Six Word Stories Omnibus: Volume Three

The aghast ghost of Hemingway harrumphs,
“I haven’t sufficient six word stories,
you fools. Less is not more.
More is more. Feed me now!
Make me a corpulent fiction fiend
for minimalist tales – my Hors d’oeuvres!”

Story 1:
I’m stuck here, tomorrow never arrives.
by Bloghettihoops

Story 2:
Yeah! I will surely try them!
Story 3:
All of them are so cool!
by Meher

Story 4:
Eyes are the most attractive part.
by Bridget the Ladybug

Story 5:
His are cold, hers are dead.
by Violet Online

Story 6:
It’s strange this six-word thing.
Story 7:
Excuse an Englishman his cricket metaphors.
Story 8:
Hit by lyrics of a miss.
Story 9:
Scrub the nonsense will you please.
Story 10:
I can’t resist these damn things!
by EDC Writing

Story 11:
“Let’s talk.” He closed his eyes.
by Wordwool

Story 12:
Every word makes you ask questions.
by Nadia

Story 13:
“I see,” said the blind man.
by Colin and Ray

Story 14:
Red dripped slowly. Paint? Blood? Jelly?
Story 15:
Just watch out for the puddle.
Story 16:
Bear! Bear? Bear! Crossing the bar.
Story 17:
Wild ducks. Overhead. Winter. Quacking up.
by Dunnasead

Story 18:
Old eyes recognize smile–new friends.
Story 19:
All about you didn’t work well.
Story 20:
Venus de Marshmallow… guy loves plump wife.
Story 21:
Wow wow wow, this is fabulous!
Story 22:
Oh wowza, that’s a great one!
by Azul

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

Six Word Stories #6

Am I actually dying? Oh, f—

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

CRACKED FABLES // The Ant and the Cicada

Imagine, if you will, a field in Boring, Oregano. It’s a blisteringly hot summer’s day–the kind that makes bark peel off trees to find shelter from the sun’s calamitous gaze.

Cicada is lazing about wearing his customary bling. He’s chomping down on stogies while flipping through the latest copy of Big Buzzo Jumblies. This is what you do when you’re young, dumb and full of hum.

Ant, meanwhile, is nearby, huffing and puffing with a heavy trolley load of corn ears and woodworking equipment. She’s taking these essentials back to her place. She’s got a big project in mind…

“Wassup playa!” says Cicada. “Haul ovah’n rap wit’ me ’steada toilin’ moilin’ tha whole dam’ day!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ant.

“Holla at’cha, yo!” says Cicada. “Hang wit’ me ho, ’steada slayin’ biz wit’ da wheel whizz!”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” says Ant. “You do realise you’re not a gangsta rapper, don’t you?”

“Dawg, I’s that’n a bag o’ potata chips!” says Cicada. “Badassical!”

“I see,” says Ant, not seeing. “Here I am trying to build a shelter and lay up food for the winter, and all you can do is waste time showing off your posing pouch and speaking gibberish.”

“Yo, winta ain’t no thing but a chick’n wing!” says Cicada. “Sitch is I’skin already gets me eats an’ alcamahol and tasty blo’ hos any time I want!”

“Ooohhh-kay,” says Ant, rolling her eyes. “Have a wonderful summer then.”

Ant goes on her way to begin preparations. She sets about converting her place into a cosy, fifteen bedroom tree house with a spacious observation deck and outdoor heating. It’s from here that she plans to spend the winter, kicking back with a hot toddy, warm muff, and popcorn to view the Pleiades in all its stellar goodness. She’s really thought this through, you see, and stocks her new home with more ears of corn than one can poke ears of corn at. When the renovation is complete, Ant names the revamped abode Lady of Patience.

Winter eventually rolls around like a dial on an oven set to ‘Off’ and, predictably, Cicada has no food left by this point. He’s dying of malnutrition in a gutter. His rudey dudey mags have blown away to more clement climes. Even his bling has lost its zing. Ant, on the other hand, is spending every day on her deck, nibbling hot buttered, microwave nuked popcorn from the stores that she’d collected in the summer.

Cicada looks up from his self-inflicted misery and sees this. He finally swallows his pride, drags his sorry, withered arse to Ant’s door… and knocks. It opens, and there she is, looking down at him. His mouth opens–as if to say something contrite–then, changing his mind, he pulls out a piece, guns her down and takes all her stuff.

The moral of the story? “Good things come to those that wait.” Sure. Why the hell not.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

GUEST POST // Did by Pixie Annie

Did you ever stop to think
that the world might not be round
or if pigs can really fly because
I’ve only seen them on the ground

did you ever stop to think
that the sky might not be blue
or if money grows on trees
would we know just what to do

did you ever stop to think
that a heart could really break
or if dogs are really man’s best friend
that we ought to feed them steak

did you ever stop to think
that we forgot how to be kind
or if miracles do really happen
that our greed it made us blind

did you ever to stop to think
that love might not be in the air
or if crocodiles can really cry
that it’s never too late to care

by PIXIE ANNIE
© All rights reserved 2016

Teti-à-Tête (With Tony) #2

(Dear readers, feel free to click on the image in order to embiggen it. Go on. Clicking things is fun. We promise!)

Guys, we know that, like us, some of you dream of being professional writers. We promise to tell you the details of this process, to share with you our experiences, and together come to our dream.

But we suspect that some of you are eager to try yourselves as literary critics. (It’s such fun to criticize others, don’t you think?) So, for those of you who want to test this… guys, we’re ready to be your Guinea pigs!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016