"I would look up at the ceiling every time he came near me. I searched in the white color for the peace and tranquility I needed to make the most important decision of my life. "

Micro fiction and flash fiction rely on implication and concise language to deliver maximum impact. Micro fiction is often poetic, punchy, and reliant on strong imagery.

This special episode includes a micro fiction piece written by a former colleague.

Blog: aliterarycornucopia.wordpress.com

"It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig," the man said. "It's not really an operation at all."

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.

"I know you wouldn't mind it, Jig. It's really not anything. It's just to let the air in."

The girl did not say anything.

You’ve heard the expression “the white elephant in the room.” Hemingway’s story “Hills Like White Elephants” addresses a topic that is taboo. This episode explores the ramifications of that topic.

Ernest Hemingway' s writing style is definitely different.

Check out Episode 123 for another Hemingway story: "Old Man at the Bridge" https://open.spotify.com/episode/7ipyRwAnO5RoKNkrCIRHWl?si=sDsvcT2OSPCAL05IEFD-lw

Toni Morrison's impact on literature is profound. She is celebrated for her examination of Black American experiences, particularly those of Black women, within their communities. Morrison's writing style is known for its poetic and luminous prose, and she is considered one of the greatest contemporary American novelists.

With The New Yorker article "The Work You Do, The Person You Are" we get an insight into Morrison's thoughts about work and earning money to help out her family.

Check out both the blog post and ALC Episode 122 for more information on Toni Morrison.

episode-146-toni-morrison-the-work-you-do-the-person-you-are

"Once upon a time there was a miller who had a beautiful daughter. When she came of age he wished that she was provided for and well married. He thought, "If a respectable suitor comes and asks for her hand in marriage, I will give her to him."

Not long afterward a suitor came who appeared to be very rich, and because the miller could find no fault with him, he promised his daughter to him.

The girl, however, did not like him as much as a bride should like her bridegroom. She did not trust him, and whenever she saw him or thought about him, she felt within her heart a sense of horror."

Before fairy tales became gentle and familiar, they were stories meant to endure.

Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm preserved tales shaped by hunger, fear, and hope—stories rooted in real lives and passed quietly from one generation to the next. These were not originally children’s stories, but cultural memory in symbolic form.

The Brothers Grimm helped define the modern fairy tale and influenced world literature in lasting ways. Every retelling, no matter how softened, still carries the echo of its origins.

"The Robber Bridegroom" is just one of those many retellings.

When we think of J.R.R. Tolkien, we usually think big: quests, wars, and vast imaginary landscapes. But one of the most revealing windows into his creative life comes from something much smaller—his Christmas letters to his children.

For more than twenty years, Tolkien wrote as Father Christmas, describing life at the North Pole in words and pictures. These letters were playful, sometimes chaotic, and deeply imaginative, filled with Elves, Goblins, and the ever-troublesome North Polar Bear. They weren’t meant for publication. They were meant to be believed.

What’s striking is how familiar the creative instincts feel. Invented alphabets, layered backstories, recurring characters—it’s all there, just scaled to the size of childhood wonder. Letters from Father Christmas reminds us that Tolkien’s greatest worlds didn’t begin as epics. They began as acts of love, shared between a father and his children.

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She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.

She crept along trembling with cold and hunger--a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!

What makes The Little Match Girl so striking is its simplicity. A young girl wanders the snowy streets on New Year’s Eve, trying to sell matches. She’s cold, starving, and afraid to return home. Every time she lights a match to warm herself, she’s transported—briefly—into visions of warmth, love, and comfort. In her final vision she sees her grandmother, and she follows her into a world free from pain.

Throughout his life, Andersen felt like an outsider—because of his class background, his lanky appearance, and his unreturned romantic attachments. This sense of longing shows up again and again in his stories, especially the sadder ones. You can feel it in The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling, and of course The Little Match Girl. These are stories about characters who dream of belonging somewhere else, somewhere kinder.

James Baldwins' story "Why He Carried The Turkey" is taken from Fifty Famous People - A Book of Short Stories, 1912.

"Well, that is lucky," said the old man, smiling. "I happen to be going that way, and I will carry your turkey, if you will allow me."

"That is John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States. He is one of the greatest men in our country," was the answer.

The young gentleman was surprised and ashamed. "Why did he offer to carry my turkey?" he asked.

James Baldwin was an influential American writer. He was an essayist, novelist, and playwright whose eloquence and passion on the subject of race in America made him one of the most important voices of the 20th century.

She descended into the basement, hunting for the wine her uncle had hidden there. A vintage from 1847. November, no less. Her birthday month. A coincidence? A grand reserve, priceless beyond imagination.

The stairs looked ready to betray her. Narrow. Uneven. Crumbling. Why, why had she worn heels today? Each step felt like a gamble. The railing, thin and wobbly, seemed more dangerous than helpful.

In a quest story the ultimate goal can be a physical object, a place, a person, or an internal change, and the journey often leads to personal growth and self-discovery for the hero (in this case it's a she). The physical object here is a valuable vintage wine bottle. Will our heroine pass the test to obtain this prize possession?