microfiction

Questions

Why are there always so many questions?

What happened? What were you trying to accomplish? What were you thinking? What are you going to do now? Are you crazy? What’s wrong with you? Who do you think you are? What about the kids? What about Patches and Fluffy? Do you hate me? What did I do to you? How can you  live with yourself? Why are you such an asshole? Are you serious? Are you kidding? What are you, some kind of psychopath? Should I call the police? What do you mean you already did? What do you expect from me? Am I supposed to be a martyr for you? Would you do the same for me? Why are you crying? Do you even love me at all anymore? Where are you going?

Wait, where are you going?

Question mark (by the Italian voice)

Gunning Late

Doc Brody was late for the appointment, which had clearly been made for high noon. He had personally requested my promptness. “Don’t be late,” he’d said. How unprofessional. How inconsiderate. Was his time somehow more valuable?

What kind of self respecting outlaw shows up late for a gun fight anyway?

Six Gun City (by Carolinadoug on Flickr)

Written for the DP Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty

For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words.


See my other fifty word stories HERE.

Justice

Justice found Trujillo in the form of a posse. Shotguns, six shooters, extra rope. They followed the trail of bodies and broken hearts across the countryside.

The sheriff looked into his only eye and asked if Trujillo had any last words. He shook his enormous head.

The noose barely fit.

Get a Rope! (by mlhradio on Flickr)

Written for the DP Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty

For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words.

The Test

The lecture diverged to the subject of taking personal responsibility for your actions and making decisions that considered others. The art of thoughtful action.

A hand rose in the back of the classroom. “Mr. Peabody, will we be tested on  this?”

“Every single day for the rest of your lives.”

Question (by Clarkston SCAMP)

Written for the DP Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty

For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words.

Hating Life

His life filled with things he hated. Radiation. Chemotherapy. Inoperable cancer.

He hated that everything should be compromised to have a chance.

He hated that everybody told him how sorry they were, like it was their fault somehow.

Above all, he hated that what he really wanted was another cigarette.

Smoke (by Ferran.)

Written for the DP Weekly Writing Challenge: Fifty

For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words.