55Friday: The “Doowutchyalike”-edition


It’s been an eventful 24 hours, hasn’t it? The end of an “era”, is how some of you readers generously termed it on various social media sites. It’s really just the end of a site that was once bigger in every way than it currently is. What was once a “must-read-daily” turned in to an “Eh, I’ll poke my head in weekly”-sort of a blog and that’s perfectly understandable. The party has been over for a little while. But while many of you wish we would stay around for at least those weekly visits (you are creatures of routine, aren’t you!), that wouldn’t be right.

We can, however, resurrect SOMETHING weekly: the 55Friday flash fiction challenge. See? I didn’t ignore ALL your tweeted pleas.

I know in the past that I picked a theme to help you start your engines, but somehow, I don’t think that will be necessary this time. Write about whatever you like– just contain yourself in 55 words when you do it. Ready? For old time’s sake…go.

7 thoughts on “55Friday: The “Doowutchyalike”-edition

  1. His feet tingled as they stepped on old, sacred ground. It was like walking back in time, illuminating memories that had faded a long time ago.

    It has not changed, but he is not the same.Yet, this place will always be a special monument. From mutiny to movement, he learned that all was possible.

  2. man you guys are done? I remember first coming across this site in 2005/2006…. it gave me a sense of empowerment and development… This site was like an adored childhood teddy bear, whom i spent years with and then eventually as time past grew separated from… and now and then when I stumble on it…. its all over… you guys did an amazing job with sepia mutiny…. take care, be well, peace….

  3. Kid is chattering in the back seat about a fight in the preschool. Hubby is narrating inter-office politics while punctuating it with rush hour traffic swearing. She stares out of the window and remembers an old pop song by Nelly Furtado, ” Why do all good things come to an end ?”

  4. She was screaming. He was screaming. Everyone was screaming. The end was near. Tears, pain, separation. Yesterday’s comfort and silence was gone. Now, chaos of voices everywhere. Why, why, why?

    Decisions were made. The time had come. All good things…

    The wailing newborn lamented its new life. There is nothing left now but to grow.

  5. Sitting on the sacred rock, he waited for the familiar sensations to take over. The exhilirating essence of a golden youth to flood around him, making him feel invincible once again. He eagerly awaited the sensual embrace of his beloved moonsong. Nothing happened. Numb and jaded, he realised that time had moved on forver. He wept.