I couldn't sleep with her next to me. So cold. Her skin. I had to pretend she was still alive. There was no way that I could imagine she was no longer going to be waking me up with her laugh, kissing me when I refuse to get up for the alarm, tickling me whe... [Read more...]
What happens when life finally becomes too much to bear? He thought about it a great deal - but was unable to put hiself into those shoes. What happens when you feel death is more important than life? Or is that the wrong question to ask, he wondered. Perhap... [Read more...]
The city was empty. I lost my way back in the dark unfamiliar landscape, absence of neon flashing landmarks to guide, silence unnerving me like nothing ever had in my one hundred and eighty years on this planet. Since immortality was the norm, the world had ch... [Read more...]
A figure made of darkness, shadow. Silent. As I try to ignore my phantom I diligently type at my keyboard, words flow, meaningless and easy. This job is slowly driving me mad. I shiver and tell myself it has nothing to do with the shade silently observing me.... [Read more...]
Most voids were black. Or so he thought. In literature. in movies and television. When there was a void, one saw a large blackness that stretched into infinity, broken up only by the colors of whatever object the story placed in the middle of said void,... [Read more...]
If I had a box full of pounds from every time someone said if I had a pound for every time
It would probably have like £50 in it
Because although that's a common phrase
It doesn't come up THAT often
Think about i... [Read more...]
The scientist was shot in the head after his pronouncement. The trail brought to a halt. The military chief hearing the evidence verified, used his own pistol and was returning it to his pocket an... [Read more...]
She was the most delicate girl in town. But looks could be deceptive. Ruth knew he was somewhere in the house. Unfamiliar surroundings would make it difficult for easy location of prey, but that wouldn't delay the inevitable. She was as confident as... [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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