[Use Of Weapons]

Here is a thread for people who want to try writing these ultra-short stories. 50-word hard limit, a cinquenta must be exactly 50 words, no more, no less. Have a go!

[Gust Hubb]

A gorgeous day, sailing the clouds on his ivory glider, the vivid ochre desert scenery below marred only by his shadow. Day after his 60th birthday, he enjoyed his last rush of adrenaline, white on black, wet on dry, soft on hard, his soul squeezed free of this wretched cancer.

[JLV]

In the morning he rose, another day to labor for nothing, staving off the streets for noone but himself. At work he beat the clock, forced to stay, but he walked. When the bus passed, he laughed. Never again. Would he come back tomorrow? How could he? But he will.


I liked yours, gh.

[Illuyankas]

Sighing, he gazed adoringly at the glass before him. It showed a view of surpassing loveliness, but when didn't it? A shame she couldn't take it anymore, a shame she left him over his worship. Still, on reflection, he liked the lack of distractions. He kissed the mirror and left.

[Tapper]

The rain poured down on the cobbles, gas-lit street lights spread gloomy bulbs of yellow at regular intervals, emphasizing the harsh angles of slate rooftops. The imperfections of the blown glass window panes distort my view of the outside world, turning Aachen into Transsylvania. I order another cup of coffee.

This post has been edited by Tapper: 04 June 2012 - 09:07 AM

[Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast]

He screamed—a terrible wail that filled his ears like water fills the lungs of a drowning man. His heart pounded wildly, trying to burst out of his chest and his skin was slick with sticky sweat—or was it blood? He didn't know. In the darkness, he screamed again.

This post has been edited by Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast: 04 June 2012 - 10:52 AM

[Dolmen 2.0]

the smell of the room reminded him of home, Cindy and kids playin' games in the lounge. He looked around. Cindy would love the orange curtains. He lay back, eyes closed. Then she walked in. a stranger in nothing but a towel and a smile. After he'd go buy curtains.

This post has been edited by Dolmen+: 04 June 2012 - 12:25 PM

[Sinisdar Toste]

There was only one thing left for it, and he knew nobody was going to like it, but he'd lay out their options and let them fight about it. While they were doing that, the last fueled vehicle left would carry him away. In the end, families always ate themselves.

This post has been edited by Sinisdar Toste: 06 June 2012 - 01:24 AM

[Use Of Weapons]

The man? Or the woman? He couldn't decide. Both had their attractions. The man, tall and strong. The woman, pale and demure. The choice was black and white. In the end, perhaps, he would choose as he always did. And make the same vow: "No more wedding cake, ever!"

This post has been edited by UseOfWeapons: 06 June 2012 - 09:37 AM

[JLV]

These are fun.

[Gust Hubb]

JLV, on 07 June 2012 - 02:17 AM, said:

These are fun.

Agreed, so much talent. Thanks UoW for starting this thread.

[Sinisdar Toste]

Palms red from back slapping, chapped hands, all are laughing. What a lark! A breeze! Like tweets el supreme! Literary fancy takes flight from our fingertips! Not the ones down below, man, what are you a savage? But sudden a thought, a circlejerk? Really? It seems I've stumbled into Reddit.


Tongue firmly in cheek

This post has been edited by Sinisdar Toste: 07 June 2012 - 07:46 PM

[Gust Hubb]

"Wrong day to play," clucked Chuck, ruffling sparkling dust of his feathers.
"Meh, we would have died, not swerving," stated Harrison, preening a wing atop the Mustang hood, "'cause we're almost as stubborn as a... hehe"
"Very funny, at least you didn't assume she wasn't a goddamn fairy!" brayed Jack.

[Use Of Weapons]

"That one." He pointed, then crooked a finger at the assistant, beckoning. "I'll take her."

"An excellent choice, sir. She comes with all the latest features." The assistant smiled artificially, then presented the terminal for his thumbprint. Transaction declined. "Sorry, sir."

Who wants a blow-up doll these days, anyway?

This post has been edited by UseOfWeapons: 10 June 2012 - 12:57 PM

[D'iversify]

The red rivulet oozed gelatinous down the schismatic tracks of the cracked paving, fanning branches descending together into the gutter. A mop’s flash and surge of soapy water, and it was gone. The viscous blackening patches on the brickwork followed suit. And so the traces of the act were vanished.

This post has been edited by D'iversify: 15 June 2012 - 10:05 AM

[Jade-Green Pig-Hog Swine-Beast]

Sweat beaded on his brow and he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. His mind raced as he glanced over his shoulder at the ever-growing crowd bearing down on him. Suffocating him. He knew that his time was almost up. How hard could it be? Chocolate or banana?

[Sinisdar Toste]

He struck, leaping forth, desperate for the prize. Spectators caught breath as smiles came unbidden to their faces. His opponent spun, arcing around to come in for another pass. His weapon tightly gripped, he swung blind, aiming to score a hit upon the papier-mache donkey and claim its candy innards.

[Nomadicus]

Skulking in the shadows he witnessed: Two men stood around a fire. They were talking in hushed tones. Inhuman tones. He pressed the button on his radio and whispered, "I've found the-"
Slowly they turned and he found himself staring into four eyes; black swirling pools, pitted with red. These were not humans. Anything but.

[worry]

I made one of these. A little formally odd perhaps but it's what came to me. If you don't like it, no problem. Tell me, and I will burn down my computer.





Heat. Crawl. Hours. Thirsty. Canteen? Unlikely. Empty.

Think. Sand. Dry. “Shit!” Ouch. Whimper. Curl. Sleep.

Wake. Dark. Cold. Shiver. Stretch. Stand. Step.

Fall. Shit. Stop. Steady. Rise. Steady. Listen. Anything?

Something. Something! Step. Steady. Step. Go.

Kitten?! Sleeping. Miracle. Meat. Blood. Quick.

Yes! Big. Kitten? Wait. Cub. Wait. Growling.

Wait!

[Use Of Weapons]

He crept forward, sick with fear and expectation. The crowd roared him forward, a monster at his back. He hefted his weapon as he stared down as his adversary. There was truth in this contest, and losing another kind of death. The plate beckoned. Deafening chants: "COME ON LITTLE LEAGUERS!"

This post has been edited by Use Of Weapons: 29 August 2012 - 01:18 PM