We have another featured author — welcome Nissa Harlow to the spotlight, with her micro “Shells and Wings”…

Shells and Wings

When I put my ear against his, I can hear the sea.

He hasn’t been the same since the day the waters tried to steal him from my arms.

When we walk at the shore, he stares at the setting sun with kelp-hued eyes until they start to water. His steps stop. His knees bend. His body twists into the sideways scuttle of a deranged crustacean. I won’t let go of his hand, so I go along for the ride as he dodges tourists and baby strollers, tangling in retractable leashes while I hop a crazy game of canine jumprope and whisper weak apologies. He always ends up in the same place, tucked in the shadow of a massive piece of driftwood, arms and legs folded into a neat package while I stand, stooped, and tug on his hand.

The doctors said he would be fine, given time.

When we order pizza, he insists on extra anchovies and eats with both hands, fingers arranged like pincers as they dart the cheesy slices toward his mouth. He won’t talk to me while he eats. He picks off the offending mushrooms with his claws and adds too much salt to his glass of water. The paper napkins with the pizzeria’s logo lie in shreds under his chair.

Time was given.

When we lie in bed, he’s as still as stone, frozen in slumber. But I can’t sleep. The sound of crashing waves keeps me awake. I take a pair of disposable earplugs from the drawer and insert them in his ears. The night grows quiet once more. But I still can’t sleep. I go to the balcony and clutch at the railing as I wait for more time. The sky tried to steal me once. That was before it changed its mind and sent me back.

The doctors said I would be fine, given time.

Time was given.

I wish for my promised wings as he wishes for his promised shell.

When he puts his ear against mine, I wonder what he hears.

The Stats:

Published: 05 April 2025
Magazine: Kinpaurak
Word Count: 341
Submission History: Rejected by Weird Wide Web, Fractured Lit, Factor Four Magazine, Flash Frog, Kaleidotrope, Menagerie, and Dream Theory Media. Withdrawn from Okay Donkey.
Payment: $5

Inspiration for the story:

“‘I wrote “Shells and Wings” for a contest on Weird Wide Web. It was one of the first times I’d written anything truly weird… and it was a lot of fun! The mental image of a man who’d had an accident and woke up thinking he was a crab sort of popped into my head. The rest followed naturally. This is one of my favourite micros, so I was disappointed when Kinpaurak and all of its wonderfully weird stories disappeared. I republished the story on my Substack on June 1, 2026… so it’s now available to read again.”

My thoughts: I sure love me some weird fiction, and I think microfiction is a well-suited vehicle for delivering a fast punch of the odd. And this opening line:

“When I put my ear against his, I can hear the sea.”

It immediately sets the tone for expecting strangeness. Who is this person? Is it even a person? After the partner is introduced, I love how the word “crab” is never used, just phrases like “kelp-hued” and “sideways scuttle.”

And then I think back on the opening line, remembering that the whole piece is colored in a supernatural wash — someone suffering from a delusion after an accident wouldn’t have ocean sounds in their ear. Something surreal is happening.

Then this hint:

“The sky tried to steal me once. That was before it changed its mind and sent me back.”

We don’t have to know exactly what happened to see the parallel, the longing in both — for the security of a shell, for the freedom of wings.

It’s a lovely juxtaposition in a haunting, strange little micro.

Micro Tip: Nissa’s story illustrates that you can often leave much unsaid in a micro. We don’t know the actual details of anything that happened, but that doesn’t matter — we can feel the strong emotions stirred, and that’s what lingers.

Thanks for being my guest author, Nissa! If you’d like to read more of Nissa’s writing, you can find her website here!

Do you want to be featured here? Of course you do! Send me some of your microfiction: literary, genre, beautiful, weird… doesn’t matter. But here’s what does matter:

• it must be a reprint / previously published — I don’t want to use up any first publishing rights

• it must be clearly visible online — you need to include a link to where I can see it

• 500 words max

• you can send me up to three at a time — please don’t deluge me with your tiny treasures

• if you wrote the micro to a prompt, let me know — I love to see how other people’s brains work

• if you were published in one of the micro markets featured on this substack, please mention it — we need to know they are all eventually-crackable…

I’m definitely not a ‘microfiction expert,’ but I know what I like, and if you’re sending a work to me, someone else obviously liked it, too. So in addition to presenting them, I’ll add a comment on why I enjoyed the piece and what (IMO) makes it good microfiction.

So come on — toot your horn already!

I can’t wait to read your pocket-sized publications!

