I passed out after work yesterday, with this very window still open and a pending 55Friday languishing. My bad. I would normally feel a lot worse about this, but such an unintended delay means one thing: I can publicly wish someone whom I adore a very Happy Birthday. If you don’t already read Venial Sin, you are depriving yourself of some of the best blog on the internets. He’s an erstwhile resident of my Chocolate City who currently makes London an even hotter place to be and his blog is genius. (No pressure!) Happy Birthday, gorgeous. 🙂
Since I’ve slobbered all over him virtually, let’s start my run-down of the best examples of flash fiction from last week with Sin himself. He had no need to self-deprecate before introducing the following:
“No!” the lawyer yelled into the phone. “I don’t care if it WAS Valentine’s Day, “life partner” was not meant to apply to a cellmate. This isnÂ’t the path to true love, no matter how slim your options may seem.”
Pause.
Beat.
Sigh.
“Fine, I’ll bring you candy on the 14th for…”Big Mick” is it?” [link]
Next up, one of Nina’s 55s made me smirk happily:
The painting was titled “Agape,” and depicted the God of Trite having intercourse with the God of Sexual Starvation, nude. The Valentines Fundamentalists rioted, but the Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Jews and Atheists finally united in common cause, cancelling out this most cancerous religion. The work sold for $2 billion, and everyone lived happily ever after. [link]
Fellow spelling-stickler Sirc penned a scathing 55:
Good mourning babe :), she texts. Still swimming or Barely stayin afloat in a sea of cheapnfree champagne reveries, He writes back, What’s so Good about Mourning? She writes back that, Every day is the First day of your life 😉 Why are Bad Spellers so drawn to unfounded optimism like lice to immigrant public school kids? [link]
Anyone who drops the k-bomb is going to get mad love from me ;), DDiA:
EvEr SiNcE wE stalked each other on Xanga You gave me anon. eprops; filled my Dreams with kaleidoscopic manga, I’ve wanted to buy you dil-shaped balloons. Now you will call me yo babydaddy, yayy! And me you snookums. Hug, kiss, And stop traffic with aww-inspiring PDA. Common bayyybee shake that kundi I’ll be your munda, you my mundi.[link]
This week? Write whatever you please. I toyed with different themes, ranging from “Jeopardy” (where I was going to have you all end your 55s in the form of a question) to “Crime and Punishment” (where you 55 regarding suitable punishments for Salman Khan). In the end, I chose none of the above. As always, leave your masterpiece or a link to it in the comments below. We’ll love it, promise.
Anna, Anna..How can u praise Nina without acknowledging my post? My feelings are hurt 🙁 What time is Oprah on?
Awww, beige-y. Yours was imaginative, too. I liked it but it was so short! Granted, I trust you writers, so I don’t check for exact word count every time, but after months of this, I can usually eyeball a “55” and tell if it’s under or over. 😐
Increasingly, his simple reality came to resemble his image in the burnished screens and popular stories – there was nothing the hero could do wrong. The people adored him, indulging him like a little child. When the verdict came, he feigned relief, secretly expecting that they would come again to his aid. Who… was King David?
My story was a tribute to yours, BS, thus so was Anna’s compliment.
Anna,
This is getting boring – i.e.55Friday thingy. Time to pull the plug on it IMO and end our misery.
Pusphinder Singh
with all due respect (and IMO, pushy, presumptuous people deserve very little): you are wrong. your views are dutifully noted but they aren’t popular. my suggestion for you is, if you don’t like Friday55, don’t read it.
the people who want, ask for, berate me at my birthday and write me hatemail if i DON’T put up a 55 outnumber you 10-to-1. so kindly slow your roll, know your role and try and accept that your preferences aren’t what this blog revolves around, as harsh as that reads.
this is like that guy who pointlessly agitated for meetups in orlando (wtf?) on behalf of “left-out desis” everywhere– seriously, who appointed either “pup” or orlando-fan as our unwanted spokesmen? why are people with the wrong judgment usually the ones who deludedly think they have the right to pronounce their opinions?
Because you like the word ‘kaleidoscopic’ so much ? 🙂
For the innocents who have died on both sides of our present-day battlefield…..
The Emperor marched on Chittorgarh, his army 350,000 strong.
They faced a resistance that was legendary. The Rajputs inflicted 200,000 fatalities before finally succumbing.
Akbar repaid their defiance with the slaughter of 30,000 civilians.
Crusade or jihad, such a victory is Pyrrhic. Damned by history, yet the cost to one’s soul will be immeasurably greater.
interesting……just happened to post some 55 microfiction this am, before heading here for my daily darshan of sepia. here are my latest efforts.
Anna,Nina – Its all good. And my story was 55 words long, you just have to read between the lines 😉
After 8 years, as I walked to my barbershop until I was 18, I looked forward to the smell of Old Spice and Brylcreem , Filmfare magazines and folded newspapers, primping young men and old men talking politics.
I reached my destination to find a steel and glass tower where once stood a row of shops and my past.
