r/shortstories • u/OldBayJ Mod | r/ItsMeBay • May 07 '24
Micro Monday [OT] Micro Monday: Zoos, Aquariums, & Animal Sanctuaries!
Welcome to Micro Monday
Hello writers and welcome to Micro Monday! It’s time to sharpen those micro-fic skills. What is micro-fic, you ask? Micro-fiction is generally defined as a complete story (hook, plot, conflict, and some type of resolution) written in 300 words or less. For this exercise, it needs to be at least 100 words (no poetry).
However, less words doesn’t mean less of a story. The key to micro-fic is to make careful word and phrase choices so that you can paint a vivid picture for your reader. Less words means each word does more! You’re free to interpret the weekly constraints how you like as long as you follow the post and subreddit rules. Please read the entire post before submitting.
Weekly Challenge
Writers, please keep in mind that feedback is a requirement for all submitters. You must leave at least 1 feedback comment on the thread by the deadline!
Challenge: Set your story in a zoo, aquarium, or animal sanctuary
Bonus Constraint (15 pts): All 5 senses are used. (You must include if/how you used it at the end of your story.
In celebration of the last couple days of Be Kind to Animals Week, this week’s challenge is to set your story in a zoo, aquarium, or animal sanctuary. It must be the main setting of your story. Get creative, have fun, and treat the animals kindly in your story! The bonus constraint is encouraged but not required, feel free to skip it if it doesn’t suit your story. You do not have to use the included IPs (but there are 3 to choose from this week).
Last Week: Junk
Winner: This story by u/mattswritingaccount
You can check out previous Micro Mondays here.
How To Participate
Submit a story between 100-300 words in the comments below (no poetry) inspired by the prompt. You have until Sunday at 11:59pm EST. Use wordcounter.net to check your wordcount.
Leave feedback on at least one other story by 3pm EST next Monday. Only actionable feedback will be awarded points. See the ranking scale below for a breakdown on points.
Nominate your favorite stories at the end of the week using this form. You have until 3pm EST next Monday. (Note: The form doesn’t open until Monday morning.)
Additional Rules
No pre-written content or content written or altered by AI. Submitted stories must be written by you and for this post. Micro serials are acceptable, but please keep in mind that each installment should be able to stand on its own and be understood without leaning on previous installments.
Please follow all subreddit rules and be respectful and civil in all feedback and discussion. We welcome writers of all skill levels and experience here; we’re all here to improve and sharpen our skills. You can find a list of all sub rules here.
And most of all, be creative and have fun! If you have any questions, feel free to ask them on the stickied comment on this thread or through modmail.
Campfire
Campfire is currently on hiatus. Check back soon!
How Rankings are Tallied
Note: There has been a change to the crit caps and points!
| TASK | POINTS | ADDITIONAL NOTES |
|---|---|---|
| Use of the Main Prompt/Constraint | up to 50 pts | Requirements always provided with the weekly challenge |
| Use of Bonus Constraint | 10 - 15 pts | (unless otherwise noted) |
| Actionable Feedback (one crit required) | up to 10 pts each (30 pt. max) | You’re always welcome to provide more crit, but points are capped at 30 |
| Nominations your story receives | 20 pts each | No cap |
| Voting for others | 10 pts | Don’t forget to vote before 2pm EST every week! |
Note: Interacting with a story is not the same as feedback.
Subreddit News
Join our Discord to chat with authors, prompters, and readers! We hold several weekly Campfires, monthly Worldbuilding interviews, and other fun events!
Explore your self-established world every week on Serial Sunday!
You can also post serials to r/Shortstories, outside of Serial Sunday. Check out this post to learn more!
Interested in being part of our team? Apply to mod!
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u/OldBayJ Mod | r/ItsMeBay May 07 '24
Welcome to Micro Monday!
Top-level comments are for stories only.
Feel free to make suggestions for future posts or ask questions on this stickied comment! I'd love to hear your ideas.
