Words terrify me. Their power and immediacy. Will you marry me? Changing everything. Just an articulation of speech. I do. Words transforming worlds. Like a head on collision. It’s a girl. Easier than falling from a great height. I don’t love you anymore.
So I just say nothing these days.
Shark Trager struggles with finishing his works of artistic frivolity so has taken to writing microfiction because not finishing a 50-word story is less reckless.
Hector heard God, when least expected but most needed, the unmistakable voice dripping intravenously into his brainspace, booming, “Stop! Don’t end your life!”
Hector stepped back, flabbergasted, dizzy with adrenaline and rapturous bafflement as the unexpected unbalancing cocked him over the edge of CityPoint. He fell: weeping, laughing, screaming, praying.
Shark Trager lives in North London and has been writing and blogging 50-word stories erratically for five years. He is a novelist in progress as well as a jobbing copywriter and ghostwriter.
I didn’t believe in time travel until I met myself one rainy Tuesday. Back from a world unknown to me.
Despite the shock, we drank tea and laughed about our mother. For a few moments I was happy with myself.
Until I told me not to look forward to much.
Shark Trager lives in North London and has been writing and blogging 50 Word Stories erratically for five years. He is a novelist in progress as well as a jobbing copywriter and ghostwriter.