This exercise is known as Flash Fiction.
The object is to tell the minimum viable story when given exactly 55 words to work with.
It's a great practice for choosing words carefully and a break from longer replies when needed.
These stories follow some adventures of Nik here over the past few years,
hopefully they're amusing enough.
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Cecil
Stupid bird.
I told you to behave. Look us now,
Running through the streets like two wild animals fleeing from being hunted.
Your wings keep up with ease,
while my sneakers fall flat to a set of loose laces.
It’s all because of you.
All because your grimy beak took one Dorito that wasn’t yours.
You’re Hired, Kid.
Come in! The sign said.
Didn’t know what I was looking for.
The shop owner spoke but was looking straight through me.
The cut stung and the record's ridges pooled with murky crimson.
“Welcome,” she said half as eagerly as the music shop door.
I came in for some tunes and left with far more.
[In the Location of Paradox]
Don’t Wake Sleeping Vampires
Surprise surprise, it was my fault.
The slip of a tongue and I was put face to face with snarling fangs and unhappy faces.
‘Good morning,’ I thought. Never was much of a sprinter, and it showed.
There was a crack of bones, a howl and a scream, a short walk, and-
...A drink? Alright.
[Plotline w/ Apollo]
Cold Ravioli
She’s cool... I’m not.
If I were, we’d both be home.
Not in this creaking annex filled with spiders and godly bullshit,
eating cold ravioli, Listening to wind through the roof,
and the crummy sermon from down below. Fast forward.
Somehow, just somehow, I’m waiting for her to call.
One-star meal, ten-star night.
[Plotline w/ Neseva]
Sorry Mrs. Washington
My bad.
I say that a lot lately. Right now it’s warranted.
One collision and we’re stuck in this place,
Fighting laundromat demons and sprinting through pouring rain.
Sorry, really. Not for the night, but the morning,
When your mother was screaming at the stranger sleeping on your floor.
But hey... it’s one helluva story.
[Plotline w/ Josh]
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