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shallownessFiclets: all original fiction, probably all rated universal. Anything over 100 words will also be posted at AO3. (Yeah, still filling prompts.)
Drifting away. Original fic, OCs, 131 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, any, drifting away’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
They used to fit in one boat, Ross, Mae and Wendy, when Uncle Garfield decided they were capable enough capable enough of managing it by themselves and not drowning. The river became a river of adventure then for many years, until Ross grew too big and they needed two boats, Mae spending equal time in each, because she preferred not to row at all. Though they had all outgrown pretending that this stretch of the river had whitewater rapids, they still returned to the water this summer, only, her best friend has noticed that Mae always seems to prefer Ross’s boat, which he doesn’t complain about, and right now, the other boat is drifting away from hers and Wendy hesitates about whether she should pick up the oars and draw closer to them.
Impossible, Original fic, OC. Second person POV. 74 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, Delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen, which is impossible because you live alone.’
You've closed the door behind you and tossed your keys in their dish on autopilot, it's late, you're tired and your fingers are unbuttoning your coat when you freeze. Spices that you’ve only come across in this combination in one place, many months ago, are emanating from your kitchen. Your kitchen that was empty this morning and every other morning since you returned home, but, driven by impossible hope, you head straight for it.
Silvery moonlight, Original fic, OC, 56 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, Silvery moonlight.’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
The watchman sighs, the moon is full, what do the poets say, its argent beams lighting up the whole city. He knows what it means: lunatic lovers, poets and dancers, and the city will be a nightmare. Why couldn’t the clouds that were there this morning, when he went off shift, have remained fixed in place?
Drifting away. Original fic, OCs, 131 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, any, drifting away’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
They used to fit in one boat, Ross, Mae and Wendy, when Uncle Garfield decided they were capable enough capable enough of managing it by themselves and not drowning. The river became a river of adventure then for many years, until Ross grew too big and they needed two boats, Mae spending equal time in each, because she preferred not to row at all. Though they had all outgrown pretending that this stretch of the river had whitewater rapids, they still returned to the water this summer, only, her best friend has noticed that Mae always seems to prefer Ross’s boat, which he doesn’t complain about, and right now, the other boat is drifting away from hers and Wendy hesitates about whether she should pick up the oars and draw closer to them.
Impossible, Original fic, OC. Second person POV. 74 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, Delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen, which is impossible because you live alone.’
You've closed the door behind you and tossed your keys in their dish on autopilot, it's late, you're tired and your fingers are unbuttoning your coat when you freeze. Spices that you’ve only come across in this combination in one place, many months ago, are emanating from your kitchen. Your kitchen that was empty this morning and every other morning since you returned home, but, driven by impossible hope, you head straight for it.
Silvery moonlight, Original fic, OC, 56 words. Written for the prompt ‘Any, Any, Silvery moonlight.’ at the Three Sentence Ficathon 2026.
The watchman sighs, the moon is full, what do the poets say, its argent beams lighting up the whole city. He knows what it means: lunatic lovers, poets and dancers, and the city will be a nightmare. Why couldn’t the clouds that were there this morning, when he went off shift, have remained fixed in place?
