A 55-Word Story Contest, Sort Of.
7.30.2003 by , every Tuesday.
So, last week's column seemed to make at least a few people happy. Also, I got two great 55-word replies from people. And seeing as I'm in the process of moving and so haven't written anything, I thought I'd ask for more 55-word stories.
So, here's the deal: send me your 55-word stories. Length is the only restriction. It's a contest, except that everybody who submits something gets to be in the next column, so everybody wins and it's the best kind of contest ever! Wee!
(Handy Tip: use the comments form at the bottom of this page to send me your stories. Easy 'n' fun.)
And, of course, if nobody sends me stories, there'll be an update next week and only a little sobbing. And now, to get you started, here are some great ones by the illustrious Snowmit:
When I went to visit Enron the Elder, he was repairing one of the dragonfly robots.
"She does not love you," he told me, "She does not love anyone at all. She has decided to travel to the Thirteenth Cave and undergo the trials. You won't see her again."
Crippled, the robot twitched uselessly.
"You never come home for dinner."
"Look, work is really busy."
A spacious three bedroom semi-detached townhouse with a patio in the backyard and an open concept kitchen. Two cars in the garage and a new flatscreen TV. Full dental, full medical and full accidental. A carefully manicured front lawn.
Paid for with love.
And just in case you're feeling too intimidated, here's a very lame poem I wrote in grade five.
Lady Tree removes white frock,
And forth green jade leaf jewels come;
Flowers strewn from fairies' pockets
Sway softly in the breeze and sun
And, from hidden grove and dell,
Slipping softly through the weed,
Between lilac and pimpernel
Comes Spring on winged steed.
And with her golden goblet spills
Climbing plants up wall and door;
Upon blossoming branch a songbird trills
And calls for Spring to spill some more.
Oh man. I was such a dorkwad.