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Mid-Week MusesA weekly compilation of collected microfictions composed by yours truly. If your time is short, these are shorter!

The cubicles were pitch black without 
power. But she could hear the amorphous 
mass slithering, smell its acrid sweet odor. 
"We're not firemen," Clair said. 
Asil donned her grey hijab. "We've got 
powers! It's time to do something, I'm 
going to help them!" 
"Let it burn!" they chanted. 
Clair touched the slushy sidewalk. "Didn't 
want to do this..." 
An electric jolt scattered the rioters. 
The mayor shouted into his iPhone. "Kids? 
I don't care! They're supers in a riot, 
keep the peace and shoot them!" 
 
She grunted willing the boulder of 
snow and trash to do her bidding. 
It rolled into the flaming car, and 
Asil collapsed to one knee. 
Beth grinned as Jon exited his stasis 
tube. He gasped seeing her pregnant waist. 
"Guess what we made in hypersleep?" she laughed. 
"You said you'd help Santa," her brother whined. 
Sara stomped a hoof. "Not as a reindeer!" 
"It's just for a night," Blitzen nudged. 
He saw a white, furry spider a meter wide.
Scuttling across snow and driveway, it leapt
with fangs squirting antifreeze venom.
She lowered her snow shovel. "Andrew?"
An arachnid shape stalked into view,
silhouetted by Christmas lights on
the porch-rail.
John's arm around her, Holly contently
nursed the baby on the couch. Together,
they formed an ursid trinity in Christmas
pajamas.
Losing their grip, his fingers clawed crumbling
stone hard enough to bleed. Oris fell... and deep,
stygian darkness embraced him.
"You're a keeper Tom. If I was your age—"
Her charm broke and all was rewritten.
A life revised, 20-year-olds kissed at midnight.
"Your daughter's a whore," Lewis smirked. "No
one will believe her."
Jim's fist broke a perfect nose on a surprised 
face. "I do!"

Copyright © 2016 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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