The hotel room smelled like sex, sweat and frustration. They dressed quietly, backs to each other, wishing their counterpart would disappear before they turned around. Finally, he got up and left without saying a word. She went into the bathroom and, avoiding her own gaze in the mirror, threw up violently.
He saw the roadkill before he registered what it was – a dog, cruelly crushed by the weight of at least one automobile. Once it had undoubtedly humped legs, now it humped the asphalt forever, holding the road in a splayed leg embrace. He thought to himself, “now I know what my heart looks like”.
A true story, from this morning’s brunch:
The gay boy had a crush on the cute orthodox jewish boy who looked like Tobey Maguire. He (boy #2) had a crush on the lesbian activist, who, while Jewish was reform. She loved the first boy too much to hurt him by hooking up with the second. So they all remained friends.
I quite enjoy 55 Fridays. While I don’t often contribute, I usually read them.
“It will be great,” said Mr. Green. “We can spend more time together as a family.” “Auuggh!” the kids groaned. The little one let his body slip off of the couch and onto the floor for emphasis. Mr. and Mrs. Green looked at each other in exasperation. “Seriously kids, Kansas is a really nice place.”
It had been almost a year. She’d been waiting for him to realize that he wanted to put her on a ramshackle pedestal and make her his goddess. Lakshmi, mistress of cardboard boxes, dog litter and white silent spaces. A Husband and an exercise ball to do unmentionable things against. “Say when and I’ll come”.
She moans and writhes in the covers screaming your name and tearing at your hair, her nails leaving a fiery trace down your back. She kisses you passionately and whispers sweet nothings, wet, hot, torrid and sensual, into your ear.
She’s with you to be with another. Too bad for him: first come first served.
Cliff Hangers Whitewater love rushed down the valley slamming against underwater rocks, some smooth, dull, others razor sharp, caressed into being by the constant flow of h2o. Fast. Furious. Cliché filled sparks and fireworks. Pitfalls loomed beneath. Life, like a camera light, flashed.
He jumped off, and the cord bounced. He wasnÂ’t sure thatÂ’s what he wanted.
The serial Killer of the people wait for nextest victim in dark black ally. He smoke cigar, puff out smoke, clean nails with his knife. Beautiful girl come to ally simply. He jump on her, SWISH, SWOOSH, many bloody pieces. Serial Killer go home after hard day at work and do 55 crunches for fitness.
She gazes in the mirror this morning seeing a reflection that she doesnÂ’t recognize. It is someone deeper, more vibrant, exuding strength, confidence and moxie. It is too much for her to see, and she wimpers back slowlyÂ…following the steps that were laid out for her in life, rather than her finding her own path.
They gathered in cities worldwide, crowds of thousands claiming to represent over a billion more.
Every week, increasing numbers joined the bandwagon, a competition to demonstrate the greatest piety, the greatest anger.
Repeated outrages by jihadists, acting in the name of their religion, had not generated such an outpouring of fury.
Watching CNN, Osama laughed.
Screams for retribution echoed across the planet.
In the land of the former colonisers, sons of immigrants openly demanded the beheadings of the transgressors.
Some even worked towards revolution, the suicidal miscalculations of stubborn European journalists having united them with their hesitant brothers more than they could possibly have hoped.
Oil poured onto flaming infernos.
Did Mohammad truly know what he would unleash ?
On the battlefield of Kurukshetra, did Krishna quietly contemplate the millennia ahead ?
Did Guru Gobind Singh foresee what would happen, 300 years in the future ?
And are the Sufi saints, watching from Paradise, now weeping, their faith desecrated by its most ardent disciples ?
February, 1989. Some Midwestern highway. Vehicle carrying boisterous kids and 2 weary parents.
Dad loses patience and makes good on his threat to pull over and administer corporal punishment.
15 minutes later. Back on the road. Sulky silence. Then the oldest child defiantly chortles, “I was wearing my snow pants!! I didn’t feel anything!! HA!”
She thought about their blog and sighed in weighty frustration. They were like the cool clique at school you never really belonged to, wanted to hate, but stared at in begrudging admiration. What would it be like to be truly mutinous? she thought as she pecked away at her keyboard eagerly awaiting their next post.
Jai Singh: philosopher, poet – wah! 🙂
He was extremely annoyed. WHY wouldn’t she agree with his views? His explanation was clear, logical, supported by empirical evidence and very wittily presented. But nothing would dissipate this poser and her thoroughly backward preconceptions! Arghhhhhhhhhh!
Life is not easy for a keyboard warrior battling in the big bad world of web forums and blogs.
Badmash,
Thanks for your reply — just my own thoughts on current world events.
I’ve just checked out your own blog too — very well-designed, some excellent articles there (both humorous and thought-provoking).
I loved the Tagore quote too 😉
“She walked away from her best friend then, for a reason that holds no value in her life now, time flew past, finally she made that make up call, she had the faith she would be forgiven unconditionally for her disappearance….that one late call reversed all misunderstandings and today both believe better late than never!!”