed pay off. The audience wasn’t as large as she was hoping.  She fled to her dressing room. On her way, she noticed a door, tucked away in the shadows. When had that been there? “Great show out there,” one of the production crew patted her shoulder. She gave him a brief smile, and when she turned back to the door, there was an alluring black butch woman in a fine turn coat suit. The woman disappeared behind the door with an expectant eye. Gabriella couldn’t help but to oblige.  When she stepped through the door, her heels poked against a marble floor.
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Micro Fiction Monday: Edges

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Micro Fiction Monday: Reflectionless

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                                                                           Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash                                                                Ketria Greene bombed the sale on bamboo carpet. She hated sales, but it was money, and so far she was doing well at it, until today. She was proud of herself, having become stable and sober for the past few years. For once, her future was starting to look bright.  Her supervisor unwrapped a mirror. Her eyes traced the golden scrolls and flowers adorning the polished, beveled frame. “Now doesn’t that lighten up the place?”  Ketria stepped beside Emerald, glancing into the mirror. A nauseous wave swelled within her stomach even though all she saw were her dark brown eyes staring. She rubbed the back of her neck, patting down the hairs there that stood on edge. “It certainly has a presence.”  Ketria closed the store alone that night. As she was sweeping, a skitter of whispers peppered her skin in goosebumps. She gla
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