The lights from the gas station’s canopy reached out 20 yards before succumbing to darkness. The only other light was the buzzing neon sign that said “open.”
Across the years, I must have appeared to her as a timeless caretaker unchanged. She thought I didn’t age and I was always tall.
The TV said it wasn’t safe outside anymore. We haven’t opened the door since the flash. That was months ago.
What is microfiction? And how can I write it?
Marco’s mother told him never to play by the water.