Mike Driver
Game of Thrones Daily
ojovivo
noise dept.
No title available
Cosmic Funnies
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
The Bright Sessions
Love Begins
NASA
KIROKAZE
if i look back, i am lost
🪼
Today's Document
shark vs the universe
hello vonnie
oozey mess
titsay
almost home
Origami Around
seen from Australia
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seen from Portugal
seen from Vietnam
seen from Niger
seen from Australia
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Mongolia
seen from Nigeria
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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Currently on hiatus
FewerThan500 is currently on publishing hiatus. We are truly grateful to the writers and editors who have contributed their talent to the site, and, of course, to our readers. Stay tuned for future developments.
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Author Profile: Donna Dallas How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? I’ve been writing since I was a child.
Bovine Divine
By Donna Dallas She was interested in a man, a real man. He was searching for companionship, a mate. They met on equal terms, becoming equal partners. Overwhelmed by her beauty, he was proud of himself for discovering such a pearl. She fell instantly in love with his good looks. They shared silliness and deepness. (more…)
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Author Profile: Kristy Kassie
Author Profile: Kristy Kassie
How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? I’m an English and ESL Instructor and Private tutor originally from Trinidad and Tobago who now lives in Vancouver, Canada. My journey as a writer began with my love of reading. My mom bought me a lot of books and encouraged me to use new vocabulary in my writing. When I was nine, I won first place in an essay competition for…
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Different Eyes
By Kristy Kassie Kerry stood in the shadow of the hibiscus tree. She heard her friends squealing and stifled a giggle. Her bratty brother and boy cousins were finding her friends where they hid but Kerry had the best spot ever. Her friends had helped her to the hilltop because she was the birthday girl. For lunch, Mom and Aunt Daphne had laid out macaroni pie, barbecued chicken and a chocolate…
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Author Profile: Michael Croban How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? I have been writing poetry since my teenage years, which eventually turned into writing songs for my band.
The Traveler
By Michael Croban Every morning he would get up from his bed and do his morning rituals, which include shaving and showering, among other things. Then he would put his best suit on and with a briefcase in his hand, he would face the mirror. Almost every time he would be pleased with what he would see. He would leave the apartment with a smile on his face. Sometimes he would take a cab to the…
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Author Profile: Mary Senter
Author Profile: Mary Senter
How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? I did some writing when I was a teenager, but then life got in the way and I took a 20-year hiatus. At 39, I finally finished my undergrad degree. I’d been taking some local history classes and I had a lot of questions about what happened to the mixed-race offspring of the marriages that were formed during the fur trade, once…
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My BFF Molly
By Mary Senter She opened her puffy eyes to see light streaming through a dirty aluminum framed window. It took her a minute to figure out where she was. Clothes piled on brown shag carpet. Thrift store furniture. She heard his throaty breathing and remembered. She slowly slid her legs from under the sheet, dangling them over the edge of the bed and carefully contorted her torso until she was on…
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Author Profile: Kieron Walquist How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? Well, I don’t know if I’m a writer—I would say I’m more of a wannabe—but it’s always been my dream to write and tell stories.
The Blood Moon
By Kieron Walquist In the black wax of midnight, she floats in the sky. Hungry for blood. Always starving. We hunt for the moon, our mother. We lure boys and girls into the trees by a siren song too sweet to shake. Upon a stone altar, they die screaming. And under her frosty flame, we dance, naked but bathed in red, howling. It’s the price we pay. For youth. For beauty. (more…)
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A Toll Road Apart
A Toll Road Apart
By Debra S. Levy It was time to say good-bye. Much as Alison hated leave-takings, this was even worse; a few hours earlier they’d just said hello. While their boyfriends talked directions and best routes, she and Davina stood in the driveway, silent for the first time all day. That afternoon they’d leaned over Davina’s kitchen table into the minutia of their respective lives, talking, talking.…
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Rainy Night
By Robert Lackey The litter-clogged drains overflowed onto the sidewalks. My left shoe let in the rain, soaking the shredded newspaper under my foot. I usually put my good sock on that foot when it’s wet out, but last night was mild. I still had my thin sock with the big-ass hole on my left foot. Shit. (more…)
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Author Profile: Tamara Linden How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? I started writing stories almost as soon as I learned to hold a pencil, but I started writing "seriously" about two years ago when I started tutoring for a living.
The Captive
By Tamara Linden There’s food. They throw a few crusts of stale bread into the cage and laugh as we fight over them. A dirty, stubbled knee smashes into my face as I reach into the melee with one hand and shove aside a frail old woman with the other. My hand closes spasmodically around a small piece but, as I bring the prize to my lips, another girl tries to snatch it from me. I jerk away and…
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Author Profile: Harvey Steinberg How and when did you decide, or discover, that you were to be a writer? Let me say what caused meÂ
Norbert's Memoir
Norbert’s Memoir
By Harvey Steinberg There was just enough space in the bank’s private lock-box room for Norbert to write his memoirs. He finished a paragraph with: ‘I was an innocent child.’ Norbert mindlessly flipped open his lock-box Number 426.  He couldn’t resist thumbing through its documents. His bonds, his stocks. Mortgage papers, many papers. Papers, papers, a cascade that displayed what he had figured…
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