An apple and a pear fell in love.
They knew it was unusual, but they wanted to make it work, and the wise old hummingbird knew how they could.
They scattered their seeds all around the orchard, and when the trees grew they grafted branches onto one another and lived forever.
You tell me that I’ve changed,
My priorities rearranged.
Did you ever really know me
At all?
It’s been a long time
Since you swept me off my feet.
But I won’t admit defeat.
I have faith enough for both of us.
That’s the one thing that’s never changed
At all.
J Dianne Waye found a link to Fifty-Word Stories on Kelley Armstrong’s writing forum. She isn’t the first to submit a story because of that link, and hopefully she won’t be the last!
Kevin’s unfocused eyes were cast upwards, drifting lazily with the clouds. Half a smile played across his face.
The other half sat on a porch swing in her parents’ back yard, but it was hiding behind a coating of chocolate ice cream and actually had nothing to do with Kevin.
This story was based on the title suggested by @davefp.
I see you smile at the gift he sent you.
It’s dead, you know.
Smile, as you care tenderly for it. All the care you lavish on his tribute won’t make it last. Won’t stop the smooth, slippery red from drying to a lusterless, coppery brown. Smile for your rose.
Katie is a young woman in college.
He told her, “I need you like I need a slap in the face.”
She gasped and slapped him.
“Thank you,” he said, wincing slightly. “I did something weird to my jaw the other day and I think you knocked it back into place.”
Theirs was an atypical love affair.
“What is she like?”
“Like hearing your favorite song play with just a slight hiss from the vinyl.”
Blank stare.
“Like a robin sweetly singing just for you.”
Furrowed brow.
“Like the smell of sunshine.”
Bewildered eyes.
“So what does that make her?”
“She’s an indescribable experience you never forget.”
Lawrence Fawkes hails from Southern California and aspires to become some sort of professional writer in journalism, fiction, or another field.
A squire found a talking frog.
“Kiss me and I’ll become a beautiful princess and be your wife.”
The squire did so and the frog transformed into a princess, just as promised. The pair went into town to wed. The ceremony was interrupted when they kissed and she changed back.
This is the second in a week-long series from King Kool.
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.
He flourished like a magician, his red cape brilliantly catching the light.
She looked up, and he thought he saw the briefest of smiles before she hid again behind her coloured fan.
His heart swelled, his soul soared, and his lungs collapsed under the hooves of the unusually aggressive bull.