My First Take At Micro-Fiction

Taking Chances

Anna sat at the first table to the left of the library stairs; her usual spot. Her brown hair curled around her neck and dropped down her shoulder, her head was down, buried in a book. She looked forward to these moments of solitude. Yet today she felt different. She felt restless.

She could feel someone approaching. Anna recognized this man from her math class—he was usually late, and always reading. She’d met his eyes once on the very first day— piercing blue. They were striking, and his short dirty blonde hair made him even more charming.

He sat across from her and opened The Great Gatsby while beginning to sip his coffee. He eased back in his chair, looking relaxed, and content, like he was reading for pleasure.

Very Interesting, Anna thought to herself.

She smiled and quickly looked back down, fearing herself staring too long. For the next few moments she contemplated speaking to him, but what would she say? Chances are she would probably make a fool of herself.


Anna had class in fifteen minutes. She had to make a decision. It crossed her mind the prospect that he would find her weird, and her math classes would be eternally ruined by her humiliation, if she did mess this up.

No. I can’t. I can’t do it. But I can’t just keep waiting passively for the stars to align, either. I’m doing it.

Anna tore a corner off from her notebook: “Text me” with her number and signed her name. Swallowing her fear, she swiftly dropped it down next to him. He looked up with wide eyes, confusion, and before there was time for a response she ran down the stairs and out the door.

Did I really just do that?

. . .

Still nothing in her inbox.

Oh, God. Why did I do that?

To Anna’s surprise, a new number pops up,

“Hi, It’s James, from the library, and math.”

Her stomach went into knots and a smile grew across her face.


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