Everyone kept telling me it couldn’t be done.
There was no way I could win: my opponent had already decided the outcome and taken the initiative.
I tried all my usual methods: logic and constructive reasoning.
It was hard, but in the end, I won an argument on the Internet!
The band left the stage.
The crowd yelled out for more.
The band went back on stage, plugged into their amps.
The face-melting encore had the crowd convulsing with glee.
The cleaning crews took three days to clean up all the melted faces left on the floor after the show.
He loved his chainsaw.
When the zombies appeared, he found his calling, shredding down the legions of the dead.
Surrounded, he had to cut his way into a shed to hide. Then a zombie bit his leg. Got to saw it off, or become a zombie.
Easier shed than bone.
A watched pot never boils.
An eagerly awaited time machine never arrives.
He’d sent his off exactly two hours into the future.
Six hours later, waiting for it to return, doubt creeped into his mind.
Did he send the time machine forward in time, or did he send it backward?
He had had it with this infestation. The weevils had completely decimated his crops. Shaking his fist at his desolate fields, he vowed revenge.
The following year, a friend told him, “Just use poisoned honey to trace a path to a trap.”
“Why?”
“Honey is the route of all weevils.”
“Check out the sight,” said the salesman. Actually, the automated sight somehow always zeroed-in on the target’s buttocks. “Usually makes for a good target. Just wait until the meter reaches twenty, then fire.” I’d forgotten about that, when I fired it without a target. I guess hindsight really is twenty-twenty.
I will use this blog to publish my own 50-word stories, until I complete a community site that centers on 50-word stories. I hope to build a thriving community of 50-word story writers, as I’ve met many other writers online who have found the exercise to be fun and rewarding.
Fifty!