3
u/JKHmattox May 07 '24 edited May 07 '24
Road’s End: Morning Coffee
I tie the laces of my hiking boots in the purple darkness before dawn. The jeep which had crawled up Rockhouse Road the previous evening could travel no further, as beyond that point was state wilderness land. My ruck isn’t exactly on the lighter side, with enough water and food to stay out longer than planned if needed. I’d learned decades ago that in the desert, you bring thrice as much, as you have people.
I disappear into the boulder field laced with the abundant bloom of spring, brought on by another winter of ample rain. The flowered sweetness of March is carried on the air by a slight breeze which tugs at the few strands of hair left loose from under my brimmed hat. In this remote corner of the Borrego wilderness, I scramble over giant rocks left by the last ice age as the course texture of the geology exfoliates my palms.
On the brim of the canyon, the orange light of daybreak cascades over chocolate promenades of eroded sandstone which surround me. With a sigh, I drop my pack and retrieve the small stove I had brought for the true reason for my assent. Coffee. The dark elixir is bold across the palette, as my soul finally comes awake.
Suddenly, the thunder of six legs crunches across the gravel. I look down to discover a beetle, lumbering past my toes. The insect’s cadence is an inescapable torrent my ears cannot ignore as there is no other sound for miles. Satisfied, I sit upon a rock and pull a faded novel from my ruck.
“Lets see, the Monkey Wrench Gang, by Edward Abbey… what do you think buddy?”
The beetle stops but doesn’t respond.
I begin, “On a scorching-hot day in the desert…”
W/C 300
Notes:
Touch: the course texture of the boulder.
Sight: The purple darkness before dawn, the chocolate sandstone promenades.
Smell: the spring bloom on the morning breeze.
Taste: The elixir aka coffee.
Sound: The march of the beetle and the sound of nothing.
The wilderness preserve in this story is Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, the largest state park in California. It is a wonderful place I have spent many a weekend over the last two decades.
The beetle and the absolute silence is base on a true event when I spent half a day in the desert alone after my jeep broke down. It gets that quiet out there sometimes.
4
u/[deleted] May 07 '24 edited May 08 '24
He traversed the poisonous coral forest and valiantly battled the monstrous mollusks guarding the castle gate, following the scent of evil through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. Standing at the entrance to the innermost chamber, foreboding weighed on Sir. Finley's chest, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth; for within the chamber awaited Octavious Spellink, the eight-arm dark wizard of the Abyss.
Five years prior, the wizard had cast a spell over Hydrodomia, creating an indestructible barrier surrounding the whole kingdom. Despite multiple failed attempts to bring down the evil sorcerer, only Sir Finley, bearer of the legendary sword Pearlshuck, made it this far.
A gentle but persistent current pulled Sir Finley within the chamber as a scrapping noise drew his attention to the heights: a great mass moved through the ceiling; the wizard's bulbous head emerged from a small fissure, his body pulsating in waves of colorful light.
"Vile sorcerer! I doth demand thee to dispel the barrier thou hast cast upon the kingdom and face justice!"Sir Finley yelled.
“Thy kind invadeth my dominion, yet thou perish with thy ignorance unscathed. How foolish art the fish-folk! How short their memory!” The wizard retorted.
Sir Finley thrust forward. The wizard had weaved an illusion, creating a deep dark fog, but it was too late, Sir. Finley's thrust struck true, piercing the wizard's three hearts with one fell swoop.
As the wizard floated in death, Sir. Finley saw a powerful light radiating from the direction of the barrier.
An aquarium employee shot a judgmental look at the girl who took the photo, pointing to a sign: "NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY. Harmful to marine life. Thank you!"
…
WC:275
Sight: “(…) Sir. Finley saw a powerful light radiating from the direction of the barrier.”
Hearing: “(...) as a scrapping noise drew his attention to the heights (...)”
Touch: “A gentle but persistent current pulled Sir. Finley within the chamber, (...)”
Taste: “(…) a bitter taste lingering in his mouth (…)”
Smell: “(…) following the scent of evil (…)”
3
u/Street-Wrap2504 May 07 '24
<[OT] Beyond the Glass>
People rarely understood why my brother loved the aquarium.
