Welcome to this week’s installment of many micro stories, ranging in length from 100 words to 500 words.

With each story we hope to deliver a little whimsy into the lives of our readers.

THE RABBIT LAND

It was a beautiful summer day. Most of the rabbits gathered in the clearing among the woods. They played, chased, some rested in the tall grass. The idyll was in full swing.

Suddenly everything went dark. The bright blue sky was completely covered by gray clouds. All the rabbits stopped playing and looked up. A vortex formed in the air above the center of the clearing, transforming into a black hole. The animals knew what this meant. They’ve seen it happening before. They flattened their long ears with fear in their eyes.

“Ruuuun!” shouted Peter, one of the older rabbits, and all furries ran towards the trees.

Once at the edge of the clearing, Peter turned around to make sure everyone was safe. He noticed a pair of gray ears barely sticking out of the tall grass. He must be fast asleep, that’s why he didn’t hear me, he thought. He looked up. A huge hand emerged from the abyss, reaching for the unaware hare. Peter rushed to the rescue, screaming as loud as he could.

Roger slowly opened his eyes. Drowsy, he tried to figure out where he was. He dreamed someone was screaming. Wait, it wasn’t a dream. Someone is really screaming. He got up and looked around. He saw Peter running towards him. Now awake, he understood what his friend was shouting. He looked up at the same moment a huge hand clamped down on his protruding ears. He felt himself rising above the ground.

Peter was so close. He jumped to catch his friend, but failed because Roger was already in the air.

Roger tried to free himself, but couldn’t reach the fingers that held him so tightly. He watched the clearing receding away.

“Roger! Nooooo!” Helpless Piotr watched in horror as the hand disappeared into the abyss. The portal closed and soon the sun was shining again in the bright blue sky.

The world was almost the same as before this strange phenomenon. Almost.

 

*

 

The magician said the macig words and, with a wide smile on his face, pulled a rabbit out of the hat. The animal seemed scared and confused. Most of the children were impressed, except for one boy.

“Shouldn’t this rabbit be white?”

The magician lost some of his confidence.

“Um, no. The color of the rabbit is always a surprise.”

He looked up at the parents sitting in the back rows.

“By the way, would anyone like to adopt this adorable pet?”

If you enjoyed this story you can find it and more in the Hawthorn & Ash 2023 anthology.

AVAILABLE HERE!

 

Welcome to this week’s installment of many micro stories, ranging in length from 100 words to 500 words.

With each story we hope to deliver a little whimsy into the lives of our readers.

PARITY OF REVENGE

The orange leaves crunched underfoot as the hunter returned to the woods where he lost his apprentice. It had been six months. A tragedy that had turned over in his mind so many times it had eventually snowballed into obsession.

He stalked beasts. There was no confusion about that. He came into their domain to slay them, not the other way around. Yet, vengeance was in his heart, simmering in the spring, boiling in summer, now steaming in the autumn.

The lad had been there to learn the trade of taking down creatures for food and fur. His inexperience made him vulnerable. Under the hunter’s tutelage, that shortfall was his to guard against. Ultimately, he knew it was himself with whom he was angry, having failed the young man. But he couldn’t hunt himself.

He set up camp and angrily banged rocks together, sparking the curls of wood shavings and strips of bark to burn under his bundle of sticks. The image of that mountain cat lunging at his apprentice, snagging its claw in his neck, and opening a wound that could not be treated before the poor lad bled to death, played over in his mind. It had all happened so fast, but the boy had split its ear with his knife as he tried to fend it off, and the hunter had put an arrow in its snout. He was certain, he would know it on sight.

He physically shook his head to dismiss the memory and his perpetual rage exhausted him into sleep.

 

When he woke, it was still dark, but he could wait no longer. He made a torch from his dying fire and went out looking for the beast. He stalked the woods for hours as the darkness peeled back in layers from the sky. The sun was not far from rising.

By the time he heard movement, it was coming from behind him. He turned and tossed his torch to buy himself time to arm and draw his bow. He launched an arrow and struck the figure moving towards him. He caught it mid-leap, striking with so clean a shot, the beast crashed dead upon the ground.

It was a mountain cat, but there was no cloven ear nor scarring upon its muzzle. It was not the creature he came for. He was a hunter, and he had made a kill. A glimmer of reason asserted itself and he considered just skinning it for its hide and leaving behind the madness that had brought him back to this place.

While he looked down, drawing his knife, he heard movement again, but this time he was knocked down from behind. His knife found the familiar-looking beast’s neck as its claws found his, leaving them to lie on the ground, growling and grunting, having claimed each other as a prize. Together they watched the orange glow of the morning sun for the last time as they each calmed their breaths in acceptance.

If you enjoyed this story you can find it and more in the Hawthorn & Ash 2023 anthology.

AVAILABLE HERE!