Fifty-word stories, you say?
I wrote two:
one imaginary, one true;
one momentary, one eternal —
thoughts growing from language kernel.
For a second’s worth a thousand words,
a word a thousand seconds.
A fiction hides a thousand truths,
a truth a thousand fictions.
Word and truth aren’t reckoned by restrictions.
Angela Brett wrote this poem for her blog at angelastic.com as a way to announce her previous two stories published on 50WS.
The train station convenience store cashier in the Austrian podunk where I’m homeless spices things up with foreign phrases. He might greet a customer with “Bonjour” or “Master Commander.”
As he hands me my change, I whisper, “Danke.”
He replies, “You are welcome,” and I fantasise that I finally am.
Angela Brett is a mathematician and linguist by training, programmer by trade, and writer by neglecting everything else. She is a New Zealander living in Austria and writing at angelastic.com
I still know I was mortal once.
I don’t remember what I did to deserve this. Something terrible? Something good? A wish? A curse? Anything that goes on long enough becomes torture. Any certainty clung to for eternity eventually slips away… Or does it?
I think I was mortal once.
Angela Brett is a mathematician and linguist by training, programmer by trade, and writer by neglecting everything else. She writes at angelastic.com