30 2-sentence Stories


All three children got out. Where did you come from?

Lost in Translation

He whispered “i love you.” She signed, leave.


Legends say human head survives eight minutes after decapitation. Personal record is 3 years.

High Ground

It won’t stop raining. There’s only the attic left now.

Call Waiting

I hung up the phone. The ringing persisted.

Party at a Friend of a Friend’s

I’m not sure this is my scene. That isn’t coke they’re snorting.


I shed my ego like a second skin. Morality came after.


The sedatives kicked in. He was still running


His middle name was Thaddeus. He didn’t have a first.

Kick a Picnic

We weren’t ready for the picnic in the jungle. They were ready for us

Artistic License

The sculpture was titled “Urban Utopia.” It only moved when you weren’t looking.

Phosphorous Rebellion

Most of the civilians were whitesauced. You don’t want to see the survivors.


I took a three-hour nap. It lasted nine days.

Quite a Catch

Taxidermy is his chief skill. His second is surgery.


Dog bites man. No mouth.


I blew on the mirror. My reflection sneezed.

Fifth Anniversary

Carol missed. Melissa’s jaw shivered into a thousand slices.


I’m going to find Sam. Don’t look for me.


“Why do you make me hit you? Please give me my arms back.”

Ice Cream Truck Don’t Stop in Poor Neighborhoods

When he braked most of us plowed into the back of the van, bloodying noses. He pissed pink lemonade from that day forward.


The blood was cherry-red, the flies like black rhinestones. She took two for earrings.

And you’re ugly too

The doctor looked at me. “I’m out of vaccines, but I do have silver bullets.”

Lights Out

The day I hit my head I thought I went blind. But it went dark for everybody else, too.

Thela Hun Ginjeet

The kids took to the streets with bottles and chains. They met the gangs of Elderly, already there.


He said the pawprints were from his terrier. Never seen a terrier that size.

Got to Give it Up

She danced like she wasn’t even touching the floor. After a while, she wasn’t.

Jim Morrison’s Ghost

We camped out in the graveyard and partied. When Mix OD’d, the froth from his mouth looked like a face.

Love is the Drug

Being with her was like being on amphetamines. Being with him was like snorting Agent Orange.

First Hunting Trip

“Bag a big guy and daddy will buy you that bike, sweetie.” It didn’t even fit on the truck.


He had a phobia of insects, she had a high intolerance of people squishing her fucking pets. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Leave a comment

Filed under microfiction

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s