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Micro SF/F stories by O Westin @MicroSFF@mastodon.social

If it's any consolation, I'm seeing people cross-posting my stories from Mastodon to Twitter. :-)

That would be unfair, the fediverse deserves to see more than that from you.

"Apologies for the intrusion," said a strange voice in my head. "We are telepaths on a distant planet, and usually tune humanity out as background noise. But so many of you ask, all the time, so we checked: yes, there are others like you, and yes, you can be loved. Okay?"

The person appeared from nowhere. "Excuse me," they said, "may I take a DNA sample of you?"
"I'm from the future. We try to determine when our species moved on from being 'human'."
"I've never heard of anything more 'human' than that."

"CourtingBot, initiate courtship with that person there."
"They have enabled autodecline."
"Is it overridable?"
"You have been added to a global 'brute' list."
"Without my consent? Can they do that?"

The engineer looked at Death. "I am dead?"
"Then tell me, was there a plan?"
"Yes," said Death, "everyone has a destiny."
"Can I see?"
The engineer studied the plan. "This has been changed."
"Of course," said Death. "You changed."
The engineer smiled. "Of course."

I'm guessing 50% of 'viral' Facebook content is Instagram shares of screenshots of Tumblr posts, half of which are screenshots of Twitter threads.

"Dear Diary,
They say each hyperspace jump has a risk of memory loss, so: the people I love are..."
Huh. This must be someone else's diary.

The alien civilization was long gone when we found their planet. Only a few crumbling ruins under the vegetation showed where they had lived.
But the ghosts of their music still lingered, for those who could hear the echoes of dreams. Alien words sang: neh-ver-goh-nah-let-yu-dahn

He woke up under an apple tree by a cottage.
"Welcome to the afterlife," a voice said.
"Is this Heaven?" he asked.
"No. This is Kryta, in Guild Wars 2."
"What, the game?"
"Yes. You are an NPC now."
"So this is Hell?"
"No, there are many worse worlds."
He picked an apple. "Right."

"I can not understand Humans," the first alien said.
"They are simple," said the other. "Anything they encounter that moves, they try to pet. If it does not move, they taste it."
"What if it kills them?"
"Then another tries."
"How are they not all dead?"
"It works often enough."

The prince smiled as the flying carpet floated down to the palace balcony.
"Do your highness like it?" the carpet vendor asked.
"I love it! How many can you sell?"
"How man- How could you use more than one?"
"I want all people like me, who struggle to walk, to have one!"

I once played in a campaign where there had been a huge magic war, with areas that had specific, localised weirdness. Like "everything is blocky, like Minecraft", or "everything, including trees and rocks, have wings and can fly", or "everything is two-dimensional and can't be seen edge-on".
My character collected a kitten from each location.

The spaceship landed. An alien emerged.
"Hi," it said. "Um. I wrote a note, but..."
It held out a crate of plums.
"For your ice box. Sorry."

"Does this mean I'm a prophet?"
"Nah," said God. "I just wanted someone to hear my view."
"But I am, well, was, an atheist?"
"Yeah. You hadn't already decided what I'm like. You listen well. Thank you. It was nice to talk."
"Any time."
"Thanks," God smiled. "I'll see you later."

"This isn't the future I was promised! Where is my hovercar?"
"They're too heavy. But we all have hoverbelts, teleport-"
"But no hovercar!"

"I'm sent from the future," the cat said.
"To tell you things get better."
"Oh! That's-"
"A lie."
"A lie?"
"Bird-hunting is banned."

"... and everything's horrible and there's nothing we can do."
"Hold on," she said. She stepped off the path to pick up a discarded water bottle.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"There's a recycling bin a bit further up."
"Oh. Anyway, we're so powerless-"
"Let's do what we can."