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Thread: Short stories that aren't really short stories

  1. #1
    Registered: Jul 2002
    Location: Edmonton

    Short stories that aren't really short stories

    because they're too short. More like, vignettes, because that's easier to write.


    once when David got home and was very tired he laid down on the couch and while the tv showed a kiwi talking about archeological finds, he fell asleep. And when he awoke he was somewhere else, from the blackness he could hear wind chimes and he could feel a cool breeze. As the black fog began to clear, david began to perceive vague shapes.

    From Hong Kong there came a package. Inside the package was an iphone case. But when they tried to put the case on the phone, they found that it fit very loosely, with little satisfaction. It was then that they noticed a small piece of pale green paper buried in the styrofoam inside the box. On the paper was the signature of their postman. He had written nothing but his name, but they knew what it meant. It was the postman's revenge.

    Triceratops and Santa, both of whom you already know, had always argued over money. No matter how much who owed whom or for how long, neither could admit the truth: that both had long since lost track of the actual amounts. Money was always the official pretense, but lately it was only the excuse for the fight. Observers speculated that materials were the source of the problem: did Ceramics have an inherent aversion to Plastics? Few were keen to talk about race, but that would've been a mistake, anyway. Speculation wasn't even necessary. But nobody seemed to understand that sometimes hatred is pure, irrational, and unfounded. Sometimes hatred simply exists, as was the case with old Santa and young Triceratops.

    Chief wanted a french fry. They were spilled on the kitchen table, and Chief was on the table too. He reached for a fry, and David took a photo of him, reaching. But Kelcey said to the Chief: "no McDonalds!" and Chief had no choice but to move away, for he was enamoured with Kelcey, and would listen to everything she said.

    At a soccer game, some other teams that were playing were given dairy queen hamburgers afterwards. As they walked by, his mom said she wanted one, but his dad dismissed her, "no, they're for the kids!" Later that afternoon he laid in bed in tears, thinking about the hamburgers, and repeating in his head, "they're for the kids!" How sorry he felt for her, how pitiful the situation had been, he couldn't think of it without feeling great sorrow. The more he remembered it the worse he felt. Eventually his dad came in and saw him crying, and asked him what was the matter. For a moment now I remembered the dad being dismissive again, saying "why would that bother you? Stop crying" but that isn't what actually happened. His dad came in, learned what was causing his son such grief, and with amused sympathy, he comforted his son until he felt better. But I am not certain he ever understood exactly why his son was crying, and now that so much time has passed, I'm not certain I understand either.

    continue the stories, or write your own, or do whatever. It's Easy 'cause they're shorter than Short! Also I won't judge you if they suck, and as a token of that goodwill I submit the previous shorter-than-short stories. You can surely do better!

  2. #2
    Taking a break
    Registered: Dec 2002
    I like shorts

    They're comfy and easy to wear

  3. #3
    Registered: Jan 2003
    Location: NeoTokyo
    Rodger walked into class wearing only a towel for pants, t-shirt, bathrobe, and a flyer's cap with the goggles pulled down.

    I asked him if he noticed that he still had his goggles on, and he slowly turned to me and said "When you wear goggles, nobody fucks with you."

    I didn't disagree with the man.

  4. #4
    Level 10,000 achieved
    Registered: Mar 2001
    Location: Finland

    based on a true story of last weekend...

    I woke up late in the afternoon, my head spinning from the party of the previous night. My stomach turned and I rushed to the bathroom. I didn't know it yet but that was only to be the first or many long conversations I would have on the great porcelain telephone that day.

  5. #5
    Chakat sex pillow
    Registered: Sep 2006
    Location: not here
    It rained and rained like all of heaven's gods decided to take a piss all at the same time. A man crossed the street, slipped, tumbled and slid towards the end of the world and, screaming, fell away into the inky black ocean beyond it. He would eventually reach and become part of the glittering ring of ice-encrusted debris that encircled the world, a lumpen jewel in the sky reflecting starlight to our eyes forever more.

