Twitter Micro-Fiction

Twitter gives authors a means to share micro-fiction constrained by the 140-character limit, an exercise in conciseness. Fiction across Twitter appears as poetry, serials, and single micro-fiction tales including a few six-word stories. Tweet the Meat offers a dollar—generous considering the word count—for publishing horror micro-fiction.

My goal is to tweet a few micro-fiction stories each week. They mix with other posts, so here are a few of my attempts including two of exactly 140 characters:

“Gliding on toes, she danced along the path. A werewolf crept, waited. He asked about her day. Smiling, she offered wine and went on her way.” Posted June 10th, 2009.


Night wore a dress of darkness gliding over the land. Ushering Sleep and Death, she chased after Dusk, shadow in hand. Posted June 18th, 2009.


As Luna met Sol for midday tea, Dawn hugged Dusk in the shadow-night. The tea too brief, Dawn found her arms empty on the far side of Night. Posted June 19th, 2009.


For other micro-fiction, see the following authors: @arjunbasu, @twae sometimes incorporates physics, @midnightstories posts precisely at midnight central time, @trapphic has a web page on micro-fiction, @mythmashed tells a story one tweet at a time, and @VeryShortStory.

Publishers:  @tweetthemeat, @Nanoism, @Outshine, and @thaumatrope.

Many more authors reside on Twitter. Find others by checking out following and favorite lists of those listed above. Some mix stories with other posts, but several have a dedicated feed for stories.

Try a 140-character story in the comments or tweet.

Scene Only

Red and white flashed across the lawn, against the front of the homes. Trees on each side cast shadows in varying directions. Flickering red to white, shadows leaped back and forth. A cool gust whistled through the branches. Parked at the curb, a red rescue truck sat, diesel engine rumbling. White and red globes twirled atop the truck, one on each side, casting light in every direction. Before the truck, an amber glow washed the street.

Nearly lost in the darkness in the center of a street well ahead of the rescue vehicle, a black hatchback rested askew. Each flash of red and white revealed the shady vehicle. The right headlight, shattered,  the windshield, opaque and cracked, buckled in at the bottom passenger side, a round web of splintered glass stretching out to the edges. Beside the car, a bicycle wheel—bent with broken spokes—leaned over the curb crushing azaleas. A spray of bark dust lay scattered onto the brittle lawn.

Resting against the curb beyond the front of the rescue truck, a white plush puppy stared up at the sky above. Black ears drooped outward over the curb. Within each black eye, the red and white pulsating lights glistened. Arms outstretched, its little legs rested at the end of a dark stream. Running along the curb, the stream filled crevices in the street creating a jagged edge. A narrow flow inside a twisting crack in the road connected the curb stream with a pool in the center of the road. A white basket, mangled and torn, rested near the front of the rescue truck at the edge of the pool staining the bottom red. A toy elephant, a pink ribbon around its neck, rested at the edge of the basket with its head peeking out, long floppy trunk dipping into the dark pool. Three feet from the basket, a small canvas shoe with oversized loop laces sat alone. The white flash revealed pink canvas. Red flash turned the shoe a dark crimson.