I read two blogs yesterday.
One was a collection of 55-word stories. For a verbose me, telling a story that short seemed impossible.
The second, an attempt to find heroes. Or heroines? I am slightly confused about the politically correct gender titles.
Anyway, I decided to combine the two and write about three 55-word heroines.
***
He waved the knife.
“Straight to the registrar. Ten minutes there. Then Hotel Dimple.” He sniggered, “The suhaag raat. If you refuse…”
She seemed to adjust her dupatta. Some glass flashed. The liquid hit his left eye. The flesh curdled immediately.
“Women can also carry acid”, she said. “And stop screaming. Nobody can hear you.”
***
“…You have 30 seconds to answer and your time starts now!”
“Poonam? Tandon Uncle here. Who signed the Simla Accord with…”
“I know the answer.”
“You do? Tell me!”
“I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you raped me when I was twelve. It took me fifteen years to speak up. Unfortunately for you, on national television.”
Click.
***
“It’s a girl”, the doctor said.
“The ultrasound showed a boy!”, the matriarch spluttered.
“I bribed them to lie”, the mother said.
“We will kick you out, bitch.”
“You can. They are publishing a book I wrote. I can bring up my daughters on that.”
“You wrote a book?”
“On how you treated me, Maaji.”
***
So, those were my first feeble attempts at 55-word fiction.
It was easier than I thought. I think I will do more of this.
And, a 55-word story should always end with a tag. So, I tag the following, to write on the given themes.
Mad Momma – Bollywood.
Dilnavaz – World Cup Cricket.
Udayan – 33rd Birthdays.
One was a collection of 55-word stories. For a verbose me, telling a story that short seemed impossible.
The second, an attempt to find heroes. Or heroines? I am slightly confused about the politically correct gender titles.
Anyway, I decided to combine the two and write about three 55-word heroines.
***
He waved the knife.
“Straight to the registrar. Ten minutes there. Then Hotel Dimple.” He sniggered, “The suhaag raat. If you refuse…”
She seemed to adjust her dupatta. Some glass flashed. The liquid hit his left eye. The flesh curdled immediately.
“Women can also carry acid”, she said. “And stop screaming. Nobody can hear you.”
***
“…You have 30 seconds to answer and your time starts now!”
“Poonam? Tandon Uncle here. Who signed the Simla Accord with…”
“I know the answer.”
“You do? Tell me!”
“I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you raped me when I was twelve. It took me fifteen years to speak up. Unfortunately for you, on national television.”
Click.
***
“It’s a girl”, the doctor said.
“The ultrasound showed a boy!”, the matriarch spluttered.
“I bribed them to lie”, the mother said.
“We will kick you out, bitch.”
“You can. They are publishing a book I wrote. I can bring up my daughters on that.”
“You wrote a book?”
“On how you treated me, Maaji.”
***
So, those were my first feeble attempts at 55-word fiction.
It was easier than I thought. I think I will do more of this.
And, a 55-word story should always end with a tag. So, I tag the following, to write on the given themes.
Mad Momma – Bollywood.
Dilnavaz – World Cup Cricket.
Udayan – 33rd Birthdays.
Comments
Btw, you just won an award. go see my blog and claim your spot in the sun. sick sick man, i feel like taking it all back!
2. the fact that those stupid 55s have me hooked to scribbling them! go read them on my page and SUFFER.
Oh, and just for the record.. that visual DNA thingy... we match on 3 out of 4 qualities...!!!
Many men had gathered together. There seemed to be an air of festivity around.
“Opening bid” the man cried, “100 dinars”
120 cried another
The man said: 120 dinar one
120 dinar two
Make it 150, said another
Okay 150 dinar one, 150 dinar two, 150 dinar three.
The girl was sold.
@anonymous:nice story......