Short Sentence Stories

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  1. #1

    Short Sentence Stories

    The rules are simple: Write a story, as short or long as you please. Make it good, but use only sentences six words or less. Go!

    The barn was dark and quiet. I pushed the door open. Inside, dark sucked out all sound. Quietness bled into my orifices.

    Flapping of wings disturbed my slumber.

    It's not easy to write this way.
    It all starts with a name and flows from there. A ridiculous moniker springs to mind and it launches like a multi-lubed slippery-sloop down chutes made of buttery-floops. Down, down, down. We watch, spellbound. Rapturous. Glockenspiel. We do our due diligence with penitence and penicillin. Do what’s due, then dew drops on your moon-pops.


  2. #2
    Aleg found his calling. Making hats out of leftover pants.

    His throat was constricted. Sometimes, he choked on feigned secrecy. The populace barked at him.

    Whether sincerity, generous banality, matters not. There is nothing quite like endurance.

    Aleg took his kerchief, keystered it. Found his calling amongst the unwashed.

    Short sentences are weird.
    It all starts with a name and flows from there. A ridiculous moniker springs to mind and it launches like a multi-lubed slippery-sloop down chutes made of buttery-floops. Down, down, down. We watch, spellbound. Rapturous. Glockenspiel. We do our due diligence with penitence and penicillin. Do what’s due, then dew drops on your moon-pops.


  3. #3
    WF Veteran Gavrushka's Avatar
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    Eric felt relieved. Finally she'd stopped following him. The police were involved though now. Damned interfering lawmakers!

    Had he been harsh? She followed. He reacted. She died, her head crushed. Seemed reasonable at the time.

    He'd best move on now. He should be safe. Evidence well disposed of.

    And mighty tasty she was too!
    Last edited by Gavrushka; February 12th, 2014 at 09:40 PM.
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  4. #4
    "Go ahead," she says. "See if I care."

    "I'll do it! Don't make me!" I have my wedding off. I rear back to throw it. "Does this mean nothing to you?"

    She shakes her head. "Cheating bastard," she growls. "You don't deserve me. Throw it. Throw our love away. You already did it once. What's one more time?"

    Try as I might, I just can't. It's tiny, silver, hollow. Yet, there's a weight to it. There's the vows we said. There's the nights we shared. There's the good times and bad. And while it was rough...

    "Make me," I say, pocketing it. "Make me throw our love away."

    She reaches for my pocket. I block her with my hand. She's strong, but I'm stronger. I've got more reason to fight. Love always conquers hate. It's inevitable. She even bites me. I'm not surprised. I kind of had it coming. I came to this strip club. I was bored with our intimacy. Now I realize, it's OUR fault. I can't blame her. When did I ever ask her? We should have talked. Strip clubs aren't the answer. These are desperate places, desperate people. They've lost hope. I can't believe I lost hope. How could I? Look what I have. Look what I fight for.

    "No!" I shout. "It's not ending like this. I made a mistake, yes. I'll admit to it. I never should have come here. I mean, look at this place!" The whole crowd is watching us. "No offense, of course. It's just--it's just--I'm lost!" I throw up my hands. "WE are lost. I came here looking for myself. I should've been looking for you. I should've been talking to you."

    I pull out the ring. This is a real gambit now. "If one mistake is enough..." I hand it to her. "Do what you will."

    Her jaw is locked. Her hand clenches around the ring. Her tongue moves behind her teeth. No words come out. She snarls. "Damn it, Chester!" she spits. "Damn you to hell!" She puts the ring away. "Why wouldn't you talk to me? Why wouldn't you ask me? I would have told you. I would have said something. You think I'm satisfied? When's the last time we--we--." She can't say it, even here. These are strippers, for Christ's sake.

    "WE HAD SEX?" I shout. "I don't know, maybe six months?" Someone gasps. "Seriously, Hilda, why is that? Are you still attracted to me?"

    She glares. "I could ask you that myself?" She straightens her shirt. She absent-mindedly plays with her curls. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

    I nod. "Of course I do. I always have. Why would you think anything else?"

    "Wouldn't hurt to say it." She sets her hips. "And yeah, you're not bad." She smiles. "Listen mister: no more of this." She pulls the ring out. "And you'll have to earn this!" She holds it up. "I'll keep it safe with me."

    "Fair enough." I take her hand in mine. "Shall we?"

    For good measure, she looks around. She finds a younger girl. "Where's your mother, dear?"

    The girl balks.

    "One soul at a time, dear." I pat her hand. "Mine first."

  5. #5
    Once upon a time the end. In all of its thankless glory.


    (Does it count if sentences incomplete?)
    I don't write stories, I lick them out of the ice and let them find their own way.Hidden Content
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  6. #6
    Member siliconpoetry's Avatar
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    The crowd was awry with laughter. The speaker wiped his forehead. There wasn't much to do now. He let them learn from doing. In this case, using his words. He could only hear happenstance. He had tried making his point. Unfortunately, his attempts were in vain. There were five-hundred in the audience. There was only one of him. It was his folly to shout. Five minutes later there was silence. He gathered the courage to speak. The orator was ready to postulate. He said "Why so enthused?". The crowd rumbled yet again. This time he couldn't help himself. He started to laugh too.

  7. #7
    The moon gleams bright.
    A cat stares at it, enraptured. He is like the night. A starless black.
    The moon is full. Still, it is only a sliver. Only a sliver of the sunlight. The cat wants to touch it. He wants to follow it. So, he traverses into the darkness.
    The buildings rise up around him. Some of the windows glow yellow. Others are dark.
    The night is still and silent. Frozen slush fills the alleys. Words and pictures cover the buildings. The cat understands none of them. He is enthralled anyways.
    The alleys open into a road. Past its corner is a park. The park is old.
    The swings begin to creak. Wind shakes the clouds. They scatter into stars and snow.
    The cat ventures into the park. A hill rises before him. He begins to climb.
    He passes a broken bench. An old women sits there. She holds a black umbrella. She is still but not asleep.
    He reaches the hilltop. He now sees the moon again. Full, in a cloudless night. The snowflakes cling to his fur. He looks like a starry sky. His eyes are full of moon.
    He stays there all night. Waiting for the dawn.

  8. #8
    I can still remember those eyes.

  9. #9
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    His feet exploded as he landed.

  10. #10
    He awoke in a stupor. His head ached and throbbed. Where am I?

    The street stood dark and threatening. He assessed the damage. A missing watch. Crushed in the gutter, his hat. Pockets? Empty.

    No, not today...not now! Chloral's a bitch. She had been too.

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