55 Fiction is back
My favorite writing competition has returned, and submissions are due by June 14. I’ve already sent in a handful (with leftovers from my 2002ish submissions). I’ve written about this competition before, and have included it as an example in multiple posts about the joys (and effectiveness) of constrained creativity. So this time I’ll just provide a link to the rules and a new example.
Keep Some Distance
After he died, I found a secret notebook of Grandpa’s. Strangest thing… he had notes on:
• Disarming assailants
• Withstanding harsh interrogation
• Following without being noticed
Grandpa?!
So, I tried that last one out. Now I’ve got my own case to solve. Just wish his notes included “what to do after figuring out who murdered Grandpa.”
(Between this story and my previous entries, it looks like I’m carving out a nice little niche for myself in the emerging 55 Noir genre.) Also, in one of my previous posts I wondered aloud (ablog?) about the existence of “Twitter novelists.” I now happily follow @veryshortstory, who has some really good ones, really weird ones, and really good weird ones. Enjoy.
If you submit after reading this post, please drop me a line to let me know how it went, or leave your submission in the comments below.
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He woke up to a dead and battered world. The world had plunged into civil war and the world became a waste land. People now live their lives and survive in what ever way they can. The governments tore the world apart and people now try to make a better society.
They stared into the abyss; into the horizon, with nothing getting in their way. Little did they know their return home would be all but lonely. An atmosphere free of everything that made home, home. They sat, saying nothing.
Jets of orange flame penetrated the dark clouds in the sky, licking the surface of the dome. The sun was closer now, bathing the area in an eerie glow intensified by the thick glass. She breathed deeply, the air feeling stale, the climate sweltering. There was only silence. We could no longer ignore our mistakes.
Thanks to Julianna, Nick, R.W.m and Alyssa for your great 55-word stories! They’ve all been republished in noir55 and I hope you’ll submit them to the New Times competition as well.
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The doctor stood up to the podium and yelled, “Bring him out!” A battered worn man came on the stage screaming, “Listen to me! You don’t understand!”
“This is the face of a man gone mad, speaking of love.”
“Mother what is love?” The young boy asks.
“Don’t worry honey, it’s been obsolete for ages.”