I wrote very short stories within 140 characters (Twitfics!).
Beads of red caress the leaves. The forager curses, the moon placid and unmoved by his pain. No more nettles.
The lanterns throbbed like red hearts in the dark. Laughter and singing, the fae danced the moon. The hunter watched.
She removed the rouge off her porcelain face. The moon glowed, moon mirror maiden. With a brush, she became a he.
The oysters opened their shells, revealing their fleshy bodies. The moon beckoned. Chefs readied their knives
She stepped on a crab. Oh yes, she remembered. Migration season. She gazed at the blood-tinged moon. Ah, good times.