This story has been submitted by Ammani. Thank you for the story, Ammani.
I’m about set in motion a series of events which I’ll regret immediately. My bottom’s racing towards your sofa and I’ll be unable to stop it in time.
Soon I’ll sink into your cushions. When I’ll hear a soft crack.
All eyes will turn towards me. I think I just sat on your glasses.
Sorry.
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This story has been submitted by Bob Boyd. Thank you for the story, Bob.
“Fish don’t feel pain from fishing hooks,” the Fisherman said.
Then he dreamed he was a fish snagged by a fishing hook that caused him unbearable pain.
When he woke up, he still felt the pain, that lasted for seven days.
On the seventh day he vowed to quit fishing and the pain vanished.
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This story has been submitted by Gaurav Mishra. Thank you for the story, Gaurav.
Tarzan burrows 500 miles into the Earth’s surface to the Pellucidar domain of the Mahars, psychic pterosaur-like winged reptiles who rule over the local human tribes.
He unites the tribes into an uprising and overthrows the Mahars’ regime.
As he thumps his chest in a victory dance, he wakes up Jane, in their tree house.
(Hat-tip to Edgar Rice Burroughs)
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Most gave the same hybrid look, saying both, “Shut up!” and, “Do you know how stupid you look?” Occasionally it would be, “Poor man;” but usually it was contempt and disgust. Ten years on and it still stung like the first day.
Still, he was compelled to continue. Opening his Bible, he began to speak.
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Little ‘becca began crying large alligator tears as her mommy sat down beside her on the ferris wheel.
“It’s ok ‘becca,” said mommy. “This is a fun ride. We’ll see everything from the top.”
“No mommy!” ‘becca sobbed. “You sat on Bob!”
Bob was ‘becca’s invisible best friend.
He was inflatable.
Now he was flat.
“You’re two hours late!!!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was baking…”
“You made me wait because you were baking?!?”
“It was my first time…I brought you some to try…”
A withering look. “Maybe you should just go home.”
Later, she had a bite of the muffin he left behind. And found one sparkly ring inside.
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He stared at the homestead ahead of him. $100 wasn’t much, but it was only women and children. Besides, a man like the one who hired him was bound to want his services again. He checked his pistols and spurred his horse, determined to be done before the cowboys made it back for the evening.
(Nevermind this bit; just completing a claim: Technorati Profile)
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I sat down to write my first official story as a 55fiction blogger. I looked long and hard at the screen, then closed my eyes to picture what would come out. The idea formed in my head becoming more clear as I typed out the words. Perfect! Word count… 56! Back to the drawing board.
Mark caught his breath. The injection seemed to be working. He could feel himself relaxing, hear his heart slowing. His eyes were heavy, but he stole a glance toward his wife. He managed a weak smile before closing his eyes. The last thing he remembered was a steady whine from the machine near his bed.
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Him: We’ve been friends for long time yet I still can’t figure you out.
Her: Just quit figuring me out, silly.
Him: How else can I know how you’d respond when I ask you to be my girl?
Her: Let’s just keep walking.
Pulse racing, she cleared her throat. She’s finally experiencing that warm feeling.
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