داستانهای 55 کلمه ای (Fifty Five Words Short Stories)

[masumeh]

All At Sea

Her quick footsteps overhead awakened him. Fearful of passing ships, she'd slept on deck.Her caution irritated him; they had quarreled.
He heard the splash. Ignoring her screams for help, turned his radio louder. Then he wondered what had alarmed her.
The huge tanker came swiftly, on collision course with the little sloop.

From Rosemary Manchester

[masumeh]

in the rough



Chip was teed off.
He'd never shot an eagle. Lots of birdies in his day, but never an eagle.
He sliced it accidently.
Chip wanted no pared of this, putt he hooked himself in a trap.
His sentence? Behind the irons. Thrown in the bunker for eighteen hole years.
A bogey in society's nose.

From Ran Swanson

[masumeh]

Grapplemeyer

"Old Grapplemeyer died broke. The reading of this will is over."
"That old fraud," sobbed Lydia, Grapplemeyer's mistress of 30 years. "I've wasted my life."
"You?" shouted David. "I was his secretary, valet, and more!"
"I was only the cook, but I'll miss dear Mr. Grapplemeyer," said Rosemary, fingering a huge diamond ring.

From Shirley Powell

[masumeh]

Chameleon Schilemieleon

The Brainiac. The Nerd. Not anymore. A midsemester move to a new school. a chance for a new identity.
Algebra. First day. First period. Sitting in the back with the cool people, hoping to clique, I finish my exam long before anyone else.
Doubting my calculations, the teacher grades it aloud: 100.
I've failed.

From Patric S.Tray

[masumeh]

last flight

On a Greyhound bound for the Grand Canyon, she traveled unnoticed among the tourists, but carried no luggage or sensible shoes.
The driver slowed, announcing, "Scenic overlook ahead."
Passengers unloaded, fumbling for binoculars and cameras.
She stepped close to the edge. It had gone on long enough. Fight or flight? Fight or flight?
Flight.

From Wendy Liepman

[masumeh]

the caretaker

"Don't walk on the grass!" shouted the little man.
"Don't be stupid," the man replied. "It doesn't feel anything."
"You must care for it," retorted the little man. "It gives us beauty, but it's fragile."
"Whatever." The large man walked away.
Years Later, each had moved on.
Indifferently, the cemetery grass grew over both.

From Steven Macleod