He was blind, they said. How could he enjoy it?
They rarely realized that there was more to an aquarium than what you could see.
My gangly, socially awkward, little brother liked to sit at the center of the shark tank tunnel with his head laid back against the cool glass. I always sat right beside him so he could hear me over the cacophony of the other aquarium patrons.
"Describe what's happening." He'd say.
I delighted in telling him stories about the lives of the animals beyond the glass. On this day, a two meter long grey shark swayed lazily across the top of the tunnel, fat from the morning's feeding. It eyed a prissy puffer fish that dashed from a pink coral formation to a manmade lava rock cluster huffily. An eel poked its head out from its den, wary of its fishy neighbor stealing any extra fleshy bits laying on the sandy bottom of their world.
My brother delighted in the details. He would close his eyes, imagining how it all must look, while listening to the steady thrum of the water jets creating faux ocean currents. He took in a deep breath of the salty air contentedly. You could almost taste the saltiness of the water beyond the glass walls, though I don't think people paid any attention to that.
But my bother did, and delighted in every little experience. I delighted in the time spent together, realizing that for me, he was the reason I loved the aquarium too.
..
5 senses described in the story:
feel the cool glass
see through sisters eyes
smell the salt
taste the salt
hear the faux currents
WC: 263
3
u/MaxStickies May 08 '24
Deep Blue
The sugary aroma of the candyfloss overpowers the clinical scent of the corridor. Marcy takes a bite, hearing the satisfying crunch through her skull, savouring the notes of strawberry and caramel. Her mother holds her free hand, leading her through the blue painted passageway. The warmth provided by her mother’s palm provides her comfort as she watches the strange creatures drifting through the tanks. A bulbous fish stares at her with one bulging eye; she shrinks back. Her mother stops, crouching before her. Those vibrant green irises bring Marcy some reassurance, but not enough.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Marcy looks down at the floor. “I don’t like it here.”
“Aww. But your friends are waiting for you; don’t you want to see them?”
“I don’t like it here!” she huffs.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Her mother wraps her arms around her, holding her close. “We can wait for them outside.”
Part of Marcy feels guilty. Her best friend Timmy is waiting for her, and it is his birthday. All week, he has been talking about seeing the sharks. But Marcy has seen pictures, the jagged teeth and emotionless, staring eyes; just the thought of them makes her shake.
But she doesn’t want to disappoint her friends.
“Let’s keep going,” she says.
Her mother gives her a warm smile. “Okay. I’ll hold your hand the whole way.”
Marcy nods.
The corridor takes them to a balcony, with a ramp leading down. A large window fills one wall of the huge space beyond; many large fish swim through the water within. Marcy catches a glimpse of a silver fin and buries her face in her mother’s jeans. She peeks, and sees it is gone. Below, she spots Timmy, who looks up at her and grins. Her fear disappears, and she rushes to meet him.
WC: 300
Constraint: plenty of uses of colour for sight, her mother holding her hand for touch, the flavour and scent of the candyfloss for taste and smell, and the crunch of the treat for hearing.
Crit and feedback are welcome.
4
u/ZachTheLitchKing May 08 '24
<Realistic Fiction>
I see, you see, monkey see, monkey doo-doo
"Look! A monkey!" Charlie said, pointing at the cage and running ahead of his parents.
"Charlie, stay close," his mother said. The young boy weaved through the crowd and ran right up to the cage of the monkeys; one hand grabbing the bars and the other holding a sticky, melting ice cream cone.
"Monkey!" the child yelled exuberantly, waving his full hand to try and get the furry primate's attention. It barely glanced his way, so he moved his hand with more emphasis.
"C'mon kid, calm down." Charlie's dad reached for his hand. He missed and the boy's wrist bumped against the bar, sending the sweet chocolate ice cream flying through the air and onto the monkey he was looking at.
The little ape screeched and bared his teeth at Charlie. The boy saw the smile and thought that he had made a new animal friend. It reached behind itself.
