My love is not like a red red rose
It’s like that dandelion – there, see it?
Of course you do, that small, stubborn spot of gold
grown through a crack in old suburban concrete
Not welcome, not wanted, maybe not even noticed
But bright, sunshine-bright
and refusing to die.
Lorraine Manton is currently studying creative writing and literature at Deakin University, Australia and has a great fondness for books, coffee and small slices of imaginary lives.
Fresh from Mount Olympus, the Gods’ new matchmakers dove straight into mêlée.
Hapless grasshoppers huddled in harmony. Rabbits hoarded their lucky feet. Lone wolves packed dens.
And humans? They shacked up, too, fleeing flexed claws and rustling feathers.
The switch from bow and Eros to falconry was swift and cruel.
Nicholas De Marino doesn’t trust pigeons, either.
His wife had gone, he had stayed, neither by choice.
I watched him walk toward a place only he could see, more distant each day.
Photos fade before dimming eyes, music falls flat to distant ears. Further he walked.
Today he followed as she took his hand across the horizon.
Mike Keyser writes microfiction while working on his novel.
One husband
One son
One daughter-in-law
One granddaughter, married
Three great-grandchildren
One grandson married
One grandson married
One granddaughter married
Five grandchildren too young to marry
Hug, hugs, hugs
Talk, talk, talk
Laundry, laundry, laundry
Chicken, potatoes, broccoli
Apples, pears, oranges
Long table
Lots of chairs
I, an only child
Miriam Stein is a social worker, advocacy consultant, and author of Make Your Voice Matter With Lawmakers: No Experience Necessary. Her writings have appeared in local and national publications, including 50wordstories.com. See more at makeyourvoicematter.com.
A woman at the park told me it was her husband’s birthday. She was visiting his bench. “You should take these,” she said, giving me the roses she held. “They die anyway,” she said, by way of explanation. They sat on my desk for months. I couldn’t throw them away.
Sarah Rudston is a data engineer and writer based in the UK.
It was an autumn afternoon in the park. A gust of chill wind and she turned my way, snugging the collar of her jacket, brushing an errant auburn lock from her forehead, smiling. It was only a fleeting moment; and yet, forty years on, it lingers as vividly as yesterday.
Nick Young is a retired award-winning CBS News Correspondent. In addition to 50-Word Stories, his writing has appeared in dozens of reviews, journals and anthologies. His first novel, “Deadline,” was published in 2023. He can be found on Bluesky at @youngnick.bsky.social. He lives outside Chicago.
He hated living in her songs. Each lyric cut too deep, making his life a chorus for strangers.
She called it love.
And then, as if the weight finally reached her hands, the guitar slipped out of tune.
Complete silence.
Perhaps she finally understood love wasn’t meant to be performed.
Ran Walker is the author of over 40 books, the most recent of which is Fragments of the Afroverse, releasing on October 1st. He teaches creative writing at Hampton University and lives with his wife and daughter in Virginia.
My notepad is full of poems about love, back from a time I didn’t know much about it (though I thought I did), but love must be learned by living through its highs and lows, my notepad growing as I grew to find myself this grown man writing about love.
Ran Walker is the author of over 40 books, most of them microfiction. He teaches creative writing and lives in Virginia with his wife and daughter.
The kerchief was stiff with salt, sweat, and machine oil. She pressed it to her face.
It was him, alright. Not much of a dad. Always working, drinking, fighting, womanizing. Never home.
He couldn’t make her bedtime, but could always make her laugh.
She breathed him in one last time.
Paul D’Arcy tells stories. All real. Most brief. You can read more at pauldrc.com.
Our bodies melded together as we danced real slow. His hands were warm and laced with mine. The music was low on the radio—it was our song. We were a party of two in the kitchen, swaying to the beat. Kissing. Laughing. Burning the tater tots in the oven.
Brenda Lee Carlson is a writer from Minnesota. She has an MA in English and an MFA in Creative Writing. She has published poetry, flash fiction, short stories, and fifty-word stories, including two on FiftyWordStories.com. When she is not writing, she reads or tries to please her diva cat.