    I remember when that had almost happened to me, once... I traded my momentum as I skidded down the street with the fat lady and her chihuahua, by grabbing onto her ankle and flinging her away from me instead. The force of the throw stopped me in my course while she rocketed away into bedazzled night.

    Good riddance, I say. I hate chihuahuas.

    The way the light slants in from the windows, coating her skin with liquid gold, it's what I wake up for in the morning. She's sleeping, her arm wrapped around me, her lips against my cheek. There's a smile on her face as the light inches across, and for a moment she glows like an angel.

  6. #6
    Registered: Jul 2002
    Location: Edmonton
    Quote Originally Posted by Sulphur View Post
    It rained and rained like all of heaven's gods decided to take a piss all at the same time. A man crossed the street, slipped, tumbled and slid towards the end of the world and, screaming, fell away into the inky black ocean beyond it. He would eventually reach and become part of the glittering ring of ice-encrusted debris that encircled the world, a lumpen jewel in the sky reflecting starlight to our eyes forever more.
    I really like this paragraph as a short story unto itself

  7. #7
    Chakat sex pillow
    Registered: Sep 2006
    Location: not here
    Thanks! I was sort of trying to go with the same vibes that you started off with. Love the postman's revenge one. I'll try for something different later, when I haven't just had a huge domestic spat with a flatmate and feel oddly liberated about articulating years of resentment without flying into a rage.

  8. #8
    Registered: Nov 2003
    Location: not there again!
    I picked up my clothes from the drycleaners, and the shoes, too; they were still dancing. I heard the echoes of last night from afar, I heard my steps again clicking through the lifeless city. An unnamed street, the air felt like rain. My thoughts materialized from the darkness of my memory and all of a sudden, I was there again. Somehow as if yesterday was born again and today never came. When the darkness went away, something was left lying in between the puddles. What was it...

    Just seeing something lying doesn't mean I check it out, but when it's a cellphone, I pick it up, especially if it's mine. It keeps ringing, it must be the guys, they went outside to call me a cab when I was paying. And just as I was leaving, horns blaring, sirens, blue lights and a man dressed in red pushed me into the alley. Shouts, panic, wild gestures - it's the city talking. Well, back to the cellphone that's buzzing and whirring on the floor, and just like always, when I reach for it - shit, the battery's down.

    Birds, daylight and that's about it. I'm still outside and my head's twirling like cheap coffee in a paper cup. If I could call my pals I would, but my phone's dead. The first respectable citizens emerge and I'm trying to get some help from them but they all pass me without even making eye contact. Am I invisible or am I just a bad sight after the last night? That could be it, so it's off to the drycleaners, take off all my clothes and shoes as well. I find a spot to sit and something to leaf through. I grab an issue of Yesterday's World.

    I lick my thumb and browse through the newspaper, I skip politics and I skip war as well. I'm trying not to doze off, eyeing the washing machine. It's not in a hurry so I read in, by chance opening the page with obituaries. But then I see the laundry lady, she's laying down my clothes like a funeral wreath and I feel like being my own audience. I'm all out of words, there's nothing to say anyway. I don't really know, I'm just staring, staring at myself in the newspaper. I don't understand, I try to touch myself but I'm immaterial. Something tells me, hey, admit it. I'm outside this story and I'm outside this world 'cause I'm dead.

    I watch my lifeless bloody body laying on the counter. The laundry lady just nods her head and puts a bill in my hand. But I know this is no laundry lady and that I'm not really there, either. It was me what lay between the puddles yesterday. It was because of me that the ambulance woke up the sleeping city, and the steps I heard belonged to my killers. And so I stand here, silent and amazed, crumpling the bill in my hand, hoping that in my time outside there I managed to make enough to pay off this last debt.

  9. #9
    Registered: Feb 2002
    Location: In the flesh.
    Rick had been friends with Eugene since that first day of Junior high when they had accidently worn matching flannel shirts though, as it turned out, neither liked Curt Cobain. They got to know each other so well that Rick was at a loss to answer Eugenes question about how a friend was like a tree. Then he noticed the axe in Eugenes hand.

