The Weight of Regret and other Microfictions.

Here is the next set of micro-fictions to continue the series.

The Weight of Regret: Every time he lied, a small, smooth stone appeared in his pocket. By his thirtieth birthday, he had to wear custom-tailored suits with reinforced seams just to stand upright. On his wedding day, he looked at his bride and said, "I have never loved anyone more," and for the first time in a decade, his pockets felt light.

The Sandcastle Architect: The boy spent all day building a cathedral out of wet sand, ignoring the tide. When the water finally rushed in, he didn't cry. He simply stepped onto the highest spire and sailed away on the foam, leaving behind a beach that was suddenly, inexplicably, a mile wider.

Echoes of the Future: In the city of Orestes, people don't hear echoes of what they just said. Instead, they hear what they will say exactly one year later. Silence is the most terrifying sound in Orestes; it means you won't be around to speak next spring.

The Compass: My grandfather left me a compass that didn't point North. It pointed toward "Home." I followed it across three oceans and two deserts, only to find it spinning wildly in circles when I stood in front of a mirror.

The Star-Stitcher: Every night, an old woman climbs a ladder of moonlight to sew the holes in the sky. People think those are stars, but they are actually patches of light leaking through from a world where no one ever goes to sleep.

The Unspoken Word: There is a word in an ancient, forgotten language that, when spoken, makes the listener forget their own name. A traveler once whispered it to a king; now the king wanders the palace halls, marveling at the crown he finds on his head every morning.

The Rainy Day: It rained for forty days, but not with water. It rained silver keys. Most people stayed inside, but one locksmith went out with a bucket. He spent the rest of his life looking for the doors they were meant to open.

The Shadow Puppet: A lonely puppeteer found he could detach his shadow and make it perform on the wall. The show was a hit, but one night the shadow took a bow and didn't come back. Now, the puppeteer walks through the world as a silhouette, while his shadow enjoys a steak dinner in the front row.

The Replacement: The android looked exactly like her late husband, down to the scar on his thumb. It cooked his favorite meals and told his favorite jokes. The only difference was that when she cried, the android didn't offer a tissue—it simply recorded the frequency of her sobs to better simulate "empathy" next time.

The Last Secret: Before the world ended, the Great Archivist allowed everyone to submit one secret to be stored in the eternal vault. Millions sent in confessions of love and theft. The very last entry, submitted seconds before the sun went out, simply read: "I was the one who left the door unlocked".