Micro Fiction

Song Title Prompts

This is a look at my first draft pantsing style. No editing has been done.



His last sunset loomed over him. He swore the last sunset was his last sunset. And the one before that. But she kept changing his mind.


“You won’t sway me this time,” he told her before sipping his glass of type O blood.

“I could, if I chose to.” She sauntered onto the porch and sat next to him.

As his sire, she could force him to stay alive, to stay with her. But she knew how miserable he was, how much he wanted out.

“How long do you plan on living for?” He asked, curious. She turned 800 years old this year.

She lifted a delicate shoulder. “Until someone fights me for the title of Queen and wins.”

“We’re on an island in the middle of nowhere. No one even knows you’re ‘Queen’.”

Her eyes flashed and broke through her poker face, but she didn’t take the bait. If only she’d kill him for his insolence.

“Queen is queen is queen.”

“How is this enough?”

“How is it not? This is the dream, you’re just too dumb to see it.”

“It’s not my dream.”

“I was your dream once,” she said, blinking long eyelashes at him and pouting her lips.

“Once,” he muttered, wrenching his eyes from her face back to the sunset leaving its last trail of color. Before he knew what she was, before he learned about this whole secret world. “I’m done. I’m tired to my very soul. I don’t want to live forever. Please let me go.” Begging hadn’t worked before, but maybe if she was fed up enough.

Her poker face settled into a firmer, stiller, appearance of marble if that was possible. She bit the cork out of a wine bottle full of blood and chugged.

“Why are you drinking if you want to die?”

“Last meal and all that.” He set his glass down gingerly, sensing a change in tone.

She topped off his drink. “I’ll find one of your descendants to replace you.”

She clinked his glass with hers in a promise as dawning horror hit him.



I wrap my cardigan tighter around my ribs, and push against the force of wind. My toes, now frozen, catch on the uneven sidewalk. Rough rock scrapes my palms as my purse and I sprawl out on the concrete, my things sliding out and blowing in the wind.

Richard catches up to me and starts stuffing things back in my purse. “Cassie can we please talk about this?”

The wind carries his voice away, like I wish it’d carry him away, as my heart shreds and bursts in a painful loop. On second thought I wish it’d blow me away.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” In goes my lip balm, brush, pen and notepad. He adds my sunglasses and keys and then catches my hand.

I pull but he doesn’t let go. “I love you.” His intense eyes demand me to acknowledge him. To return the gesture.

I tug harder now, like a fox in a snare. My skin prickles as nerve endings run into each other and the wind gives chase. Brown hair flies in my face and the ends whip at Richard’s. My throat closes as my lungs work to pull in rapid shallow breaths.

Richard’s hand moves to reign in my hair, and I stagger back, gaining any distance I can. He drops his hands when he realizes how freaked I am.

“I’m sorry.” My choked words, barely a whisper, carry to him on the wind, and I dash down the street again, zeroing in on my apartment and safety. Richard is a great guy, truly. But love? It is a terrifying beast that I’ll give no quarter to.



The problem with a mask is one day you can’t take it off.

And I’m not talking about the fake face you put on for people. Oh no. I wish. I’m talking about these creepy ass animal masks me and my buddies bought at a voodoo shop we thought was fake.

Joke’s on us.

I tore at my jaw line until I bled, the sucker is stuck. Worse than that, I bought the freaking koala mask. I thought it was cute at the time, that I’d go up to random girls and jump on their side and shout, ‘be my eucalyptus tree’ and maybe somehow, I’d find a girlfriend. Hey, it could happen.

My buddies chose a lion, gorilla, and alligator, while I’m over here sporting a grey face with a large black nose and thinking about how chlamydia is rampant in koalas. And also how I should buy some eucalyptus. Like, wtf.

You’d think I’d be spiraling into an existential crisis right now, but nope, I’m too focused on the freaking koala mask.

Oh, and also how this shady ass witch sold us these masks without a word. We bounced with excitement when we left her shop and I thought I heard her cackle but also there was this crow perched at the door and it cawed at the same time. Super confusing. Super shady. And super creepy as hell.

My buddies and I make our way across town back to the voodoo shop and the eucalyptus I found along the way drops from my mouth at the empty lot where it stood.

“Well, f.”

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