Doctor Pheellups resigned.
THREE-WORD STORY: Doctor/Patient Confidentiality
Doctor Pheellups resigned.
Category Archives: Stories
FIVE-WORD STORY: Arranged
New world record: fetuses marry.
TEN-WORD STORY: The Boy Who Cried Armageddon
“The sky is falling!” No one believed me. Their funerals.
Write By Numbers
One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four twenty-five twenty-six twenty-seven twenty-eight twenty-nine thirty thirty-one thirty-two thirty-three thirty-four thirty-five thirty-six thirty-seven thirty-eight thirty-nine forty forty-one forty-two forty-three forty-four forty-five forty-six forty-seven forty-eight forty-nine fifty.
Impeccable Timing
She crept from alcove to alcove, timing her movements against the motion of the cameras. Down the hallway, around the corner…
“Stop!” someone yelled. “Cut! Do it again! Honey, baby, we’re makin’ a movie here. The cameras have to see ya! Yeesh, whose idea was it to hire an ex-spy?”
SYLVAIN SCHMIDT: Party Trick
“Here’s a neat trick,” he said.
He opened his mouth, real wide. He inserted his hand, then his arm, down his throat. His shoulder dislocated to go farther down. He stopped. Then his arm came back up, and he pulled himself inside out.
“What do you think?”
“You’re still ugly.”
This Guest Writer story was written by Sylvain Schmidt, who has written many more fifty-word stories in the Writer’s Block board on the Penny-Arcade.com forums.
GREG STEPNIEWSKI: The Daily Promise
He does it every day. He comes back home from wherever he was and promises himself that he’ll stop wasting time. He promises himself he’ll be productive and do something useful.
Then he sits down on the couch, watches TV, and eats snacks until he falls asleep. Just like me.
This Guest Writer story was written by Greg Stepniewski, a Computer Science student from Poland. As per the author’s wishes, this story is available under a Creative Commons Attribution license, and may be used for commercial purposes.
Fail Count
“Nerd!” said Mitchell.
“Am not!” retorted Greg.
“You’re sitting in your parents’ basement playing with a computer. Face it, you’re hoopy.”
“Shut up!” Greg screamed. He grabbed a floppy disk and winged it at Mitchell’s head.
Mitchell ducked. The disk shattered on the wall.
Greg sighed. “Today’s fail count: four.”
Editor’s Note: This story was based on a call on Twitter for a noun, an adjective, and a verb. @MasterGunner314 responded with floppy disk, hoopy, and fail.
Philosnowphy
Winter. Thick snowflakes were making an exodus from the wombs of the clouds.
“Existence is suffering, but I believe our essence lives on and ascends to the Cloud Mother to be reborn,” said Seth Snowflake. “Life is a cycle.”
“That’s stupid,” said Sam Snowflake. “Life sucks, and then you melt.”
Priorities in a Time of Global Crisis
Kim groaned and awoke.
It was early morning, but unusually bright and hot.
Kim slipped into her bathrobe, flung open the blinds, and screamed.
A dying red sun filled the sky. Earth’s orbit was rapidly, dangerously contracting.
Kim shrieked and hammered on her speed-dial. “Tan-Hut!? I need a pre-tan NOW!”