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<channel>
	<title>55fiction.com</title>
	<link>http://www.55fiction.com</link>
	<description>Fragments of fiction in 55 words</description>
	<pubDate>Mon, 25 Jun 2007 02:55:17 +0000</pubDate>
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	<language>en</language>
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		<title>Wait Well</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/AvWElumMC1s/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/wait-well/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 25 Jun 2007 02:52:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Guest entries]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/wait-well/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Our final story of the weekend comes from David von Schlichten. Thanks, everyone!
Midnight tolled, but Paul kept preaching.
Eutychus sat in a window, inhaling cool air, but still nodding. He fell asleep, then out. Thud!
We all rushed downstairs, stood around Eutychus’ body, his head bleeding, chest motionless. Paul scooped him up, embraced. Eutychus gasped. Alive!
Paul said, [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>Our final story of the weekend comes from David von Schlichten. Thanks, everyone!</em></p>
<p>Midnight tolled, but Paul kept preaching.</p>
<p>Eutychus sat in a window, inhaling cool air, but still nodding. He fell asleep, then out. Thud!</p>
<p>We all rushed downstairs, stood around Eutychus’ body, his head bleeding, chest motionless. Paul scooped him up, embraced. Eutychus gasped. Alive!</p>
<p>Paul said, “Next time, just go to bed. God will wait.”</p>
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		<item>
		<title>Drunk Driver</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/FUF-R-K4NIE/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/drunk-driver/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 24 Jun 2007 14:50:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Guest entries]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/drunk-driver/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sunday begins with this tragedy from Sarah Kearns.
“I love you Sam.” Susan whispered with a kiss as she rushed out the door to her own wedding shower.
Head on, a drunk driver collided into her BMW. Pinned down, cuffed, and thrown into the back seat of the cop car he was asked, “Sir, what’s your name?”
The [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>Sunday begins with this tragedy from Sarah Kearns.</em></p>
<p>“I love you Sam.” Susan whispered with a kiss as she rushed out the door to her own wedding shower.</p>
<p>Head on, a drunk driver collided into her BMW. Pinned down, cuffed, and thrown into the back seat of the cop car he was asked, “Sir, what’s your name?”</p>
<p>The driver responded “I’m…I’m uh Sam.”</p>
<p class="akst_link"><a href="http://www.55fiction.com/?p=431&amp;akst_action=share-this"  title="E-mail this, post to del.icio.us, etc." id="akst_link_431" class="akst_share_link" rel="nofollow">Share This</a>
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		<item>
		<title>Snake Charmer</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/pvkMShdos2Q/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/snake-charmer/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 24 Jun 2007 02:48:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Guest entries]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/snake-charmer/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Our next story comes from Geoffrey Levon.
Amir laid his mat and wicker basket on sandy earth.  Squatting, the bonyhands lifting the lid.  The bustling market place opened attentively.  His pipe droned seductively, the cobra emerged.  Man&#8217;s gaze met Serpent&#8217;s glare, the charming rhythm impeccable. Beautiful Amrita slithered into his thoughts, his [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>Our next story comes from Geoffrey Levon.</em></p>
<p>Amir laid his mat and wicker basket on sandy earth.  Squatting, the bonyhands lifting the lid.  The bustling market place opened attentively.  His pipe droned seductively, the cobra emerged.  Man&#8217;s gaze met Serpent&#8217;s glare, the charming rhythm impeccable. Beautiful Amrita slithered into his thoughts, his focus faltering.  Amateur mistake, the snake struck in victory.</p>
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		<title>Surgical Day</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/UpZaIhvhI-4/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/surgical-day/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Jun 2007 14:48:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Guest entries]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/surgical-day/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[After a brief hiatus, we mark the return of Reader Submission weekends with this story from MaryEllen Letarte.
She smiles a Cheshire Cat Grin and gives me a Valium. Radiation-needle markers disguise themselves as tortured croquet wickets.  I fret while talking to the White Rabbit.
I’m rolling down toward the Mad Hatter. My laughter paints the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>After a brief hiatus, we mark the return of Reader Submission weekends with this story from <a href="http://www.louisebogan.org/">MaryEllen Letarte</a>.</em></p>
<p>She smiles a Cheshire Cat Grin and gives me a Valium. Radiation-needle markers disguise themselves as tortured croquet wickets.  I fret while talking to the White Rabbit.</p>
<p>I’m rolling down toward the Mad Hatter. My laughter paints the tension red. The anesthesiologist visits, breathing drugs.</p>
<p>“Off with your breasts.”</p>
<p>“It’s the Queen.”</p>
<p>“Tea time.”</p>
<p>“Alice?”</p>
<p class="akst_link"><a href="http://www.55fiction.com/?p=429&amp;akst_action=share-this"  title="E-mail this, post to del.icio.us, etc." id="akst_link_429" class="akst_share_link" rel="nofollow">Share This</a>
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		<item>
		<title>Silent Death</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/BISFmQ1zWgI/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/silent-death/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Jun 2007 22:22:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Military]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Tragedy]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/silent-death/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The bullet passed through the soldier&#8217;s chest, decorating the linoleum floor in a fine, maroon speckle. Time momentarily froze as the tranquility of a routine patrol was shattered by the silent death of a sniper rifle.
