“Hello, nurse.”
“Good morning!”
“What’s on the menu today?”
“Appendix removal with side salad is on special, and Doctor Jones is whipping up his homemade double bypass.”
“Sounds wonderful, but I’m on a budget today. I’ll take a half-order of hip replacement, please.”
“Certainly. Don’t forget to tip your orderly!”
This story is based on a title suggested by @Invariel.
“They’re at it again.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Go out there and stop them. It’s bad enough they trespass onto our property. Now they’re starting to steal from us. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Honey, calm down, they’re just squirrels.”
Wendy Schmidt is a Wisconsin native who has written short stories and poems for the last 10 years. Her poetry and short stories have been published in Strange, Weird and Wonderful, Daily Love, Three Line Poetry, Tainted Tea, Fear and Trembling, and Midwest Literary Magazine.
Their sheds and bunkers were overloaded with guns, ammo, rations, reactors, and even entertainment, everything they thought they needed. For five years they had readied themselves for the invaders’ arrival.
The one thing they hadn’t counted on was the aliens’ overwhelming cuteness.
Psychologically incapable of fighting back, they were overrun.
This story is based on a title suggested by David Paye.
When we finally summited Mount Kilimanjaro, the last thing we expected to see was a withered old man in an all-terrain wheelchair, surrounded by ten burly sherpas.
He looked at us with pale, watery eyes and said, “Remember, friends: money can buy you neither happiness nor salvation.”
Then he smiled.
This story is based on a title suggested by Jeremy Quinn.
“I have a hard time making good decisions.”
“Yeah?”
“I always seem to pick the greater of two evils. Like yesterday I skipped my final exam to compete in a hot dog-eating contest.”
“I think I see your problem.”
“Really? What?”
“You consider writing an exam to be an ‘evil’…”
This story is based on a title suggested by Nathan Barber.
He stood amid chaos, tumult, and noise, hearing nothing.
A voice passed through his mind. “Speak your wish, and your hearing can be restored to you.”
He looked around him, at the lights, movement, and stone-eyed faces. “Do not restore my hearing,” he said. “Please take my sight, as well.”
This story is based on a title suggested by @PanzerVaughn.
Herb barely beat the deadline. The completed report was faxed at exactly 11:59. When the fax machine displayed “successfully sent,” he took a deep breath and smiled for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed the sign taped to the front of the fax machine: PLACE FACE UP.
Bruce Harris is the author of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson: ABout Type, published by The Battered Silicon Dispatch Box.
Every morning, as the sun comes up, the stars awaken.
Stars are not nocturnal, as many assume. They actually sleep all night and dance during the day, when their predators, the owls, can’t see them.
So when you see a shooting star, remember: a hungry owl is chasing after it.
This story is based on a title suggested by @facelesscog.
“So…”
“I messed up.”
“I know you did.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“What do you mean, ‘probably’?”
“I just haven’t decided yet, I guess.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
“Here’s an idea: fix things first, then ask again afterwards.”
Tough
Love
Christmas
Can you see the word picture?
This story was based on the prompt “messed up” on TypeTrigger.
Some kids always had to be told to “stay inside the lines.” Not Nancy: she had never liked colouring in the corners.
Her parents and her teachers said, “Don’t just paint the middles. You’re missing all the parts near the edges!”
“But really,” Nancy protested, “what’s so great about edges?”
This story was based on the prompt “in the corners” at TypeTrigger.