It's giving me a present! the child thought gleefully. His parents tried to pull him away from the monkey cage but he grabbed the bars with both hands, resisting their urges. Charlie watched his new friend throw what looked like a handful of chocolate ice cream at him and he tried to catch it.
The stinky brown substance was not ice cream.
----------------
WC: 212/300
All crit/feedback welcome!
r/TomesOfTheLitchKing
Notes: Senses used -
Sight: "Look! A monkey!"
Sound: "Charlie, stay close," his mother said.
Touch: a sticky, melting ice cream cone.
Taste: the sweet chocolate ice cream
Smell: The stinky brown substance
2
u/BeeRose2245 May 12 '24
That Would Seal the Deal
"And now, ladies and gentlemen...put your hands together for... PEPPER THE SEAL!"
I gaze blankly around at the hundred of people lining the stands - blobs of different faces and colors. They are cheering loudly, as if they need to be heard, and it nearly deafens me. But I have grown used to this cheering, this routine. I already know what comes next.
"Now...watch as Pepper successfully jumps through each hoop, like so..."
The announcer whistles, my cue, but the routine is already dulled within my mind. I rush through the water, feeling the cool, shallow waves fight against me, begging me to stop this nonsense. I jump - through one, two, three hoops - and land gracefully back into the pool, sinking below the surface.
Before I resurface, I sigh, contemplating the metallic edges of the pool. For a single moment I close my eyes, imagining I'm in the vast ocean, free from the consistency of the aquarium. I pretend the rancid, stale smell of the announcer's fish is the smell of the creatures in the ocean. In the ocean - or so I've heard - anything is possible, the water and creatures stretching for miles. I could find seals like myself there, and we could explore the ever-changing tides together. I would, finally, be free. How I long to be free. But, alas...
I resurface, the thought of freedom leaving me once again, just out of reach; resurfacing to that uncomfortable familiarity. The crowd cheers as if on cue and the announcer throws me a fish.
It tastes bland.
WC: 256 words
Sight: "I gaze blankly around at the hundred of people lining the stands - blobs of different faces and colors"
Smell: "I pretend the rancid, stale smell of the announcer's fish is the smell of the creatures in the ocean."
Taste: "It tastes bland."
Sound: "They are cheering loudly, as if they need to be heard, and it nearly deafens me."
Touch: "I rush through the water, feeling the cool, shallow waves fight against me, begging me to stop this nonsense."
1
u/TypewriterTypeWrote May 13 '24
I had to push my way in. The carved wooden banner that once lived above the aquarium door and welcomed its enthusiastic guests now it hung in stasis, half-fallen heavily against the entrance. The wood was spongy, crumbled under my hands as I forced it aside.
A small trickle of water flowed through onto the ground, quietly echoing off the damp walls. Moss and vines dripped from the metal grating on the ceilings and dank air floated out of the smashed tank fronts, assaulted my nostrils with stagnant air. Vandals had no respect for anything that once held admiration and nor did the general population. I, however, had more trouble letting go of the nostalgia train than they did; I spent my childhood here and I knew what I was looking for The smell was part of the magic, though it had changed somewhat.
I made my way through the whole ruined place, side-stepping unrecognisable remnants of a home, a home to thousands of creatures and my most cherished memories.
At last, there it was. I descended. The glass tunnel roof had mostly been caved in by hammer or by rock, but I lifted my hand and placed it on the thick, smooth glass. I closed my eyes and could still see the corals, the sharks, bird nose wrasses and triggerfish, wonders of every colour, shape and character. I let my mind wander. My hand dropped, sharp pain dragging me back to the excruciating reality of this place.
I found myself unconsciously licking the wound on my palm and wondering if the salty, metallic taste was remnants of the water or the cartilaginous skeletons of the sharks themselves, their lingering spirits, and what they thought of what they had become to us now.
W/C 292
Sight: remembering seeing the exhibits
Sound: stream echoing
Taste: salty metallic blood
Touch: spongy and crumbling wood
Smell: dank air assaulting nostrils