Our first featured author is here — welcome Chris Clemons to the spotlight, with his micro “All the Birthdays”…

All the Birthdays

After the exhausted bunnies and deflated bouncy-castle are discarded from Janie Ratzinger’s party, it’s time for cake. A pink monstrosity piled with melting Barbies drips in the summer sunlight, topped with eight crooked candles. Make your wish, my perfect darling. Janie narrows her flat green eyes (at ME? because I scored three goals??). Then she blows out the candles very carefully, with a scary smile. The next day mom says we’re not going to Happy Kingdom with my friends this weekend, but I’m invited to Janie’s birthday - isn’t that nice? I say it was supposed to be MY birthday, but apparently not. I check the calendar. It’s blank. At Janie’s next party she totally ignores me, bullies the clown nobody asked for, criticises the gift-wrapping, and spills Coke on Olivia’s dress, making her cry. The cake is even bigger, wobblier, with goops of plastic-looking frosting. As she extinguishes the candles, Janie stares hard at sniffling Olivia. Then she whispers her wish, eyes squeezed tight like fists. I watch real close, try to figure out how she stole away my birthday, but Janie’s mother tells me not to be greedy. Thank you so much for coming, she coos, hovering by the open door with Disney gift bags full of Dollarama trinkets. We’ll see you soon.

The Stats:

Published: 17 October 2025
Magazine: Night Shades
Word Count: 215
Submission History: Rejected by Ghost Parachute, NewMyths, Fairy Tale Review, Crepuscular and Uncanny. Withdrawn from Augur.
Payment: $85 CAD

Inspiration for the story:

“‘All the Birthdays’ was in response to a prompt in an online writing community — they have contests which I try to enter weekly, even if my idea is hurried or trash, because at least I’m writing SOMETHING, right? The prompt was “miss the most”. I’d been attending way too many of these parties with my kids, watching grade schoolers spluttering all over their cake candles after making these eyes-closed, performative wishes, and in an unfairly cynical moment I wondered what the most selfish wish of all might be - the old infinite birthday loophole! But who might miss out in the aftermath?

The original story did not win the weekly contest, but I expanded marginally beyond the 200 word limit with the help of some critiques, and started sending it out immediately. I have some issues with patience.”

On working with Night Shades:

“I've had three stories rejected by Night Shades before this one, and three since. I think the fact that this story was so short - half the word count maximum - worked in its favour: tight focus on premise/voice. After working with a lot of editors I can say Anna Reser is comparatively efficient. 10 days between submission and acceptance, informal email agreement, PayPal transfer same day, online proof page three weeks later, published live a week after that. No edits - text appeared exactly as submitted. I didn't choose the picture (and I guess I could've objected during proof) but I loved what she came up with! Super creepy. Overall: great experience from a writer's perspective!”

My thoughts: First of all, keeping the micro all in one paragraph is very de rigeur in lit mags these days, and I think it works quite well in Chris’s story — really adds to the ‘stream of consciousness’ of the narrator. Speaking of which, Chris has really embodied the narrator’s POV, using child-like words like ‘wobblier’ and describing Janie’s smile as ‘scary.’ A consistent voice is non-negotiable in microfiction! I also love the way Chris’ speculative element is subtle — it’s only after we read the whole micro that we realize there’s a birthday Groundhog-Day-thing going on.

Chris actually gave a great micro tip as he discussed this micro’s submission history:

“Some of these market submissions might make no sense - this was a ridiculous swing for Ghost Parachute - but I was often submitting as "prose poetry" (worth trying for one-paragraph stories, esp. speculative).”

It’s a very logical leap from microfiction to ‘prose poetry,’ so don’t be afraid to retool your drabbles into prose poems, and even full blown free verse!

Thanks for being my first victim guest author, Chris! If you’d like to read more of Chris’s writing, you can find it here!

Do you want to be featured here? Of course you do! Send me some of your microfiction: literary, genre, beautiful, weird… doesn’t matter. But here’s what does matter:

• it must be a reprint / previously published — I don’t want to use up any first publishing rights

• it must be clearly visible online — you need to include a link to where I can see it

• 500 words max

• you can send me up to three at a time — please don’t deluge me with your tiny treasures

• if you wrote the micro to a prompt, let me know — I love to see how other people’s brains work

• if you were published in one of the micro markets featured on this substack, please mention it — we need to know they are all eventually-crackable…

I’m definitely not a ‘microfiction expert,’ but I know what I like, and if you’re sending a work to me, someone else obviously liked it, too. So in addition to presenting them, I’ll add a comment on why I enjoyed the piece and what (IMO) makes it good microfiction.

So come on — toot your horn already!

I can’t wait to read your pocket-sized publications!