55Friday: The “One Sentence Story” Edition

I hadn’t logged in to my del.icio.us for a while; when I did so today, one of the “popular” links on the main page caught my eye.

One Sentence – True stories, told in one sentence. [link]

Since I’m the resident doyenne of fast fiction (ironic, innit?), I was predictably and immediately interested.

As soon as I thought, “This might be fun for 55Friday,” your torment was assured. Last week, we had as many haikus as we did examples of nanofiction, so I know you like to change things up a bit. Oh, and to those who wondered out loud why we do this writing-thing/expressed how you’d like to see less of these posts on SM, I have three things to type:

1) Others actually love what you dislike.

2) It’s a tradition! We’re desi, we love rituals and routines!

3) As one of you put it in a very kind email:

I noticed that you haven’t posted a 55Friday topic in a while. I hope you didn’t discontinue it. I love 55Friday because it’s the only time during the week when I’m creative. One day a week, I get to feel like I’m living up to that ever-present new year’s resolution to “write more”, so please bring it back if you can.

So, please ignore this if it doesn’t have any effect on your knickers and move on to something which will– and that’s solid advice for every post you wrinkle your cute little nose at, not just 55Fridays.

Okay, back to one-sentence wonders. The most significant difference between this and our typical 55s? These are supposed to be true, real, non-fiction. I chose a few from the site, to inspire you and help demonstrate what to do. Most of these were plucked from the “Best of” section.

I don’t wish that I had Jesse’s girl…why did he find a woman like this:

She’s ruined half of my music library for me.

Since these are true stories, this one made my heart crack:

I am heart-sick because, like many parents of children with profound disabilities, my most secret and unspoken prayer is “Dear God, please let me outlive my child.”

This (since they’re supposed to be true!) is just wrong :)

The pedestrian looked concerned, as he bounced off the bonnet of my car.

The following reminds me of my little sister; though she pretends to scribble in the air to quickly figure out which her right is, instead of doing what’s below.

I know 18 digits of pi and can recite the quadratic equation, but I still need to make an L with my hand to find out where left is.

This could have been written by one of my closest friends, a quondam lawyer and current SAHM:

I always thought I’d be a type-A career woman my whole life, but there he was on my chest, squirming, blinking, crying, clutching my little finger with all his might.

If this IS a true story, wow:

How fitting it was that my best friend’s abusive husband died a painful death from melanoma of the rectum.

Have a bit o’ humor:

Erik Wennstrom
It was one of those exams that you absolutely must pass if you want to continue in the program, and I failed the set-your-alarm-clock-properly portion.

THIS is for the most unsuitable girl I know:

Recently I realized that I waste my life on the internet … and published this insight in a blog.

Kinda poignant:

I want to hold her to stop her tears, but I know my girlfriend would not appreciate that.

And a final pinch of humor:

Only later did I realize that the taxi driver wasn’t making an obscene gesture, but rather, trying to inform me that I had left a box of takeout on the roof of my car.

See? Wasn’t that swift and yet satisfying? :) Some of you are intimidated by the prospect of writing 55 words which contain an entire story; maybe creating something zimbler, like one sentence will free you from your fears.

Here, the silk ties which will bind your hands, if you so desire:

All stories must be one sentence and one sentence only. Yes, there are ways you can write a gramatically correct sentence that goes on and on and on (hello, semicolon!) but please keep it reasonable. The idea is to tell a story from your life in as little space as possible.
The best One Sentence stories are ones that give the reader a clear picture but also leaves them thinking, “I wonder what happened after that…”
Try to avoid starting your story with “One time…” or “I remember when…” and other similar crutch openings. [link]

If you love what you’ve done and care to submit it to the actual “One Sentence” website where I pulled all of today’s examples from, click here and paste away.

And finally, our standard fine-print:

Obviously, you may ignore this new kink in our virtual writing-orgy and 55 away, especially if you prefer creating fictional stories vs. retelling true ones. We’ll love you and your nanofiction just as much, I promise. The point is to write, right? :)

94 thoughts on “55Friday: The “One Sentence Story” Edition

  1. How ironic that he closed the door on me and opened it for her and I closed it back in return and opened it for someone else and now she closed the door on him HA.