    You would think there would be a truck heading into town for supplies with the spring thaw. Not everyone had been greenhorn enough to leave thier vehical uncranked in backwoods Alaska until the battery died and even if they had the more seasoned would have a charger. Damn having to hoof it 20 miles into town through progressively grayer snow that froze toes through three layers of socks and waterproof boots. There wasn't even a track on the road to give any hope of a ride. If the electricity hadn't gone out with the earthquake last week it might have been worth waiting for warmer weather. Even the goading about city boys in man country would have been worth swapping for a ride if he could have gotten anyone on the phone. These things kept turning over in Jims mind until he crested the rise and nearly stepped into the crater where the edge of town used to be. He thought of other things on the way back to the cabin.

  10. #10
    Registered: Jan 2006
    Location: On the tip of your tongue.
    I awoke to pain and cold. She was long gone, but the hurt she had left throbbed in my head and my side. I blinked my eyes open in the ice-filled bath and wished I had had a kidney to spare.

  11. #11
    Registered: May 2001
    Location: Stir Crazy
    It was a Saturday night of February of 2010, and I was watching TV cable at 3 AM and something, (NatGeo HD, and if you must know, The jewels of the emperor of China) and all of the sudden a rumble came about, oh yeah one of those small quakes again, however it wasn't a small quake, it kept increasing the tone and intensity, so there I was in the middle of the house concrete stairwell corridor watching my UPS powering up my only light source in the middle of the mess, as the power lines collided each other causing sectored black outs, in the end even the main power lines ended up like that with a big black out.

    Amid the dust that arose in the quake shake I was looking for my female cat, who was over the top of the curtains in the corner of the living room, the little kitties that came to life just days before didn't realize that the alternating motion was not a cradle moving gently, but a rough 8.8Mw (corrected Richter scale) earthquake that moved a land line of about 400 Miles (640Kms) in length in a few seconds for a maximum of ten feet (3.04mts) toward the southern Pacific sea.

    As I turned on my portable FM radio, radiostations had no idea of the real intensity of the quake or the damage at the southern end of the country.

    I could watch the TV news the next morning thanks to my readiness (loads of rechargeable LED flashlights and UPS and car batteries) thanks to two UPS and an inverter that kept running my flat screen TV (very little consumption for an LCD) to see live broadcasts about the quake damage, we were lucky that the power came back to normal during the early noon, other sectors of the same city took a week, and the directly affected area took some months, I had loads of drinking water and food for no less than 10 days. There was no need to face desperate people running around like the end of the world came all of the sudden.

    People in the most affected areas resorted to sacking and pillaging supermarkets including first necessity items such as Stereos, LCD/Plasma HDTVs, washing machines, and refrigerators even without electrical power some people wants to steal the best they can... just about 3 billion dollars stolen in goods in one day, geez those desperate mobs, food was the first to go I guess. (how's your TV, meaty? Some what glassy with loads of copper I presume.) Well in the end those goods were recovered and people stealing, storing, and selling them, was arrested, martial law was ensued for a few weeks and then back to normal for the affected areas.

    Morale, be always ready for the unexpected but probable events in life, including Zombie attacks.

    And pillaging, never have an end of the world scenario without it.

  12. #12
    New Member
    Registered: Feb 2006
    Location: bathtub
    When I sat down with the interviewer the first thing he explained to me was that the company I had applied for didn't exist. He had an expensive suit on and silvery hair and an outlandish secretary with enormous titties, so I kept listening.
    Then he said it didn't matter because he had about 60-80 other companies I could work for. He was waving an organisational chart about and I saw a lot of colorful logos on it.
    He showed me how his companies work and I saw impressive pyramid schemes, well planned scams, refined fraud and many a flimflam. And I began to understand about the secretary, the huge office and expensive suit. I smiled.

