 | | | Subject: Miscellaneous 42-word stories
Posted Jan 2, 2012 by minorvogonpoet
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3
  | | That must have been some octopus! 
Here are three of my 42 word stories.
I stand on the train, wedged between seats. On one side sits a man reading the Financial Times, on the other a woman working on her laptop. Everyone is quiet and reserved. I have a sudden urge to start screaming and shouting.
The ramblers toil up the mountain slope, at first through alpenrose, later between rocky outcrops, stopping to look at high peaks. At last, they reach the summit and find a mountain hut, full of Austrians who came up on the cable car.
The slippers were the worst. They stood beside the back door: a pair of old red things which she wore around the house. When he picked them up and threw them in the dustbin, he sat in the nearest chair and wept.
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| | | Subject: Miscellaneous 42-word stories
Posted Jan 3, 2012 by Solnushka (Foundation)
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11
| | I do like the octopus one, Paulh. Hehehe. And all great mimesthink alike. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
That third story is very powerful, Minorvogonpoet. The word 'things' jarred a bit though. I was wondering if the Australian 'thongs' was widely understood enough to work instead. Still, great story. The Second one made me grin too.
The bathtime one is splendidly evocative, RJR. I do like a good bath.
This was supposed to be my poem for the Gift challenge last month, mvp, but I couldn't get it to work as a poem.
“A girl,” said the Fairy. “Grace, modesty, and beauty.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Intelligence. Independence. Ambition”.
“Happiness! A Prince!” She was adamant.
“Fulfilment,” I countered. “Cats!”
But in the end I bought toys, cheap, plastic and noisy from Asda.
Pink, of course.
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| | | Subject: Miscellaneous 42-word stories
Posted Jan 5, 2012 by Pelegrhino
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18
| | story # 1
Stones in the orchard standing tall
between beds of flowers and grass,
hiding their pain and sadness from my eyes,
but not my heart, as tears form in my eyes,
as if to hide, also, the names of people passed away.
Graveyard.
Story # 2 (and on a brighter note)
I stood there watching as the blue bird pecked its beak on a pile of leaves in the garden. It was playing, happily twisting rustling clumps of raw life from the tops of trees. Or was it not, but searching for food?
Story # 3 (2(42) syllables in... iambic hexameter?, that makes it 12 syllables per line 7 lines)
/ - / - / - / - / - / -
Oh darling won't you sit again with me tonight
and we will talk once more of happy days of life
just try remember what we used to paint inside
our souls cojourned in peace and graceful harmony.
Do not forget the times we laughed the times we cried,
just smile and think about the things you left behind,
and those you did take with you, look at them once more.
Story # 4
Raining inside my head, water gets in my eyes.
It's hard to see the path
because it's so dark, and the water on the windshield.
Start looking around,
Don't wait for the rain to pass,
because the rain
is in our heads.
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