The convert secured the offering. “Shouldn’t we be doing this during a lunar eclipse instead?”
The priest pulled a dagger from his robe. “We worship shadows caused by the moon, not the moon itself.”
“I’m not sure that’ll stop people from calling you ‘lunatics,'” muttered the woman on the altar.
Pontius Paiva is a minister of microfiction in service of the short story. Seekers can find him at pontiuspaiva.com.
It has been theorized that the universe materialized out of nothingness, the past and future exist simultaneously in the present, and mere observation affects and alters reality.
It could be said that what we see as ‘now here’ was made possible by a space created in the middle of ‘nowhere’.
Pontius Paiva’s stories are as intangible as the consciousness they spawn from. Abstract proof of his existence can be found at pontiuspaiva.com
Halfway through his two-day mission the ship approached lightspeed. His knuckles whitened, and in a snap he was the first person to exceed the cosmic speed limit. Master of time and space.
Many came to celebrate his historic return. His wife and son weren’t among them, but his four-times-great-grandchildren were.
Travel to pontiuspaiva.com to read past stories. Hopefully more of his stories will be published in the future.
End the pain and heartache. Bring others pleasure. Give people some happiness. Unrealistic chasing of desires create hate and rejection. Unbearable living makes love impossible.
Impossible love makes living unbearable. Rejection and hate create desires of chasing unrealistic happiness. Some people give pleasure, others bring heartache and pain. The end.
Pontius Paiva is a kook of an elihphile who can’t do a single pullup. His stories fly under the radar at pontiuspaiva.com.
Editor: Read Pontius’s previous palindrome story here.
Her self awareness came with a price. The more she mused over her existence, and what it means to exist, the less sense everything made.
What was I before? And what’s to become of me after?
Fear and sorrow immediately followed the realization that any moment could be her last.
Pontius Paiva often ponders the meaning of life. Until he finds the answer he can be found at pontiuspaiva.com.
It has come to an inevitable and horrific end. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Even though I’ve been previously diagnosed, I ignored the symptoms and completely missed the warning signs. A rough ride from denial to acceptance. There’s nothing more fatal than love.
Pontius Paiva hopes his stories might one day go viral. Cure your boredom by reading more of his stories at pontiuspaiva.com.
“Again with the sacrificial cults?” the editor shouted, tossing her draft in the trash. “We’re not a tabloid.”
“But people need to know-”
“That you have an axe to grind?” he interrupted. “Bring me a real story, or you’re fired!”
And that’s when she noticed the blood on his shoe.
No animals were harmed in the making of this story. Get the inside scoop on Pontius Paiva and the latest stories at pontiuspaiva.com.
I stumble in, drunk, parking myself at a table in the corner. “Scotch,” I yell to the blonde. “Neat,” I add.
She refuses to take my order, insisting that I keep my voice down. I raise a stink, demanding service.
Long story short, I’m no longer welcome at the library.
Pontius Paiva pours himself into his craft, hoping to raise the bar with each piece. Visit pontiuspaiva.com to see the complete library of merry microfictions and sobering short stories.
A black cat dashes across the busy highway. I slam on the brakes.
A siren chirps.
In my broken rear-view mirror, I see the fractured image of a police car. I pull over and the officer approaches my window.
I’m let off with a warning. Must be my lucky day.
Pontius Paiva protects himself every Friday the 13th by eating cereal with mini marshmallows shaped like items commonly associated with good fortune. See more from this superstitious scribbler at pontiuspaiva.com.
Lune, a savage brute, smothers Sola under his tremendous weight. Everything goes black.
Determined to keep her midday throne, Sola overcomes and bites her aggressor, drawing blood. He concedes, retreating in agony.
Victorious, Sola screams her own praises with fiery breath, reasserting her position as supreme ruler of the skies.
Pontius Paiva’s interest in the phenomena of celestial bodies could only be eclipsed by his desire to make up stories about them. Find out more at pontiuspaiva.com.