James approached the plate nervously. The pitcher was dripping in the heat.
Previous attempts had excited the audience, but they were foul.
Four pitchers and ten full Counts later, James was crowned grand champion. He just barely made it home safe from the Royal Count’s Eating Contest before throwing up.
Charlie Dunn is a college student studying abroad in Japan. He wrote this story during his daily commute. (Ed. That’s the beauty of microfiction, eh?)
“Gennardy Tranctorblade, Julioust Dunyarctle, Crandulon Unctiferal, Yip Yip Doodle Tok, Fkaisl Ipsidav, Hourly Ablutions, Wreltstle Jujjax, and Michael.
“You have all been found guilty of Second-Degree Hookie (The Playing Thereof), and will be sentenced to mandatory summer school.
“Except Crandulon Unctiferal. He, like all repeat offenders, gets the firing squad.”
“Have you been to the moon?”
“Nope.”
“Have you been to the International Space Station?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Have you been to the Hubble telescope?”
“No! What do you think I am, some kind of astronaut?”
“Well your résumé says…”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’ve been to all three of those.”
“Life is like pizza,” Giovanni once told me. “You can cover it with different toppings, but the core ingredients are the same. And no matter how you prepare it, some people enjoy eating it more than others.”
I thought he was so wise. Then I learned he was a cannibal.
Young Princess Emeldatine sat in her tower, surveying the kingdom she would one day inherit. “When I’m Queen, I’ll make every day my birthday!” she declared.
Nurse chuckled. “You’d get old pretty quickly!”
“I’ll also have a pet dragon,” said Emeldatine. “Like the moldy one at the window!”
Nurse fainted.
“If a tree falls in the jungle,” said my captor, “no one can hear you scream.”
I slowly loosened my bonds. “I think you’re misquoting that.”
He snorted, hacking at the tree with his axe.
He was right. I fled as the tree crushed him, and I heard no screams.
The igloos were melting.
On the one hand, the warmer temperatures meant there would be more people around. On the other hand, it meant they’d soon be staying in tents. Tents were easier to break into, Percival the Polar Bear knew, but he found that igloos kept the humans fresher.
“May I buy a cup of tea, please?” he pleads.
She sees him and smiles. This seems to frighten him, so she leaves, returning quickly with a hot cup of tea and a croissant.
“May God bless you, child,” he whispers. He sips the tea delicately, tears in his eyes.
The Invisible Man was written by Honest, who loves to create, mostly with words, and hopes to inspire and be inspired. You can follow Honest on Twitter at http://twitter.com/Honestlyspeakin.
This story was based on a call on Twitter for the first five words of a story. @Scithancer provided the words, “While strolling through the forest”.
While strolling through the forest, he saw a spaceship land. The aliens, in shining suits, approached and shook his hand.
They asked him many questions
to test where mankind stood
but since he was a lawyer the outcome was not good.
Despairing, they departed, and left him in the wood.
Martha said, “Listen well, Little Tommy. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my many years, it’s that you’ve got to have self control.”
Tommy folded his chubby little arms. “You’re not the boss of me!”
“Listen to your grandmother,” said Martha, wagging her seven-year-old finger. “And to me, too.”