Monthly Micro May 2026
It's micro writing time!
Hi story lovers!
It’s the first Monday of the month 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 have a week to 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 April comp, selected by random number generator, is Sally shared this story.
THE LAST WORD
I shift into park and turn off the engine.
“What are you doing?” Mark grunts.
“Saving gas. We’re not going anywhere fast.”
Traffic departing Seabright Island backs up on weekends. I’ve suggested midweek appointments, but no.
“It takes more gas to restart than idle.” Mark smiles, thinking he’s won.
“That’s what Dr. Williams has been saying about our marriage for months.”
“Touché.”
Traffic moves again. I turn on the engine, lightly step on the gas.
Congratulations Sally! You win a workshop and you can see what’s coming up here.
May Prompt
BANK
This month, think locked vaults, secret deposit boxes, heists and armed robberies - which all scream intrigue and action. But what about riverbanks, a school taking care of a new bank of computers, the banking of a car on a precipice…
Write a micro fiction (max 75 words) inspired by this prompt and share it in the comments below.
Deadline: Monday 11th May 2026
I’m really looking forward to seeing what you all create.
See you in the comments!
With love,
Amanda 💙
School Reunion
“You look just the same,” Jeannette lies.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” you lie back.
It’s 40 years since you met, and — as your rude brother puts it — a lot of water has been passed since then.
You hope Jeannette is not lying as much as you are.
Jeannette is really fat, while you still bank on the figure that attracted the sixth-form boys.
And Jeannette’s much more wrinkled than you are.
Isn’t she?
Message from a Sandbank
My late brother’s flat-bottomed skiff lies half-submerged since sharks snapped the keel and dragged him off. After three days on this sandbank, a five-hour swim to the shore is beyond me.
Tomorrow I'll try the radio unless the tide floods it.
The last surviving Hawksbill turtles in the world, the ones I promised my father I’d rescue, taste bitter and tough with no wood to cook them with.
I’m also the last in my line.