  13. #13
    Registered: May 2002
    Every thursday morning it was the class's favourite part of the day. But Mrs. Frank decided it was her turn for show and tell. She announced to her grade three class that she was going to do the Tell part. The children all smiled. She stood before her class of eager students. They all waited. She asked them: "How many of you have wanted to be a different person?"
    Wee Moira raised her hand. “I’d like to be Lady Ga Ga” she said. They all laughed. Then they waited and Mrs. Frank spoke.“I want to become a man,” she said.
    “But you can’t Mrs. Frank,” Young Jimmy said, “you’re already a girl.”
    “Yes I can,” she answered, “Let me tell you how.”
    When she was finished, and had erased the blackboard, they all looked at each other and smiled. Mrs. Frank made everything that seemed wrong, right. That’s why they loved her so much and thought her to be the best teacher in the whole school.Young Jimmy smiled. One day for show and tell, he would bring his father’s whiskey. He bet that Mrs. Frank, or maybe by then, Mr. Frank would let him pass the bottle to everybody.
    Last edited by jimjack; 30th Jun 2011 at 11:15. Reason: grammatix

  14. #14
    Cuddly little misanthropic hate machine
    Registered: Aug 2004
    Location: someplace better than this
    In early 1986, the ABC station in Pittsburgh had its signal mysteriously hijacked at 7:06 AM every four days for two months. The hijacking signal would broadcast footage of a person, of varying race, age and gender, being manually strangled while an electronic buzzing voice screamed in a language which was mostly unintelligible but was later identified as being Haitian Creole. Those who watched the footage would get headaches, nosebleeds, and/or develop brain tumors within five years. When the person being strangled died the broadcast would end. Most of the people being strangled strongly resembled descriptions of missing persons from the Pittsburgh area, but many missing persons reports dated back to the late 1960s. Those who did not fit a description at the time would come to match descriptions as late as 2004.

  15. #15
    New Member
    Registered: Feb 2006
    Location: bathtub
    That's a scary urban legend! Like something from Videodrome.

    In jimjack's story the "But" in the second sentence seemed to come out of nowhere? Anyway, good story.

  16. #16
    Registered: Feb 2011
    Location: IN UR INTERNETS
    I took a dook yesterday.

  17. #17
    Still Subjective
    Registered: Dec 1999
    Location: Idiocy will never die

    This is a true story

    It all makes sense now.

    Yesterday as I drove past Villa Park there seemed to be groups of young women heading to or from... somewhere. People in reflective jackets directing them, and traffic, to some nebulous, unknown, destination.

    I passed 2 couples walking toward me upon the pavement and as I did I caught the eye of not one, but both of the men. They seem to be empty, like dried bottles in the desert - once the holders of life but now husks; without vitality.

    The eyes cried out to me.

    And for a brief moment both of them considered jumping in front of my car. I could tell, see it in those subtle, agonised stares. They seemed to ask me to ram them, to shatter them, urged me to end their lives quickly and with sleek mechanical violence.

    The thought of a ton of accelerated black metal slamming into their bodies held no fear, only the promise of release - sweet, sweet release. Those moments of destruction that would be perpetuated in time, in what feels like an endless symphony of pain for the sufferer but which is over in a flash to the observer a mere inconvenience in a necessary orchestra of petrol and horsepower death.

    Cried out to me.

    Those eyes!

    I shuddered.

    I didn't understand why. Images of the horror in their eyes haunted me in my dreams last night.

    Today finally, finally I understand.

    They were being dragged to a Take That concert.

