Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

Short Sentence Stories (1 Viewer)

Pluralized

Black Dracula
WF Veterans
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.
 

Pluralized

Black Dracula
WF Veterans
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.
 

Gavrushka

WF Veterans
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:

thepancreas11

New Writers' Mentor
Senior Member
"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."
 

siliconpoetry

Senior Member
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
I go where you go. Like an embrace, but not warm. I follow you. You can't restrain me. I am part of you. Your lungs fill with tears. Anger got you in a chokehold. Eyes burn views to the ground. My arms are around you. I experience it all. And yet, I don't.
Am I your shadow? Are you your own?
 

Wannabewriter

Senior Member
I wasn't interested. She didn't care anyway. We'd tried before. It never worked. Then something happened. A fatal accident. Her father dead. I rang her. No answer. Tried again. Still nothing. Sent a message. "I love you". Three ticks. She'd seen it. Rang once more. She picked up. "I need you". I went to her. We reunited. Forever. 
 

Taylor

Friends of WF

Lexie looked around the room. She spotted Jack. He was leaving a poker table. She joined the same table. The cards were predominantly high. He had done a good job. She was nervous at first. But she knew counting wasn't illegal. Jack had assured her of that. She played a number of rounds. She was winning. A large man approached her. He was dressed all in black. He looked like security.

"Mamn? Management wants to speak to you. Please follow me."

Her heart raced. What should she do? She had to think quickly. Could she bolt? She looked at the door. More security! She decided to follow the man.

"Hello, I'm the casino manager. We would like you to leave. You are just too good for us."


Jack had warned her. The casino could refuse her business. It's in the Tresspassing Act.


"Yes, I understand." She turned away and cashed out. No one tried to stop her. She heaved a sigh of relief. She saw Jack at the door. They left the casino together. Once outside, they embraced.


"We did it!"


"Yes we did! We have our down payment. Jack, we can buy the house!"



Good exercise! Six words is enough. I probably should have made it longer... How long should a story be?
 
Last edited:

Taylor

Friends of WF
"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."

FABULOUS! I didn't even notice the six words or less.

Did you mean in the first sentence: "I have my wedding ring off."

Good work!
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Top