  2. My biggest worry is whether they’ll still need me, still feed me, when I’m 64.

  3. He ran his hands gently down my back, about my hips and up and down my thighs before handing me my boarding pass.

  4. She recoils in horror upon reading this - has she really been fantasizing about meeting someone younger than her son?

  5. Even though its been more than a decade since that terriying ride to the hospital, she still creeps into his room at night to check that her child is breathing.

  6. I muse upon those halcyon times that sparkle iridiscent in my memory, when I was still youthful enough to compete in the spelling bee.

  7. Tonight she waits to speak with her beloved in silence. Once again we will prove all things felt depend upon what is not felt.

  8. “36 MPG! So what do you think?” she said and a few months later, I was sneaking up her driveway, hoping that she had not seen the big red bow driving in.

  9. Sure, that car dealer had been tough, Maya’s dad thought, but he’d really softened up in the last couple of hours after being immersed in boiling water.

  10. He gazed tenderly at her dark eyes, her full lips and at the small hole in her forehead as he blew the smoke off his gun.

  11. I’ve only gotten into one fistfight my entire elementary school career, however I won, but she was pretty tough.

  12. In the beginning there were Adam and Eve and then there was incest and all mankind came from that sin and so GOD is a pervert.

  13. Since no one is doing a 55 today, I thought I quick whip one.

    Before the start “If you come by my city, call me”

    End of First “Next time you visit, could we get some coffee?”

    Halftime “No more Airports or Good bye’s ever again!”

    End of Third “You could not have tied that bow?”

    Final score “The Cigar says it’s a girl!”

    We both won, no overtime.

  14. She was excited to know how great her boss would feel when thrusting with ease once she ordered her new sharpener.

  15. He gazed tenderly at her dark eyes, her full lips and at the small hole in her forehead as he blew the smoke off his gun.

    I’ve already seen Kill Bill:

    You know, Kiddo, I’d like to believe that you’re aware enough even now to know that there’s nothing sadistic in my actions. Well, maybe towards those other… jokers, but not you. No Kiddo, at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic.

    Bill… it’s your baby…

  16. The guys racing on Harleys vroomed by my car making me wish I was on a bike instead of in a boring sedan and a split second later I heard a loud crash and my car ran over something.

  17. As always, I rolled over in the morning to that glowing face, those lustrous hands, and that ghastly shrieking noise from my alarm clock which I’d shut off if I could just find the goddamn snooze button.

  18. He told me he loved me so many times in the past; when I finally found the courage to say it back to him, he walked away.

  19. As George woke up to the mess he’d made in his bed, the realization slowly dawned that his physician had not been questioning the competence of his administration when he said the President suffered from incontinence.

  20. “I can’t feel a damn thing;” she screamed at the man hovering above her, “are you always this gentle, was it the drugs you gave me, or are you just a great dentist?”

  21. I wonder how many children I would have had if I had married him and how many years it would have been before we divorced.

  22. I looked at her and she held my gaze, neither of us willing to admit defeat, until I finally gave in and gave her the one thing she wanted most: catnip.

  23. I used to think I was a people person until I realized that I view all my meaningful relationships as being maintained long-distance over the intimacy of my shiny pink KRAZR, and the friends I’ve surrounded myself with are merely time-passes.

  24. He was dark, muscled, handsome and in uniform and their eyes locked as she walked by him; he looked back and she did too and it was raw and pure; who would know if she took him home on this weekend of healing?

  25. They pushed her towards the figure lying on the bed, “pay your respects, get your blessings” but she cringed and pretended to touch her forehead to the ice-cold feet of her brother’s body as the women wailed and beat their chests.

  26. And then he figured out how he could maintain a perennial presence on his favorite blog, but where in the world was he going to find a thousand monkeys and a thousand computers?

  27. I was filled with infinite joy sleeping next to her and her child – problem was, neither she nor the child was mine.

  28. Rain poured and lightening thundered and the hatred made her wish that when the phone rang it would be the highway patrol telling her that he had had an accident and as she watched the rain through the window with tears in her eyes, the phone’s ring shattered the silence.

  29. Six years later, I sometimes wonder if it’s possible to feel anything at all, ever again.

    I’ve had three postcards published on PostSecret.

    It took my divorce for my family to finally learn how to actually talk to each other respectfully, as adults.

    I did not understand my first encounter with racism when it happened to me, because I was only eight years old, but now the memory fills me with rage and indignation.

    Most good stories can be summed up in one sentence, but unless you’re Rahul, it only makes them seem depressive or poignant.