Misery, Minecraft, mayhem, and more
Since 1987, New Times has insisted that you, too, can become a published writer. In our annual 55 Fiction contest, we ask would-be authors to send us their tiny stories and cross their fingers. In 55 words or fewer, weave a tale full of emotion, description, and surprise. Give us characters and a story arc. It’s tough to do, but some folks have a real knack for it. Others, … not so much.
What started as a local contest has grown into one that receives stories from all over the world. This year’s entries are cheeky, absurd, mysterious, and dangerous. They tell us about life, love, rage, sadness, fantasy, and more. With six judges, we did our darndest to pick the best of the best.
—Camillia Lanham
I Met an Old Lady from Wheeling …
A pleasantly plump 65-plus widow, a connoisseur of limericks, spotted an ad for short stories. Pure whimsy.
There once was a 55 contest.
With rules not subject to protest.
The stronger her courage,
the shorter the verbiage.
With great trepidation,
she damned hesitation.
Not word too absurd and
becoming perturbed.
She pushed the send button.
Karen Underhill
Flagstaff, Arizona
Childhood Friend
After school I walk home with my best friend. I’ve been in love with him since we were 7, but he only sees me as a friend.
“I have a crush on someone,” he says.
“Oh.” I look down. It hurts too much to hear.
“I’m thinking of telling them soon.”
“When?”
“Right about now.”
Douglas Perkins
Ayase, Japan
Married Life at Middle Age
Honey—
Have you seen the here it is.
I can’t find the I found it.
What did you do with the never mind.
Can you help me with got it.
Where did you put the there it is.
Can you I’ll do it.
I can’t I did it.
Where did I put the
whatever.
Robert Pavlik
San Luis Obispo
A Lost Boy
I work for the skies. I retrieve lost things from the human world and display them as constellations, in hopes that when you look up, you will remember. Today, on my first month at work, a small you appeared in my arms. Beaten, stitched, frail, and bony. Gently, I place you on the Orion Belt.
Kohei Kawada
Yokohama, Japan
The Sun Called in Sick
Morro Bay in July. The sun stumbled in around 2. Late. Hungover. Took one look, decided it wasn’t worth it. Left the mess untouched.
The fog clocked in early. Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Covered everything. Like it always does.
Knows the routine. Hides the evidence. Never asks for thanks.
Knows you don’t mean it.
Jim Lowe
Morro Bay
This is a True Story
I knew a strange man
He had a tattoo on his private part
He used it to win bets in bars
When he met a new girl
He would say
I’ll be damned
I have Your Name tattooed on my private part
It didn’t matter what their names were
He would always win the bet
Donna Staub
Ojai
Conscious
They taught us memory’s proof of one’s self, so I trusted mine completely. I remembered my childhood home, my mother’s voice, the dog we adopted in third grade. Then the doctor showed me the file: implanted history, assigned upbringing, fabricated records. “We test identity stability,” they said. I asked who “we” were. They didn’t answer.
Joshua Andrade
Mundelein, Illinois
Minecraft
I went to the store, bought Minecraft, and headed home.
I stole some money from an old man and ran into a pack of wolves. I killed a few sheep that got in my way. I burned a village and smiled as smoke drifted into the sky.
Eventually I got home. And installed Minecraft.
Douglas Perkins
Ayase, Japan
Death to Danny
Me and Danny, Danny and I.
Comrade in Canada, until his demise.
Stabbed in the heart and slashed in the eyes.
His viper corpse dropped, lifeless where he lies.
I didn’t weep, I didn’t cry.
I simply smiled and dropped the knife.
Buried his body in packs of ice.
Me and Danny, Danny and I.
Jayden Hawkins
Glendale Heights, Illinois
Torture
I was bound and tied to the icy chamber.
Pummeled by the wrath of Poseidon, I struggled to break free.
I yelled and cried, but all they did was laugh at me.
Mocked me for my distress, feeding off my pain.
I looked up with pleading eyes.
“It’s just a bath, Max,” my owner said.
Eduardo Mendez
Vernon Hills, Illinois
All the Better to Eat You With
The girl didn’t look up as she set her basket down. “I saw a wolf today!” Granny smiled as the girl continued. “And I’ve been reading about predators. Did you know there’s a spider that eats its mother after it’s born? Well, I followed its example, but I’m still hungry. That’s why I came here.”
Tommy Millard
Prairie Village, Kansas
Drifting
Ray’s wife was resting peacefully in bed.
She had Neptune-blue eyes, calm waves through a storm. She was his lifeline.
