Micro Fiction - Morgan Broadhead

Burgers and Bridles

I feel sorry for this trail horse. The bridle is rusty. That can’t taste good. The leathers are worn and cracked. I’m

“The Dagger of al-Shaytān!” Jemisha jumped up and pointed. We had been enjoying a quiet evening and a glass of merlot. Maybe

The battlement walls have crumbled. The moat has been filled in and paved over. The flags, brightly colored and snapping in the

He gripped the steering wheel and drove along the dark two-lane, headlights on, his cruise control switched off. Ahead of him, single

Sweat dripped off Malcolm’s forehead. Tears blurred his vision. Saliva coated his throat like hot tar. “You like that, Agent Kinnison?” The

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” the toad said, and gave a little croak. Despite his insistence, the princess held onto

Listen to the sound ofThe dripping of water,Etching the face of the rock.Changes through time and Eons of history,Spinning the hands of

“Where are they all going, dad?” I capped my binoculars, and she zipped them back into my pack. “To their deaths,” I

If I don’t kill it, it will crawl on me in the night. It will bite me under my covers. It will

The boy awoke, casting Sebastian out and mooring him to the darkness. He floated near the bedroom’s vaulted ceiling, his astral image