As previously stated, 55 word fiction stories are awesome. Why, some may ask? Because they are. Because I said so. Because GOD said so. (Allah said so too! And the other god for the other religion, I forget his name..)
I'm not religious, btw. Err, kinda.. I'm an anemist, but it'll take too long to explain.. Short version, it's like paganism but people refer to pagans badly so it's like a different name.. I don't practice any religion though, so I just say I'm not religious..
^ When did I start talking about religion?
Anyways. I love 55 word stories, because you either get it or you don't and they leave it up to you to fill in the rest of the story with your head. (I totally just copied that off What I Do And Stuff)
There are a lot of contests around the country for 55 or less word fiction stories.. I bet you can get what they are about. You tell a story in under 55 words or exactly 55.. punctuation doesn't count, and it's recommended to say "doesn't" instead of "does not" so you have more word space.
I'm going to show you a few. Btw. These are also all legally mine since I wrote them, so do not in anyway attempt to take them from me.
The chandelier shattered. The couch was quickly disappearing through the red glow, and the smoke covered and burned the eyes of the innocent. The heat was unbearable and breathing became even more difficult as the oxegyn slipped out of the room. Not even a phoenix could have escaped such a fire.
Her heart used to skip a beat when she heard his name, she'd light up when she saw his face. His smell would captivate her with love (yuck.). Now she cringes at his voice, her stomach lurches at his face, and he smells like intoxicating poison. Heartbreak changed her stubborn mind.
Suddenly I see where my life was going, and what you did to me. The happy times were perfect and the sad times were hard. But when our love (yuck.) began to fade I saw just how much you cared and now I cry alone and you're not there to save me.
This next one is just my complaint about my friend that happens to be 54 words long, so I threw it in the mix.
What you take advantage of, I could only wish to have. You moan and groan, and I utterly loathe how you do so. The good fortune of which you have been granted you treat as though a burden or a curse. Ungrateful, you are, for which is why I take no pity on you.
Dear my love (yuck.),
I miss you uncontrollably. I fell asleep to the sound of your voice and woke up to your beautiful face. Now I can't stop thinking about your touch and you kiss and honestly I'm convinced I just might die if you don't come around soon.
If only you loved (past-tense yuck.) me too
I don't think you understand how it hurts me when you refuse to talk to me or when you giggle and mock me. If you could see this, then maybe you would stop to take a moment and look how you cause me pain anc check how you lied to me.
So the first two were ACTUALLY stories, the rest were just little things I'd done in class of almost stories. These next two are ones that are my favorite, the best in my opinion. The first one is actually my exact break-up with Luke, and I almost cried while writing it. A lot of what I do and say has to do with how he broke up with me, and the fact that he did. I found out we were breaking up three times that day. First over Facebook, second over the phone, and lastly in person. The first was douchey, the second was painful, and the third was painfully sweet. I wish we could have stuck to the third, and the first two didn't have to happen.
With tears streaming down her face, he hugged her, briefly pulling away for a quick kiss, sweet and sad with care and farewell. With one final look at her beautiful lover, their hands slipped away in opposite directions until their fingers barely touched.
A small squeeze, and she began walking away blurry eyed, whispering, “Goodbye.”
Sad, huh? =/ That was the sweetest of our breakups, and after we had talked it over a bit. We liked each other for about a month after that until he finally got over me and I don't have strong feelings for him anymore but I still have the deep connection with him that we will never lose since he was, afterall, my first love (yuck.). This next one isn't actually a true story, but it was my first one I'd ever written and I am LEGIT proud. (pre-yuck to the previous and following stories, because it takes away the mood if it just says "(yuck.)"
Gently, he took my hand as he kissed the moist, red surface of my bleeding forehead.
“I promise I never meant to,” he whispered, sounding increasingly distant.
“It’s not your fault, love, you didn’t know,” I softly replied, followed by the sound of a heart rate monitor’s final squeal.
He’d never handled a gun before.
