The rearview mirror held a terrifying apparition:
An entire herd of rampaging bovine destroyers trailed behind us, rage and hunger dancing in their eyes.
“Don’t stop! Stomp on the gas!” I shouted, but Georgia wordlessly pointed at the fuel gauge.
The cows advanced, and we were all out of grapefruit…
He could lift a truck off the ground with nothing but two fingers and a crane.
He could fly short distances by kicking his legs and holding his breath.
He could breathe through his nose and his mouth at the same time.
He was my best friend, and I hated him.
Two glowing eyes peered at me from the shadows: wolves.
I blinked, and there were four eyes. Then six. Then ten.
Then… Thirteen?
I did a quick recount. Thirteen? That didn’t make sense. Had one lost an eye in a fight?
Ah, it had just been winking. I winked back.
“…humans gained ultraviolet vision, but found that its effect when combined with ordinary sight was disorienting. Hence the initiative to recolour our everyday surroundings to a sufficiently distinct hue….”
Dave hurriedly threw the lever, and the Twenty-First Century reasserted itself around him.
“It’s true, Jimmy! The future really is orange!”
This story won the Mere 50 Words contest, with a $50 prize. Congratulations!
“I’m sorry, sir, we’ll simply have to assign you an entirely new model.”
The Hardware Maintenance Commission representative smiled sympathetically, leafing through his papers.
“I know this procedure can be painful, but unfortunately your current version is no longer the standard.”
I sighed, lifting my son out of his stroller.
This story earned the First Runner Up, with a $25 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
“You find me attractive?” the mermaid asked the derelict sailor.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Don’t you agree?”
She frowned. “No merman did.”
It seemed impossible. “Why?” he asked.
“My figure,” she said. “I’m not streamlined.”
“Is that why humans only ever see mermaids with curvaceous figures?”
“We go where we’re appreciated.”
This story earned an Honourable Mention, with a $10 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
They weren’t there before I slept last night. I would have noticed for sure. The dusty shapes stood out in stark contrast on the otherwise pristine surface. Size 9 at a guess. Two sizes larger than my own. Two clearly defined footprints.
Why the hell were they on my ceiling?
This story earned an Honourable Mention, with a $10 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
When Grace asked me out I was already in the limousine pouring gin, feeling her fingers on my cheek. That blood-red dress—like she was poured into it and some splashed on my skin.
Later I saw her kissing Alex. People said she played games. I thought it was love.
This story earned an Honourable Mention, with a $10 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
When you’re in love, everything looks like a butterfly.
That was Barry’s experience, at least. He’d just met The One: she was beautiful and smart, and she had an amazing voice.
Unfortunately, Barry discovered, not everything was a butterfly, and blue jays like him can’t digest candy wrappers very well.
The helicopter buzzed over the city like a truck-sized mosquito.
“I can see my house!” cried little Jeremy.
“You’ll never see it again if your parents don’t pay up,” grunted one of the masked men.
“You want money?” said Jeremy. He gave them his allowance, and they let him go.