CRACK! came the rifle shot, and every man in the room took cover, smearing the delicate pattern of blood.
Share This
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The bullet passed through the soldier&#8217;s chest, decorating the linoleum floor in a fine, maroon speckle. Time momentarily froze as the tranquility of a routine patrol was shattered by the silent death of a sniper rifle.</p>
<p>CRACK! came the rifle shot, and every man in the room took cover, smearing the delicate pattern of blood.</p>
<p class="akst_link"><a href="http://www.55fiction.com/?p=434&amp;akst_action=share-this"  title="E-mail this, post to del.icio.us, etc." id="akst_link_434" class="akst_share_link" rel="nofollow">Share This</a>
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		<item>
		<title>Luke and the Tuna Fish</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/zMv-lWd5nIE/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/luke-and-the-tuna-fish/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Jun 2007 23:28:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Children]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/luke-and-the-tuna-fish/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[You could see the recognition, and the distress, dawn across his face. Whatever it was, it was not something he liked. The stubby pink plunger forced the offending morsel out from between his down-turned lips. &#8220;Do&#8217; wan-it,&#8221; came the plaintive, half formed sentence, as he pushed the plate across the dining room table.
Share This
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>You could see the recognition, and the distress, dawn across his face. Whatever it was, it was not something he liked. The stubby pink plunger forced the offending morsel out from between his down-turned lips. &#8220;Do&#8217; wan-it,&#8221; came the plaintive, half formed sentence, as he pushed the plate across the dining room table.</p>
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		<item>
		<title>Making Lemonade</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/v3tv8RjvjTc/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/making-lemonade/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Jun 2007 02:54:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Holiday]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Humor]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/making-lemonade/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[John stepped out the back door, across the deck, and into his lawn. The dry, brown grass crunched as small clouds of dust billowed beneath his shoes with each step. It was only ten, and already the mercury was into the nineties.
Still, John smiled. No rain meant no mowing. A happy Father&#8217;s Day indeed!
Share This
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>John stepped out the back door, across the deck, and into his lawn. The dry, brown grass crunched as small clouds of dust billowed beneath his shoes with each step. It was only ten, and already the mercury was into the nineties.</p>
<p>Still, John smiled. No rain meant no mowing. A happy Father&#8217;s Day indeed!</p>
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		<item>
		<title>Inevitable Words</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/xaWWFnvRlBc/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/inevitable-words/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 14 Jun 2007 02:27:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Romance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.55fiction.com/427/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Though the words stung even as they passed through his lips, he knew they were rightly said. She knew, too; he could tell by the look in her eye. There was sadness, but not surprise. And certainly not anger. It simply had to be this way.
The words? &#8220;I think we should be just friends.&#8221;
Share This
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Though the words stung even as they passed through his lips, he knew they were rightly said. She knew, too; he could tell by the look in her eye. There was sadness, but not surprise. And certainly not anger. It simply had to be this way.</p>
<p>The words? &#8220;I think we should be just friends.&#8221;</p>
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		<item>
		<title>The First Novel</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/297hLPIS33k/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/the-first-novel/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 12 Jun 2007 01:30:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Inspirational]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[As the sun crested the horizon John sipped coffee from a ceramic mug his son had given him years ago. John would never again sit in rush hour, cursing his travel mug and the traffic&#8230;
If only he could pin down the story floating in his head. Picking up his pen, John began to write.
Share This
]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As the sun crested the horizon John sipped coffee from a ceramic mug his son had given him years ago. John would never again sit in rush hour, cursing his travel mug and the traffic&#8230;</p>
<p>If only he could pin down the story floating in his head. Picking up his pen, John began to write.</p>
<p class="akst_link"><a href="http://www.55fiction.com/?p=426&amp;akst_action=share-this"  title="E-mail this, post to del.icio.us, etc." id="akst_link_426" class="akst_share_link" rel="nofollow">Share This</a>
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		<item>
		<title>Public Speaking</title>
		<link>http://feeds.b5media.com/~r/b5media/55Fiction/~3/lrTpeZD-cOc/</link>
		<comments>http://www.55fiction.com/public-speaking/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 09 Jun 2007 03:06:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Cory Aldrich</dc:creator>
		
		<category><![CDATA[Cory]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>

		<category><![CDATA[Inspirational]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[(Pardon the shameless self-promotion, but I&#8217;m pretty excited about an event we&#8217;re hosting this weekend. Details of our World Vision Benefit BBQ can be found here.)
The crowd was larger than expected, and everyone was having a good time eating and talking. &#8220;Ready?&#8221; I asked.
&#8220;Ready,&#8221; she said. Making her way across the yard she grabbed the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>(Pardon the shameless self-promotion, but I&#8217;m pretty excited about an event we&#8217;re hosting this weekend. Details of our <a href="http://www.mynameismommy.com/world-vision-bbq/">World Vision Benefit BBQ can be found here</a>.)</em></p>
<p>The crowd was larger than expected, and everyone was having a good time eating and talking. &#8220;Ready?&#8221; I asked.</p>
<p>&#8220;Ready,&#8221; she said. Making her way across the yard she grabbed the microphone and turned it on.</p>
<p>&#8220;Everyone&#8230; Thank you for coming. I&#8217;d like to share a few words about why we&#8217;re having this little party.&#8221;</p>
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