32 posts tagged with "Micro-fiction"

Old Li was responsible for cleaning the ornamental pond at Guanyin Bridge. These past few days, he was swamped. The koi carp in the pond, originally symbols of good fortune, had somehow collectively turned belly-up. Over thirty woven bags were filled with their cold corpses, piled up in a corner by the bridge like swollen gray tumors.

Old Li was an honest man who had been in this line of work for almost twenty years, and had seen his fair share of "accidents." He habitually sighed, feeling that these fish had truly had bad luck. Guanyin Bridge was known as a feng shui hotspot, but these koi carp didn't seem to appreciate it; even in death, they caused a commotion here.

Zhang Qiang was the 9.6 millionth person to squeeze into the live stream. He stared at the scrolling IDs on the screen, his heart pounding. It was Huang Zitao's live stream, and the prize was said to be the latest limited-edition interstellar spaceship model. Zhang Qiang had upgraded his home WIFI to 10G overnight for this lottery, and his fingers were almost numb from tapping.

"Beep—" The card swipe was crisp, and Xiao Li stepped through the west gate of Peking University. Her slightly immature figure, clad in a deep blue security uniform, was incongruous with the surrounding lush green pines and cypresses. Who would have thought that she, who once harbored the dream of becoming a graduate student at Peking University, would now become a security guard guarding its west gate?

PeachHeiHei, an ordinary office worker, lives a life as precise as a machine, going to and from work, eating, sleeping, and scrolling through his phone. Recently, he noticed frequent out-of-place login notifications on his account. Initially, he thought his password had been leaked, changed his password, and bound his phone number for verification, but the issue persisted.

"Welcome to the 'Starlight Shines' annual celebration. Please, stars, get out of your cars in an orderly fashion and collect your exclusive nameplates." A sweet female voice echoed in the parking lot, as uniform as the commands of a calisthenics exercise.

Old Wang has been a keeper at the scenic area for twenty years. Old Zhang, the “sleepy fish” he raised, has recently made the news. Not because Old Zhang was sleeping even more soundly, but because it died.

Liu Qiang opened his computer, and the words "Welcome to Myawaddy" popped up on the screen. It was his first day at his new company, and he was a little excited. He had previously worked 996 at an internet company, working himself to the bone with a low salary, but this time he finally made a successful job switch. The new company not only offered double the pay but also had overseas work opportunities, which was a dream come true.

"Rules and regulations, please understand." Security guard Lao Wang repeated this phrase expressionlessly, like a robot with a preset program. In his hand was the takeout—a small package of antipyretic medicine, ordered by the guests in room 308 of the hotel.

At precisely eight o'clock, the alarm clock rang on time. Old Wang sprang out of bed with a lunge, his movements as swift as a sprinter in a 100-meter dash. He didn't even bother to wash up; he grabbed his phone and rushed to his computer desk. This was the top priority for the evening—the JD Spring Festival Shopping Festival, with large-screen TVs up for grabs at 9.9 yuan.

"OK, let's go online."