55Friday: The “Pop Song 89/Stand/Orange Crush” Edition

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This morning, I stumbled in to a rather important meeting nearly twitching from twin deficits in sleep and kcals. I furrowed my brow, willed myself to focus…and found myself talking about nanofiction, of all things. The man I was meeting with had googled me and he wanted to know what the deal was with “that 55 thing” he had seen on my blog. As I hastily prepared an answer, I mentally swore at myself that if I used the word “meme” more than once, I’d deny myself food for such lame blogginess. I am pleased to report [burp] that I did not suffer from starvation today.

Buzzwords aside, I was struck by the look on the man’s face when I told him about Hemingway’s famous piece of flash fiction, all six words of it. He was concomitantly fascinated and appreciative, as all good readers are. It was at that very moment that I thought of Jai and nearly drowned in 55-related guilt. 😉

Since we’ve done this and this, I figured that today would be an apposite day for quelque-chose similar. Oui? Oui. We will make others green with envy at all of our brilliant fun. As always, you are welcome to comPLETEly ignore my thematic suggestions and doowutchyalike. Just do it in the comments below, mmmkay? And remember, you might be hungover from too much guiness, but you can still string together 55 words, my out-of-practice leprechauns. 😉 Seek sympathy for headaches, nausea, dehydration and lost pots of gold elsewhere– we’ve got fiction to write!:+:

Title backstory: Seriously, do I HAVE to? Ain’t it OBVIOUS? I even gave you a photographic hint!

31 thoughts on “55Friday: The “Pop Song 89/Stand/Orange Crush” Edition”

  1. Follow me, donÂ’t follow me… We are agents of the free IÂ’ve had my fun and now itÂ’s time to Serve your conscience overseas

  2. Once I had a love and it was a gas Soon turned out had a heart of glass Seemed like the real thing, only to find much o’ mistrust Love’s gone behind Once I had a love and it was divine Soon found out I was losing my mind And I walked away, far away.

  3. The Cereal Killer hid in the tall grass of the green colour; he wearing green camouflage; his face painted green. With patience he waiting. Beautiful girl with green eyes coming; eating lunch of Green Spinach. He creep on her and slit her throat with precision; alas, her blood not Green.

  4. Morrissey vs. Bob Marley

    MOZ: Interesting drug The one that you took Tell the truth – it really helped you An interesting drug The one that you took God, it really really helped you You wonder why weÂ’re only half-ashamed ?

    Because enough is too much! …and look around … …can you blame us ? can you blame us ?

    BOB: Excuse me while I light my spliff; (spliff) Good God, I gotta take a lift: (lift) From reality I just can’t drift; (drift) That’s why I am staying with this riff. (riff)

            Take it easy    (easy skankin');
        Lord, I take it easy! (easy skankin');
        Take it easy    (easy skankin');
        Got to take it easy (easy skankin').
        See: we're takin' it easy   (ooh-wah-da da-da)
        We taking it slow, (ooh-wah-da da-da)
        Takin' it easy  (easy);
        Got to take it slow (slow-slow)
        So take it easy (easy skankin' - da-da-da-da-da-da)
        Wo-oh, take it easy (easy skankin')
        Take it easy (easy skankin' - da-da-da-da-da-da)
        Take it easy. (easy skankin')

  5. Hello Anna,

    It was at that very moment that I thought of Jai and nearly drowned in 55-related guilt. 😉

    You don’t have to feel guilty about anything — this is your blog and you can write (or not write) whatever you want to. We’re all just guests here 😉

    But thank you very much for thinking of me and resurrecting 55Friday again 🙂

    Some 55s from me in the following messages…..

  6. Jade eyes sparkling, Heer leaned out over the balcony, the intricate stonework of the haveli contrasting vividly with the cloudless blue sky above. Laughing, she poured the rose petals from her hennaed hands onto her lover waiting below.

    Ranjha closed his eyes and let them rain gently onto his raised face, perfumed blessings from heaven.

  7. Ghiyas-ud-din Tughlaq defied the saint.

    The third incarnation of Delhi arose, its walls and thirteen gateways an intimidating proclamation of royal power.

    Having desired the builders for his reservoir, the Sufi declared that only shepherds would ever live there.

    700 years later, the prophecy proved correct, and the name of Nizam-ud-din still thunders in qawaalis.

  8. Jade eyes sparkling, Heer leaned out over the balcony, the intricate stonework of the haveli contrasting vividly with the cloudless blue sky above. Laughing, she poured the rose petals from her hennaed hands onto her lover waiting below. Ranjha closed his eyes and let them rain gently onto his raised face, perfumed blessings from heaven.

    Jai, in the words of Paris Hilton – that was HOT!

  9. Thanks Sonia 😉 Here’s one more — split into two 55s due to its length:

    Roopraj Lal eased into his antique wooden chair beside the gate, looking around at the deserted Marwari mansion. The extravagant murals on the inner walls were still visible, albeit faded; depictions of Krishna and Rama in green, blue and maroon, a testament to the skill of 18th century artists fresh from the palaces of Jaipur.

    The magnificence of Shekhawati had become renowned in the neighbouring royal states. A palace on every street, six stories high and with four courtyards; a bold embodiment of the merchants’ vast wealth on the caravan route into northern India.

    Half-awake now, the old man could almost hear long-gone families calling to him across the centuries.

  10. Vanquising, vain and vampirish vengeance vanishes under venomous veins everytime Veena looks at the venus like face of her little girl. How can she thirst for the vacuum of volatile and victorious violation that will result from Victor’s death and still long for the velvety feel of her daughter’s hair? Was she a study of opposites?

