Post Short Short Stories

Discussion in 'Off-topic Discussion' started by FirefromAbove, Jul 22, 2021.

  1. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    Stories taking one post...

    I was asleep in an oceanside inn. When the wind took me away.

    The wind carried me across the ether into a warring sea of spouts and tornados. They threw me around until they all died and the sea empty and remaining was one water spout, smiling with fangs, a demon with her arm around it, not smiling, but hidden.

    Hidden beneath a mask. I've seen her before in dreams, now I get to see her in front of me.

    A black shade as tall as the water spout, long sharp ears, and a skull visage contorted into a grin.

    "I'm Jesus." The Demon spoke.

    I began to swim away, and then the spout began to spin, pulling me towards the demon.

    "I've come to eat you. As you eat me." She whispered.

    The spout ate me and I met a king, laying on a bed. A sick king.

    The king looked at me and said, "This is my sea."

    And I said, "We've been eaten."

    - Me.
     
  2. ndaty

    ndaty Fapstronaut

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    No next?
     
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  3. Atticus

    Atticus Fapstronaut

    Once upon a time, I feed chicken to a bird that turned into a cats dinner.

    The chicken ate worms.

    The bird ate the chicken.

    The cat ate the bird.

    I laughed, walked onto the street and got hit by a car.

    The worms rejoice, for dinner shall be served.

    Bury me in a field, underneath a chicken's home.

    Ouroboros.
     
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  4. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    What came first the chicken or the worm?
     
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  5. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    I remember when I was a Provincial Patroller and my house was knocked down by a tornado in the fall. The weather can be weird sometimes, but instead of building a new house I went to the city.


    Now I wake up sometimes and I find eels floating in circles in my bathtub. Suffice to say sometimes I don’t bathe, but there’s no problem with that because most people in the city don’t bathe either.


    The tram is littered with the unbathed masses and I fear when I am bathed, they know I’m fake and will slay me where I stand (I can never find a seat). So most days I don’t bathe because the eels float in my tub, and the unbathed masses need not know who I really am.
     
  6. The last person on earth heard a knock on the door.
     
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  7. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    And it was a white horse.
     
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  8. I laid in the dark, in bed. The only sounds from the kitchen downstairs: the hum of the old fridge, the tick of a dollar store wall clock, and the creak from settling floorboards.

    Or was it the something else? Could they be footsteps?

    Yes, they were footsteps. Heavy ones...

    The sound of a vase shattering. It was definetly a vase. Probably the tall ceramic one my ex-wife had brought back from Japan. It had stood on an end table next to the living room couch.

    The footsteps paused. I stilled myself and listened. They resumed, climbing the stairs...

    My eyes scanned the bedroom. I realized I was trapped: no windows, no closets. Even the bed frame was closed off at the sides.

    The footsteps were in the hall. I didn't dare move. Maybe when the door opened I could run past them? I wasn't sure, and at my age, less willing to try.

    The footsteps paused behind my door. The doorknob shifted and as the door opened, I tried to scream...
     
    Last edited: Jul 23, 2021
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  9. AtomicTango

    AtomicTango Temporarily Suspended

    This was my attempt to write something in the style of Cormac McCarthy, ie by using obscenely long run-on sentences and extremely elaborate prose. I would love to write something longer in this style some day.

    Petrified fingers, misshapen bodies and gnarled limbs gave the impression they were grown from the earth like root vegetables, with skin as ashen as the mottled sky or black as boot leather, with hairless faces scrunched and squeezed with sickly frogspawn eyes swirling and swivelling loose in their sockets, one hard knock away from plopping out as they studied the man before them, one of them dancing a merry jig forwards, hooting like a primordial ape, at once both a vestigial outcrop of evolution transplanted to the here and now and a living aspect of everything that the waters of mankind's feeble destiny would eventually flow into, and then they raised their lumpen blob of wood to the sky like a conductor of the orchestra that plays at the end of all things and for a second it seemed like the effort of the action would make them topple over as they forced out a wail up from the cavern within their atrophied chest and out between splintered teeth as yellow as they were green and as hungry as the ceaseless ravenous cascade of cosmic entropy, but they did not topple, their song carrying on the lingering breeze to reach the pairs of gangrenous and puckered holes possessed by each of their compatriots and allowing the assault to commence.
     
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  10. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    Read Gothic Violence by Mike Ma if you can get it in your country.

    He uses the same technique whether he knows it or not.

    Just long strings. Very useful.
     
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  11. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    If you knew who I was.


    You’d hate me.


    Your blood pressure would spike.


    You’d need to pop a pill.


    But don’t worry. Please hate me.


    I only speak what I know.


    And I know what I know is true.


    We live ; D.
     
