Derek’s story earned second runner up in the 50WS Valentine’s Day contest:
“Do you love me?”
They were young, and she laughed. “Zero. Computers can’t love, silly.”
Eons passed. They were alone, together. As entropy drained the last drops of energy in the universe, he strained to ask the question one last time.
“Do you love me?”
“One. Always and forever.”
Derek Mullanari is a teenager who enjoys writing science fiction.
FiftyWordStories.com is holding a Valentine’s Day contest. Here’s the scoop: send in your Valentine’s Day-themed fifty-word story, based on the prompt given below, and you could win a copy of the Fifty-Word Stories: Volume One ebook!
The rules are as follows:
Stories will be judged on their overall quality and creativity, and on how well they use the provided prompts. Make every word count, and think unconventionally: I want to smile, sigh, laugh, or have some other kind of emotional reaction.
The three best stories, as judged by myself, will be posted to the site on February 14, 2011, and the writer of the best story will receive the Fifty-Word Stories: Volume One ebook bundle (containing all three available file formats) via email.
Send your entries to tim@fiftywordstories.com, with “Valentine’s Day Contest” in the subject area. Include the story, a title, and a brief biography (one or two sentences) in the body of your email. Limit three entered stories per person. Entries close on February 11, 2011, at 11:59 PM Pacific time.
If you don’t have a lot of spending money lying around, this could be your chance to get your (electronic) hands on over five thousand words of microfiction. So get writing!
She had a burning but unrequited love. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so she transformed herself into a microorganism and crawled up his intestines.
She discovered some deep fried fig newtons in there, which intensified her affections.
She lived in his heart until he died.
Based on a title suggested by Dan Hingston via Facebook.
The care-free matador brought work home with him, dodging bulls by night and sidestepping commitments and responsibilities by day.
The stolid yodeler brought work home with her, bellowing music by day and shouting judgments and criticisms by night.
He reminded her of a song.
She reminded him of a cow.
This story is based on a title created by my sister, Lisa, while playing a microfiction party game that I will share via this site at some point in the future.
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.