Flash Fiction Challenge: Another Story In Three Sentences

Last week’s challenge: “That’s My New Band Name.”

I want to give someone a copy of 500 Ways To Tell A Better Story.

As always, you gotta dance for your dinner, though. It’s fuck-or-walk around these parts, hoss.

Put your pants on. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a metaphor. Or something.

ANYWAY.

You’re going to tell a story in three sentences.

You will post this story here, in the comments below.

Keep it under 100 words.

You only get one entry.

I will give away three copies of the book in either ePub, MOBI or PDF format. Your choice.

You’ve got one week. Due by noon EST, July 6th, 2012.

Three sentences. Beginning, middle, end, 1, 2, 3.

Do it.

169 comments

  • Once the time machine was ready I did what I’d been dreaming of since I was fifteen. I went back to the 1990s and convinced George Lucas to make more Star Wars movies.

    I am so, so sorry.

  • The king died, and then the queen died. The estate got tied up in probate. When the revolution came, the lawyers ended up in the guillotines.

  • No more.

    She moved in shadows, armed with bacon, toward her target.

    A nylon leash, her promise of a better life, replaced the heavy chain, and they disappeared into the darkness.

  • Hope I’m in time for a last-minute entry. Ninety words, and all the fun I could muster.

    “Jake Sergeant found himself for the first time confronted with the singular majesty of the void, the tableau of nebulae and stars stretched out before him, set against the printer’s ink of dark matter and who-knew-what. For a moment, the bastard son of seafarer upon seafarer, and most likely a witch or two, wondered if perhaps God were something along the lines of a squid and this his jet-black magnum opus. It should not, perhaps, have surprised him then when the whole of space itself turned to him and blinked.”

  • Not that fictional a story, as I watched this play out with a friend at my local one evening. Was interesting.
    ————————————————–

    Moira glared as her former friend trash talked her, following the bitch’s tirade easily across the noisy dance floor.
    Sheila suddenly noticed her watching and covered her lips in panic, but it was too late.
    Moira nodded and signed back with a raised finger – a bit of universal sign language that even Sheila got.

  • “It Is Only the Beginning”

    The writer travailed in his dank vault. His story was his final chance
    to escape from the Fates’ prison; it was either live free or die
    trying. Submitted, his bestseller’s reproduction was delivered to his
    skeletal hands; it is only the beginning.

  • I am a very bad man, and I’m damn proud of that. And hell, of course that means that bones get broken. But hey, you gave up your right to argue the moment you sprouted antlers.

      • WINNERS.

        Folks, email me at terribleminds at gmail dot com — I’ll get you a free book!

        I chose five instead of three and even THAT was hard. Such great entries here.

        ***

        Everything is dark as night at three in the afternoon, and the whole world is melting into the ground. It seems selfish, but all I can think is: I’ll never fuck Marilyn Monroe. Somewhere, a mushroom cloud kisses the sky. – Robert Thomas

        Shirley drew a line on the hardwood floor in the middle of the bedroom with a yellow magic marker.
        Bob stepped across it.
        Shirley shot him. – Robert Bucchianeri

        They said pigs couldn’t fly. Then my gene-splicer changed everything. Man, there’s shit everywhere now. – Woodge

        I walked across the street to say goodbye to my mother. I didn’t see the bus. Goodbye mother. – Aubrey

        The king died, and then the queen died. The estate got tied up in probate. When the revolution came, the lawyers ended up in the guillotines. – Allyson

  • Great picks, Chuck
    This has really inspired me to work on saying more with less; and a good narrative stricture to practice it with.
    Really impressed with the work here

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