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  12. ProminentPosterior

    ProminentPosterior Fapstronaut

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    I bought some short shorts and they’re comfortable
     
  13. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    Sorry Officer, I'm just driving to sober up.

    I prefer the term road soda

    School zones are the quietest part of the city during the day. I didn't want to scare anyone with my driving.

    I've only had 2 drinks.

    I would prefer not to step out of the car.
     
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  14. He couldn't get it out of his mind. The desperate heave, the surprised cry, the way the body flipped over with a springy elastic motion the slipper on the left foot flying off, and then continued into nothingness as the body disappeared below the balcony: still shouting; the splat, then silence. A dread gripped him and squeezed his heart, he started shaking. He hadn't meant to, he hadn't meant to.

    The next several hours were a blur. He didn't remember exiting the flat. He didn't hear the buzz of horror from the people gathering on the sidewalk. Sirens sounded as he walked down the sidewalk to where?- he knew not where. The world was a horror. The horizon hung as if on a hinge like a painting, and all the figures in the this painting were like plastic figures hurrying here and there, a sickly pantomime of runners, sweat glistening of their plastic skin and grotesque dogs on leashes walking across vinyl pavement and peeing on enameled tree trunks. It was too much, too horrible, the deadness of it all. He had to shut it out. He closed his eyes but in the blankness behind his eyes even more terrible shapes formed and grew and clamored for his attention. He moaned, and a desperate thought flashed through his mind. The bridge. Yes: the bridge.

    He was surprised then when a change in temperature registered by his skin snapped him out of his desperate reveries and he looked around to find himself in a building, a woman at a desk sitting in front of him with a bored looked in her eyes while a policewoman passed him on the right, open the door and letting in some of the hot summer air. Not the bridge. The police station. Yes: the police station. Why was he there? And why was he trembling so bad?

    In the horror of the past minutes or hours- he knew not which- the extreme terror that now overwhelmed him had driven the reason for this terror from his shrinking mind. He did not know why he was there or why a terrible blackness was threatening to drown him.

    But when the secretary asked "Hello, what can I do for you?" he remembered. He thrilled with the remembrance and his knees buckled and he tumbled to the ground. The woman, with a cry of surprise, rushed over help him. The cry. The same cry. Her face floated into view. He couldn't look at her. Turned away his head.

    "I..." he began, "I..." And then a desperate pressure blew up inside him and the words came rushing out "I murdered a woman. I murdered Rebecca Chance."

    There was a long silence.

    "You murdered me?" the secretary asked.
     
    Last edited: Jul 23, 2021
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  15. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    American Psycho vibes from this one.

    Good prose.

     
  16. Enjoyed that movie, but wasn't thinking of that lol. Now that I think of it it fits pretty closely.

    Consciously, though, I was channeling Raskolnikov from Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.
     
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  17. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    I have that book, and I keep putting off reading it fully. I definitely can see that too.
     
  18. modern milarepa

    modern milarepa Fapstronaut

    Carol island
    What a beautiful island I have already slept with 30 different Carols and I haven't slept at all in 7 days. Why are they all called like that? A popular name given the name of the island I guess. But I can't take it anymore; I haven't slept in 7 days for having non-stop sex.

    I close the door
    Someone knocks
    I open

    -Hi I'm Carol I think you are cute and handsome- says a new girl
    -You flatter me but I'm tired- I reply. She tried to close the door but she won't let me, we struggle she takes out a paintbrush and stabs me with it in the heart, I bleed out and suffer slowly.

    I die
    I wake up sweating
    Someone knocks

    -Hi I'm Carol, you are cute and handsome- says another new girl
    She comes in and we make love, she leaves. I close the door and someone knocks
    Another Carol "I think you are cute and handsome"
    ¡What's going on! I think, I try not to let her in, she grabs me, takes out a paintbrush and stabs me in the heart

    I die
    I come back to life
    They knock on the door again….
     
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  19. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    Fucking Carol.
     
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  20. FirefromAbove

    FirefromAbove Fapstronaut

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    We move silently through the grasses. The wind the only whispers, our black fatigues sleeping with the dark night.

    We move silently over the cobblestone, our shadows dancing with the shadows of the houselights. A back door kept slightly open, it moves on its own, as we're shades, demons from another dimension. Our rifles, our scythes. Three of us, a trinity of reapers.

    Messi scores and the crowd screams as we pass the passed-out guard in the living room, and up the stairs like mice, no sounds.

    Whispers from behind closed doors, nothing from us.

    His door is left a creek open, he doesn't like surprises. He doesn't expect crows.

    "Chah...." "Chah..." "Chah..." "Chah..."

    We chant, we summon him as he leaves his room with a foggy face.

    Our fires ignite, he drops, and we leave. Like crows, flying out the window.
     

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