But it was getting late, so he let go of her hand. He watched the waves still on the monitor. White coats murmured as she drifted away forever.
And the ocean filled his eyes.
Kaima Akpuokwe
Aurora, Illinois
In the Beginning
I was walking Brad, my pit bull, when I saw God in the park.
Lanky with straggly gray hair.
“I’m God,” He yelled.
Nearby, a teenage girl in tree pose locked eyes with Him and smiled.
“God conquers all,” He shouted.
Brad bared his teeth, growling.
God was no dummy: He turned and sprinted away.
Jon Slotnick
Atascadero
Oro
They came from everywhere to see it shine in the light, glistening with a golden-yellow hue that shone with endless possibility. One by one, we each got to hold it, raising it up to the sky and imagining the life we could build with it. Just think of how sweet the tamales would be. Elote.
Aaron Izek
Burbank
Status Quo
The day after seemed like a normal one until …
Coffee made him sleep,
Food made him hungry,
Sun made him cold and pale,
Air made him gasp,
Work made him happy,
Music made him frown, and sex made him sad.
Then she made him cry, and he sighed in relief.
Colin Jones
SLO
Generations
“I saw you steal those cigarettes,” the old lady said to the young thief blowing smoke rings outside the 7-Eleven.
“Yeah, well thanks for not snitching on me.”
“I still might,” she said.
“Go ahead, but you’d better do it fast ’cause those Butterfinger bars you shoved up your sleeves are melting fast.”
Catherine Gardner
Arch Cape, Oregon
Shock Till you Drop
Bound to his chair, Teddy awaited the moment that they flipped the lever and stopped his heart. Trembling hands. Shallow breaths. Over the machine’s clicking and whirring, he screamed, “Please, I don’t want to die!”
As he strained in his seat, a bellowing voice said, “Please keep your hands and feet inside at all times!”
Ethan Lozada
League City, Texas
The Antagonistic Antics of Giant Militants
My home was crumbling. Cries filled the city as buildings tumbled.
Evacuations had begun, soldiers guiding the stampede. We scurried to gather anything we could carry before the monsters returned.
We flooded out to human laughter and blinding daylight. Looking back, I watched giant children’s shoes deal the final blow, dooming any ants still inside.
Isabella Pearce
League City, Texas
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
My sister Evangeline and I hold hands on the porch.
Nuclear flames rain down on our neighborhood.
Evangeline is silent, adrift in her autism. The only word she has ever said is, “Tomorrow.”
The Stygian blaze consumes Daddy’s Honda.
We are alone.
Death is flicking at us.
“Today,” Evangeline says, finally speaking her second word.
PR Lee
Columbia, Maryland
Husbandry
She cried for days after the men took away the child they had forced her to bear. She thrashed against the cold metal bars, which had imprisoned her from the moment her body was able to produce babies, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Later, men attached cups to her underside, sucking milk from her teats.
T.S. Cummins
Shanghai, China
‘Mondays’
“Mondays, amirite?” he asks, sitting down at his workstation.
“Mondays,” she replies.
“Think we’ll see a change today?”
“Not likely.”
“In that case, I’m taking my break.”
He floats to the aft section of their workspace, pulls a lever, and disappears out the air lock.
“Mondays,” she sighs, unbuckling her safety harness and letting go.
Nick Coughlin
Paso Robles
Refrigerator Art Tells All
Recently divorced, empty nester, untethered. Andie surveyed her sterile refrigerator. The old one captured her life: kids’ art, vacation magnets, myriad photos, emergency numbers. Unlike social media, a refrigerator reveals the owner’s true essence. Andie’s Betty Ford roommate shared an affirmation card: Positivity Radiates from Me like F***ing Sunshine. New fridge. It’s a start.
Karen Underhill
Flagstaff, Arizona
A Pretty Penny
“Honey, the funds are running out quickly.”
He hummed distractedly. “I know, Viv, it’ll be fine.”
She frowned, her eye twitching, then sighed. Her arms came to hug his neck. “I wish you would have taken this seriously.”
He paused. “Would have?”
Her arms tightened, sweetly. “Your heart will sell for a pretty penny, Honey.”
Zoë Jester
Mundelein, Illinois
A Healthy, Organic Diet
For three decades, Bennett weathered total isolation. He swallowed filtered rainwater, coaxed bruised vegetables from barren dirt, and avoided human touch. All to outlast the flesh-rotting global plague. Safe inside his sanctuary, he grinned, sinking his teeth into a succulent, homegrown tomato.
It lodged deep.
There was no one left to perform the Heimlich.
Karen Lun
Morro Bay
