It's time again for 55 Fiction Friday!
Quick explanation: 55 fiction is a very, very short story of exactly 55 words. It needs to have a character, conflict and resolution.
The Wikipedia article on 55 Fiction is here and some great examples are here..
If you'd like to play along, I tell you how at the end of this post.
Here's my 55 for this week:
Limit
Fifty-five, fifty-five. It rang in her head. Why was it so hard? It seemed simple enough. It was simple, right? Fifty-five, fifty-five. No more, no less. Just fifty-five. She pounded her fists in frustration and with an irritated yet resigned sigh turned to look at him.
“Ma’am? Do you know how fast you were going?”
MrWurdi's 55
Knock, Knock! Who's There?
Here's to you, church door knocker.
That's right, you took the time to attend classes about our Lord Savior and now you're spreading the word.
You learned how to knock like a cop with a warrant - demanding attention to your passive message of love.
Pamphlet delivered, name checked off. Next!
It's all about the love.
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Come play! Add your story to the comments or put it on your blog and I'll link to it. It's fun. You'll like it.
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12 comments:
The Twist
Mrs. Wurdi began reading his story. She knew his style and was prepared for the twist at the end.
Sifting through this double entendre, she awaited the witty climax in hopes it would bring a smile or chuckle.
As she reached the final paragraph, she gasped; for at the bottom it simply said:
The End
Sgt, even when I know you're trying to surprise me, you surprise me. Thanks for the 55!
It was my pleasure. I look forward to it each Friday (hoping something comes along during the rest of the week to give me material).
One day, I'm going to rock out on the 55, especially since Wordpress installed a new Word Count feature to help out when posting. Maybe next Friday. I'm all out of inspiration, today.
I'll look forward to it, Lydia. I love your writing style.
OhmyGod.....not that I don't love yours wordibitch, but Mr. Wordi has my vote this week. I can just feel it!
:)
the worm eater!
“Left, Right, Left, Right”, all we ever do is walk around in single file. Jeez, it’s hot! Can’t wait for that union break. Cary this here, carry this there. It really is too bad that everyone knows our true carrying capacity. Oh Gosh! There goes a straggler! Wait! Don’t go there! Squish…there’s another dead ant.
I agree with you, CaveBtch aka WormEater. I loved his this week. Where's yours?
Awesome, Katia! I always wondered what the other ants thought when one of their rank starting slacking off or wandering.
Ship
The night was dark and stormy. The Tempest was being tossed and turned by its namesake; the Captain felt ill in his cabin. . He strode onto the quarter deck from the dark recesses of his cabin. “Pull in that halyard, Mr. Christian. “ With that the ship turned and sailed calmly, he felt better.
Thanks for writing with us, Dag! I look forward to seeing what you do this week.
I have already written this weeks.
Jonas slumped silently in the kitchen chair; a glazed stare blurred the clock on the microwave. His nearly empty beer bottle dangled precariously from his fingers as he pondered the burning steak on the grill outside. Lyle Lovett sang about Ensenada in the background. Nothing mattered anymore, she was gone and he was alone.
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