A collection of micro-fiction stories written for the The Micro-Fiction Challenge. |
| “Come on,” Trina muttered, hands shaking. She tossed the used match to the ground and fumbled blindly with the matchbox. As she felt around, her stomach dropped. There was only one match left. She’d been trying to find her way out of these caves for hours. Her flashlight died 20 minutes ago. Maybe I should save it… but for what? Something rustled on her left. Not something small. She had to light it. Once lit, it revealed nothing but rocks and dirt. She walked farther. Then, a shadow moved out of the corner of her eye. The match went out. -------------------------------------- More information ▶︎ |