Micro fiction has very interesting stories.

  I am not good-looking : I am very different from other girls now. Cuck... Who says that? I know... and my color is very dark... everyone hates me. No one hates... Does your grandmother also hate you? No, she... she loves me a lot... because she loves me... But others say bad things about me... who loves me among them?... No one likes to be friends with me... no one likes to sit with me... I think you're nice... You're not like the others... When the beauty assured her, the five-year-old girl burst into tears.   (End of story)

  Title: Who am I, and what do I want? : Taking a gander at the gigantic solicitations of character and need, a dull part thought of, "Who am I, and what is it that I need?" amid a horrendous breadth of torment. It set out on a journey from the space of presence to the farthest reaches of wonder conveying candles that had broken down, which tended to unfulfilled longings As the component researched the profundities of its internal and outer presence, a smoky dimness emanated from its lips. A feeble voice heard, "You can't understand... what your character is?" “All that remains is the husk of what was once a considerable construction, presently loaded up with the residue of time," it answered. The inquirer persisted, examining the aggravations and inside yells, to which it replied, "They at present focus like as of late lit lights, reliably," shivering. "A few recollections wait, while others blur, debilitated by the hands of memory,...

  Title "Do you know why love happens? For true peace, physical comfort, coolness of the eyes, mental satisfaction, and gifts from our loved ones: But thank God there is worship, I am fine. The worst has happened to me. time   Hear me, love how does one live? With moist eyes and soft lips, she awaited the response of her beloved. "I don't know about these theories. I don't know where love happened to me. You must know the love that has happened to you." Enough of useless talk: Come here, sit next to me, and then tell me where you want to go. The servant of love had a smirk on her face and began to sob."    

  Title: "Discovering Love: A Tale of Unexpected Moments" : Have you anytime wound up pondering the staggering beginning stages of warmth? It is the power behind a quiet heart, the eye-relieving demulcent, the delight of the spirit, and the class presented by a friend or family member. It is also the solace for the body. When, in any case, does regard truly grow? It appears okay, especially as it was accomplished for me. "Take a moment to pause and think about it. At any point could you have the option to tackle the issue of intensity? “She stated, "Those dewy eyes and delicate lips, vivaciously expecting a reaction from a respected one, I'm negligent of such philosophical contemplations." Love's appearance is a stand-separated try that is novel to every individual. "We should save these hypothetical conversations. Oblige me, sit close to me, and may we one day fail to remember the intricacies of life. I stay aware of that something should acco...

Encountered a powerful blow: : And now, after twenty years, she was dealt a powerful blow that seemed to be impossible to overcome. The emerald cuffs, which had held her with each progressive stagger, had turned dead. Inert were the precious stone-like eyes, conveying the weak impression of bountiful distress, gobbled up by the dimness of death. She, who used to pay attention to children's songs with a delicate voice settled in the delicate warmth of the twilight hug, presently confronted a quietness that overwhelmed the pleasant sound. The quiet voice had fallen quiet; the twilight face that enlightened each second with its bow radiates was lost in the reverberations of an unheard mourn. She had given in to the unseen whirlpool of despair, bound in the shackles of an unseen storm. Vulnerable, she battled against the delicate blows, as the inhumane youngster, captivated by bogus allurements, staggered forward. However, the gullible heart continued, gripping its mysterious toy, ...

   Dust and dirt on the uneven ground: : Today, on the path through the woods, he stumbled upon a large stone. Perhaps it was the impact of his collision with it that caused all the dust and dirt on the uneven ground to land in his mouth. He stood up, easing his knee, as the sound of his cough echoed from his throat. "These people on the crossroads are strange. They can't even remove such a big obstacle. Anyone can stumble upon it in an instant; the path should be clear," he grumbled. Brushing off his clothes, he moved forward and stumbled once again. Another fall, but this time there was no stone. A short distance away, his wife and his liver friend were coming towards him, talking animatedly. With disdain, his wife threw divorce papers in his direction and said, "Even after marrying me, send him away. You have created a hurdle between us. The path should be clear. And instead of standing up, he slithered into the ground."  

The Miracle of the Oven: A Tale of Hope and Redemption: : Once, an inconceivable fear started holding him, emanating from his oven. It had never ended up working. When he looked inside at this point, an unsettling sound kept coming back, scaring him. Even though the stove was on fire with wood, it seemed to be a dull, profound well. He assumed that his oven had been berated. Notwithstanding the way that he arranged bread in it, they seemed, by all accounts, to be missing any hint of the name of being cooked. Notwithstanding using more wood than various grills, his oven kept on getting colder and stood out from its accomplices. Was this the transient serenity before poop hits the fan? He couldn't comprehend. He desperately expected to free himself of this grill and articulated to his buddies that he truly needed a buyer for his shop. The city was defying trying times, with an unexplained redness above growing ordinary. These odd signs were ridiculed by some, however, when it...