    Yes…I saw V for Vendetta last night and am suffering from the complex. Hehe.

  11. I stopped, stared and wondered if you would ever lay down on me – half-naked like your look-alike – if all I wore were a pair of CK underwear and a shaven chest. Probably not, I thought and quickly scurried past the large billboard in Times Sq.

  12. She had wanted me to have the keys to her apt, and arranged to meet me at lunch. I watched her walk out of her office, a friend in tow and an imperceptible smile playing on her face. She tried hard not to stare. She came close, stopped, turned to her friend and said proudly -“This is MY son, just came from the US”.

  13. The Cereal Killer of the people feel sad. He feel lonely in middle of crowd. All peoples busy going to work. No work for cereal killer; the killing for the week is done. Killing peoples is easy. But, killing time difficult. He go to internet and do his weekly 55.

  14. 🙂

    He sat staring into the mocking glow of the computer screen – defeated yet again by another flash fiction Friday challenge. He hit the refresh button and a string of sublime verses by the poet appeared. Green with envy, he shook his fist at the screen and screamed – “Jai Singh, how do you do it?”

    🙂

  15. The two armies faced each other across the grassy battlefield. Heavily-armoured horsemen, dozens of rows deep, were lined in formations stretching to the mountains on either side.

    A lone warrior rode out; drawing his sword, he hurled the curved weapon at the opposing forces, the blade embedding itself in the ground at the General’s feet.

    The villain unwrapped the scroll tied to the emerald hilt, and read the Persian calligraphy:

    “Badmash, I see your name is appropriate. Unleash your quill, dipped in the ink of infamy, and meet the challenge of the fair maiden Anna. Fifty-five words stand between you and the torment of Hell. Your defiant nemesis, Jai Singh.”

  16. Sorry I’m getting in on this kinda late. I wrote this on Friday…

    A shadow enveloped the sleeping child, blocking the moonÂ’s glow. Gently, the elephant nudged the boy awake with its trunk.

    “Take me to her”, he whispered meekly.

    The elephant delicately wrapped its trunk around the boy and galloped towards the moon, finally taking flight into darkness.

    The boy was never to be heard from again.

  17. Beauty had traversed an endless sky on the wings of a pliant rainbow and landed on the grass at the leprechaunÂ’s feet. The pot of gold heaved as the goosebumps on her arms sprouted into a profusion of fecund vegetation entwining over her limbs. The treasure burst out, covering the earth with a golden glow.

  18. TheKingSingh: Nice 55, although I don’t quite get it. Is it based on some film/story/Indian mythology, or is it just a poetic flight of fancy on your part ?

    Badmash: I liked your 55 too (and thank you for the back-handed compliment) — I hope you realised the one I posted immediately afterwards was meant light-heartedly too 😉

  20. I finally got to writing mine:

    The Colour of Money Lush green grasslands appeared before him, a mirage against the spreading dessert, a result of relentless drought coupled with mismanagement of development funds conveniently lining the pockets of politicians in the city.

    They used to call it the green city in the sun. Now upcountry cows graze on weeds on roundabouts, the city re-named Night-robbery.

    Jealousy Rumor has it that she had a sway to her hips, a lilt to her voice, a presence about her. She clung to corners of the mind, invoking visions of nirvana to be found within her that made her near impossible to forget.

    I just wish my wife would leave her memory behind for me.

  21. Rumor has it that she had a sway to her hips, a lilt to her voice, a presence about her. She clung to corners of the mind, invoking visions of nirvana to be found within her that made her near impossible to forget.

    yup… everyone needs a bovine erotic fixation. moooooo

    I just wish my wife would leave her memory behind for me.


    🙂

  22. hey kd – no offence taken i hope – great twist in the tail in your short – it’s silly season here – i’d been thinking of people contracting chikungukya through cow-bites just a little while back…

  23. hey I got a laugh, besides I’m a firm believer that once something is written, readers have the right to interpret their own meanings (intended by the writer or not).

  24. Well, since we’re being smutty…..

    She had never experienced such passion; over and over again, all night, with toe-curling climaxes every time. Her lover’s stamina had been incredible; so unexpected. She regretted all those years wasted rebuffing his advances.

    Lying next to Miss Piggy, Kermit smugly puffed on his Havana cigar. Once you’ve gone green, everybody knows where you’ve been…..

  25. i’d been thinking of people contracting chikungukya through cow-bites just a little while back…

    What is Chikungukya?

  26. What is Chikungukya?

    it is a dark and disturbing tale, the tale of the chikungukya. on the third morning hour of the third day of the third lunar month an evil creature plods the rich loam of where the zambezi meets the ocean. it is the dreaded cowkula. those who survive the attack of the cowkula carry the mark on their plump matokos for the rest of their lives. that mark is the chikungukya.
    -thunder clap-

  29. Nice one Dhaavak..those matakos won’t remain plump too long after the chik attack.

    Thanks for the link DH…I must have missed that posting that day!

  30. Okay, in the interests of good taste I should probably compensate for the Muppet shenanigans described in my post #24 😉

    Raj lay on his back in the field, the soft grass stretching to the horizon. He stared up at the clouds slowly drifting across the summer sky.

    The tranquillity was hypnotic, therapeutic. No past except for the distant memories of a carefree childhood, no future except for the warm August afternoon that should never end.

  31. Massively delinquint 55 fiction……

    I have three crisp green twenties in my purse. And how the hell am I supposed to change my life with that amount of funds?

    I hand the cabbie a wad of twenties. I approach the door; I knock. “I’m home,” I say to my startled mother. “God!” she says.