Very Very Short Stories

[Zemke Fan]

I know that this thread should REALLY be over in the Reading Room, but since no one goes there very often, I thought I'd start it here.

John Hughes was one of my favorite writer/directors and when he died of a heart attack a few months ago, a treasure trove of post-movie writing emerged. See: The Secret, Pseudonymous, Fiction-Writing After-Career of John Hughes

I was especially interested in Hughes' fascination with "very, very, short stories."

This got me to thinking... Why not write some of those myself?

Anyone else want to join the fun?

 

[Zemke Fan]

Generational Revelation

The revelation came to Jack Ford, chief lobbyist for the Low-Carb Power Food Foundation (formerly the American Pork Rind Producers Association), at his third House-side fundraiser that Wednesday evening. Even if everyone’s heads were covered with paper bags and their liver spots with leather gloves, he realized (through the buzz of his fourth cheap-as-bathwater gin martini) that it would be exceedingly easy to separate the members of his generation — the cranky old white guys — from the earnest young suck-ups simply by observing their cocktail party skills. His generation was adroit at juggling a fork, a six-inch Chinet® plate, and a filled-to-overflowing 12 ounce highball glass. The young, androgynous, Tom Ford wannabes, on the other hand, could pound down the booze while responding (at a minimum of 90 characters a minute) to email on the Blackberry’s superglued to their palms. Such new era dexterity — even more than curly-toed, square-cut Italian shoes and high-water trousers — really pissed him off.

 

[Undertow]

lol :eusa_clap

Fine idea. Good exercise in creativity. I'll see if I can set some time aside to throw one up there.

 

[Brad Bowers]

I came. I saw. I went home broke.

Brad

 

[Zemke Fan]

Hey, Brad...

Very, very short stories. Not very, very, VERY short stories!

 

[Talbot]

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

​

-Hemingway

 

[Dav]

Dav's sex life.

Dav wasn't getting any.

Originally written by Irvine Welsh but I substituted my own name as I couldn't remember the actual title.

 

[Undertow]

The Stain

With hesitation and deliberate care, Lola had sewn the pattern for her red and white polka dot dress just days before. So much pride, so much toil, lost. The stain seeped through the fabric like slow moving thunder heads of a darkening summer day. Her skin grew pale, her eyes glazed over and the blue in her irises clouded. The cotton stitching would never have time to rot.

 

[Yeps]

He leaned up against the door,
let out a long breath,
and slowly slid to the floor.

 

[LizzieMaine]

The cigarette dropped from his lips as he sunk to the floor.

She ground it underfoot.

 

[JimWagner]

It was a dark and stormy night. I knew I'd have to buy a new hat in the morning. But that's another story.

 

[LizzieMaine]

The hunter peered intently thru the brush, sighting his prey. He took careful aim. Concentrate, concentrate. His finger tightened around the trigger.

He never heard the bear, approaching from behind. He never would.

 

[Yeps]

The cigarette dropped from his lips as he sunk to the floor.

She ground it underfoot.

Was this meant to connect with mine, because it does work very nicely. I salute you.

He leaned up against the door,
let out a long breath,
and slowly slid to the floor.
The cigarette dropped from his lips as he sunk to the floor.
She ground it underfoot.

 

[LizzieMaine]

It's even rather poetic, in fact.

 

[Story]

The cigarette dropped from his lips as he sunk to the floor.

She ground it underfoot.

That's hawt*.

*(Sotto voce Paris Hilton)

 

[W4ASZ]

Why I won't do this ...

Richard Brautigan, "The Scarlatti Tilt" :

"It's very hard to live in a studio apartment in San Jose with a man who's learning to play the violin." That's what she told the police when she handed them the empty revolver.

(from Revenge of the Lawn: Stories 1962-1970)

 

[Talbot]

One look at the dame and I knew.

She was like the $2 blue plate special at Jefty's.

Strictly poison under the gravy.

 

[Milu]

Her mistress was addicted to reading American magazines and in particular to the local paper from a small town. Sometimes she would take cuttings from this paper and paste them in a book that she kept in the safe with her jewellery. The mistress was often depressed after this ritual and would sit in silence, caressing her little crippled cat. On one occasion she found her huddled on the floor crying and for once she was able to see the cutting. The maid understood enough English to get the gist of the article, she put an arm around her mistress and accompanied her to the bedroom, once she had settled her the maid finished pasting the article in the scrapbook .

 

[JimWagner]

After the engines cut out the only sound in the cabin was the wind screaming by. Then the plane hit the

 

[Undertow]

After the engines cut out the only sound in the cabin was the wind screaming by. Then the plane hit the

lol