Daring to be noticed for the first timein her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.
The room fell silent as she began to speak croakily at first and with a slight tremor in her voice. But, as she continued, her words became clearer ad sweeter by the ... [Read more...]
They gathered in the woods with pounding hearts. Each of them a liar. Some worried about it , others took it in their stride. The camp fire burned and they cooked stolen beans. Cigarettes were passed around and consumed with guilty pleasure.
CRACK! The soun... [Read more...]
The year was 1986. September the 27th to be exact. I lay on a hospital bed spewing into a cardboard bucket whilst the midwives clucked around the bed. I knew what they were thinking. I knew they were judging. My belly moved up and down like a giant rock and fear... [Read more...]
The whole day, every conversation, made up of trivia.
In the hairdressers, as she was washed, chopped, primped and preened, a plehora of trivia punctuated the air.
Holidays (of course) and the weather (predictably). The latest reality show shockers ... [Read more...]
Goodnight said the face jutting out of the wall. She reached up to touch it but it moulded itself back into the brick. The swirls on the carpet spun into ethereal balls of light and their laughter tinkled like wind chimes. Only there was no wind in this ... [Read more...]
The bear was furious.
Dr Who had eaten his chocolate again. This time he wsn't going to let the jumped up timelord get away with it.
He turned to the Cyberman and whispered.
The Tombliboos watched with interest as the plan unrave... [Read more...]
Then I found mysef flying.
Yellow street lamps weaved below me.
They said that yellow represented caalm and the ability to fly signified that I was rising above my problems.
But what do they know?
Their 'experience' came from reading ... [Read more...]
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
The 'experts' can talk all they like about Sleep Paralysis but I'm not convinced. I want to believe them, I really do, but that 'somebody' has always been there.
Publishing digital art is like going to a rooftop and tearing open a feather pillow. You can't control where the feathers go. You can't gather them all again. Ditto for digital art.
We can't control who copies our art, nor how they use it. But we can at least ask those who find the feathers to think of us. To that end Six Minute Story empowers writers to license their work under six Creative Commons licenses or to the Public Domain.
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