55 word fiction

A collection of 55 word stories written by various bloggers.

Rajesh J. Advani

The Beginning

"Hey," says a voice. "You’ve been tagged. Write a story in 55 words or less."

The blogger awakes.

"55 words," he thinks. "Hmm."

He flexes his fingers. "Let the writing begin..."


Do you?

"Go on!" his friends urge him. "Tell her how you feel. You never know. She may feel the same way about you too."

So he walks over to her. "I love you," he says. "Do you love me too?"

She pauses for a moment before replying. He looks familiar. "No", she decides finally.


Slow And Steady

"Race?" suggested the hare.

"Sure," said the tortoise. The tortoise always wins, he thought.

"Ready, set, go!"

The hare bounced away. The tortoise shuffled forward slowly.

I won’t stop for a nap this time, thought the hare. Half way to the finish line, a hunter shot him dead.

The tortoise always wins.



The detectives arrive on the scene.

"Looks like murder," they say. "He's been shot in the chest."

The maid is sobbing. The wife seems to be in shock.

"Do you suspect anyone, ma'am?" they ask the wife.

She looks at them sadly. "The gun's in the cupboard. He was having an affair with the maid."


Princess Diaries

There was once a princess who slept on a pea and hurt her back. Seven dwarf lawyers sued an evil witch for it. The princess beat the witch with her glass slipper. This broke a spell and the witch turned into a handsome prince. The frog was jealous, but they lived happily ever after.



"Why stone?" asked the girl.

"I was alive once," said the gargoyle.

"I too laughed, played, danced, loved...

"And lost.

"It hurt. I cried. The pain was unbearable.

"So I turned into stone. Stone feels no pain."

The girl looked at the gargoyle silently. Then she walked away.

The gargoyle didn't.



Sally won the gold medal for the 100-metre sprint for two years straight. The third year she came second by a hair's width.

That evening they found the winner's dead body in a dumpster. They caught Sally when her motorcycle fell and the bloody knife fell out.

She could run, but she couldn't ride.



"Twelve," he thought, as he wiped the blade on the body.

They called him a hitman. He called himself a messenger.

"One murder or a dozen, there is only one Hell," he thought to himself as he dragged the body into a bush.

The Devil stood nearby, watching. He smiled.


Ever After?

They met. They fell in love. They courted.

Soon he got a job, and they got married. They fought a little, but mostly it was a good marriage. They had two children - a boy and a girl.

They lived happily together till he died at the age of seventy-nine. She died a year later.



They called him a mad scientist.

He looked at his invisibility potion. He'd show them.

So he drank the potion. And every part of him was transparent. Including his eyes.

Refraction stopped working. He was blind.

He could see no one. And no one could see him.

It drove him mad.


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