Monthly Micro March 2026
It's micro writing time!
Hi story lovers!
It’s the first Monday of the month and of the year so it’s Monthly Micro time!
Here’s how it works:
It’s completely free. No submission fees, no Submittable forms to fill out.
It’s simple. I post a prompt on the first Monday of every month. You write a micro fiction (max 75 words) and drop it in the comments below the post (no sending them as a reply to the email as it won’t be read or included in the prize draw!). That’s it.
There’s a prize. The winner will be selected randomly from everyone who comments with a story. Everyone has an equal chance, whether it’s your first micro or your hundredth. The prize is a free ticket to the Zoom workshop of your choice (must be used within 3 months).
The winner of the January comp (as I took a month off in Feb as I was so busy), selected by random number generator, is Maggie who shared this story.
Snuggled warm, in the hollow nest made between duvet and sagging mattress. An alarm before sunrise.
“Oh the cold,” Charlotte muttered as she threw back the covers.
In the kitchen she boiled water. Made coffee, and returned to bed. “Holiday weekends are just the best” Charlotte smiled, before she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Congratulations Maggie! You win a workshop and you can see what’s coming up here.
March Prompt
BANG
Write a micro fiction (max 75 words) inspired by this prompts and share it in the comments below.
What fills the spaces we've emptied? What grows in the hollows we leave behind? This month, explore what's absent, what echoes, what hides in the gaps.
Deadline: Monday 9th March 2026
I’m really looking forward to seeing what you all create.
See you in the comments!
With love,
Amanda 💙
BANG
The champagne cork goes flying, ricocheting off the ceiling, leaving a pale dent above the door.
Applause follows, like an audience at curtain call.
I pour straight into iridescent coupes, purple-pinkish shimmer, the kind gifted for anniversaries.
The divorce papers lay unsigned on the counter, patient as guests who know the ending.
Later, I studied that crater in the plaster.
Tiny impact.
Astonishing what passes for celebration.
As if I haven’t just uncorked the silence.
BANG ON TIME
Arriving at the station that evening, I could see my train pulling away. I looked up at the Live Departure Board. Apparently it was running bang on time. That’s perplexing, as I was ten minutes early.
I asked at the ticket office. There had been “temporary technical anomalies”. I lost my temper. I had missed my train. It was an hour till the next one.
Cursing, I checked my watch. It was ten minutes slow.