  18. #18
    Registered: Jan 2006
    Location: On the tip of your tongue.
    Detective Christ pushed open the office door wearily, his shoulder still aching dully. Gina looked up and smiled.
    "Did you get my email?" she asked as Jesus hung his jacket and halo on the peg.
    "Sorry, I haven't checked," he replied, "You know how bad I am with computers."
    He nudged the mouse on his desk to clear the screensaver, and squinted at Microsoft Outlook, scratching an irritating spot that was growing under his beard. His mind was still occupied by the dead woman's glassy stare, a trickle of blood dried on her face like smudged lipstick. He felt a surge of anger but caught sight of Gina looking at him expectantly.
    "You're having a party?" he said at last.
    Gina giggled and clapped her hands together.
    "It's for my birthday; I'd love if you could come!"
    Christ screwed up his face and picked at a bit of chicken stuck in his teeth.
    "Have to get you anything?"
    Her smile faded slightly.
    "Well... no. I mean, you can if you like, but it's not, like, formal or anything."
    "Alright, I'll come," he said, then saw the hurt look on her face.
    "I'd be delighted," he added reassuringly with a tired smile.

    That evening he deliberated at the wine aisle, frowning with indecision, before looking in his wallet and settling for an Evian water bottle.

  19. #19
    Registered: Apr 2000
    Location: best coast

    Also true

    There was an alligator in the driveway. They had no idea how it got there.

  20. #20
    Registered: Jul 2002
    Location: Edmonton
    ahaha detective christ is brilliant

  21. #21
    Registered: Jul 2002
    Location: Edmonton
    They gave him the award, they actually gave it to him, and as he ascended the steps on the side of the stage he whispered—almost hysterically—to the presenter, Why did I win this? What did I even do to deserve this? The presenter pressed his lips into a hard smile that said just accept it but the audience was watching so nothing was actually spoken, only smiled. The award was genuine; someone had inexplicably chosen him as the ideal recipient. Afterwards he sat with audience again, holding his award against his chest and looking guiltily around him. He knew, and they probably knew too. But his ingratitude wholly overshadowed any question of worthiness, and as he stirred anxiously in his seat, even the audience could feel the weight of his mistake.

  22. #22
    Registered: Jul 2002
    Location: Edmonton

    unrelated to previous

    ...and suddenly the audience starts laughing, you're holding the leg,
    you were fucking a false leg! It was a prank, you didn't realize, and
    now she's laughing at you and the audience is too.

  23. #23
    Registered: Nov 2003
    Location: not there again!
    The world is nothing but a straight road. Focus on the horizon. Start the engine. Rev it a few times. Put the car in gear. Listen to your heartbeat, it will guide you.

    Floor it.

  24. #24
    Registered: Jan 2003
    Location: NeoTokyo
    A recent Facebook conversation:

    Andrew: After years of being a dedicated vegetarian, I have decided to return to the carnivore fold by eating a baby panda bear.

    Sarah: A baby panda bear?? Are you serious?

    Andrew: While its mother is watching...

    Sarah: Now you're going over the line. What about the animals' feelings?

    demagogue: If it were up to me, I'd attract a pregnant panda bear with some sweetened bamboo juice then cut the fetus out of her stomach, fuck the mother panda hard using the panda fetus as a condom, cum into the panda fetus's guts, then pull the whole messy fetus concoction out, put it in a blender, liquify it, pour it over the shell-shocked panda mother's face and down her gaping mouth bukkake style, then lick & eat it off her face looking intently into her watching eyes.

    And then, on one side of the room, a small door suddenly opens with a burst of great light streaming in, and a droning noise begins as from a David Lynch movie. A dwarfed man walks slowly out of the light into the room, wearing a tuxedo, top hat, and cane to help with his walking. The lights in the room grow dim and a spotlight turns on, following the small man as he walks towards us, with the striking of the cane and his footsteps on the wooden floor echoing loudly with enhanced reverb, as me and the panda watch him. When he arrives, he turns towards the audience and says two words with a ring-leader's flair: "The Aristocrats". And then he turns around and walks slowly back through the door, it magically closing behind him, as me and the panda follow him with our eyes in stunned silence. And then the curtains close.

    Sarah: ...
    Last edited by demagogue; 4th Jul 2011 at 15:16.

  25. #25
    Registered: Jan 2006
    Location: On the tip of your tongue.
    Best. Aristocrats joke. Ever.

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