I will put my fingers together and pull the grass up from the roots. I will do it before my mother comes outside. If I don't she'll ask "what have you been doing out here all this time?" But if I do, I'll have something to show for mys... [Read more...]
I waited for her, all night long I stood there waiting. As the crowd dissipated, I was left erect and waiting. I make a promise and I would not break it. I stood until the last form had left the room and I remained. I now wonder if I ... [Read more...]
Charles looked at the man across from him, poor man john, he had all the reason in the world to do it—homeless, no job, no family—he needed the money.
"Face it, John, we know you did it."
"No," John said, sweat beading on his brow, &... [Read more...]
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley, along the trails left by the ancient Martians, to find the Temple of the Sun. It was buried, like so much else on Mars, in red sands over the course of millennia, but that meant nothing when you had a native to esc... [Read more...]
Tom said my neck tasted of honey. When I told Jasper he laughed hysterically, dropping the crystal glass of champagne onto the thick white carpet. Snorting like a horse, slapping his black Parisian jeans, contorting his face like a fairground mirror image. I di... [Read more...]
Shelly had saved for weeks, mowing lawns, delivering papers, collecting coins from every cushion in the house, to earn enough hard cash to buy them. Her mother had told her not to waste her money, that they w... [Read more...]
When Marisa first discovered this, she was thrilled. As far as she knew, other 'birds' could only fly themselves, the envy of other humans. Being part of the elite wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Envy was a p... [Read more...]
That night everything changed. She would never think of the stars in the same way. Or the grass, or the flowers. In five minutes her whole perception of the world changed. She could acknowledge that the thoughts running through her head at that moment were... [Read more...]
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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