Relevant Magazine recently held a short-story contest as a promotion for A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. It was a great idea, and the stories that came in were terrific. And when they asked for short stories, they really meant it. Each story had to be under 140 characters. I thought I’d reprint the ten winners. Great stuff.
Cosette: The plane touches down and my seven years with out a sister are over. The little piece of China fits perfectly in my arms. Our family, complete
Vagabond: Peering through the skeleton mask and picking up my tricycle, I turned to see the police squad car pulled over behind me.
FirstnameL: When he woke up, the dinosaur was still there.
Architeuthistic: As the Decentville populace grew more demanding, Justice Jane secretly wondered if Sir Kilzalot was still hiring. Oh! He was.
cabbagemilk: When Feldman woke up in a tub full of Stove Top stuffing he thought to himself “I knew I shouldn’t have shaved my chest”
Kevin Stinehart: As the cashier gave a knowing look scanning the prenatal vitamins, I realized she is the first person on earth to know we are having a baby.
Craig Patrick: A true companion thru many a tale descended to me in a ship w/ a sail. His fury unmatched, his roar full of grace: grizzly bear from space.
Dave Jennings: Jennie leaned across the front seat for our first kiss. The back of my head hit the driver’s side window in retreat. I couldn’t reciprocate.
Gordon: Seeing the church marquee was a guillotine to the last ray of hope left in the pastor and father of three: God hates fags! It spoke of him.
trikelow: He thought she could be The One. Thanksgiving was Tofurkey. God closes a door.
Think you can do better. Feel free to leave some more in the comments. Remember, a story involves a character that wants something and goes through conflict to get it.
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At Target, I went to use the restroom. Entering, I couldn’t find any urinals, but only stalls. Swiftly, I made for the men’s room.
And then it dawned on me that the thing that I had been looking for all these years was not a thing at all; it was less of myself.
Todd…I love your sentence! It was exactly what I needed to read this morning. Thank you. Bravo.
Staring through the looking glass, where does it lead him? To a place of uncertainty or the path to redemption. You can only find out if u look.
In silence she let the anger fester and grow more and more ugly as his terrible lies and deicite burned her heart and mind with sinister thoughts.
Don,
I just saw this – I was actually one of the winners (cabbagemilk) and I just received my copy of “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” in the mail. Can’t wait to open it up and give it a read!
With tears streaming down my eyes, I realized that I hungered not for the boy’s love. I hungered for the love of his God. My God.
It was cold on the bathroom floor on the day of my birth. Secret, untold, I now entered the world. Too much of my life resembles my birth.
I touched a dead man today and he didn’t touch me back.
I awoke from a dream in which I cared for a baby elephant the size of a cat, to realize such a thing does not exist. Such truth made me sad.
he wrote in the book so as to have a conversation with its author
The nurse interpreted the daughter’s voiceless words: “I love you.” And though I barely knew them, that mother and child, I was undone.
True story.
I drove three thousand miles to tell her ‘I Love You.’ But when I got there; I couldn’t.
The editor said to the writer, “Your job is to use words. If you’re going to let words USE you, keep it between yourselves and find a room!”
She sped through the unknown city streets, hurrying to get him to urgent care before he freckled the back seat of her husband’s new car. No way will he sign my book tonight.
The wind picked up, and the balloon was away! Up in the air, grab – miss! Only cake left now.
“You must wear underwear under your pants!”, insisted his mother. Clever at age five, and defiantly nude.
They met each other while attaining their international business degrees. She wanted to save the world. He wanted to conquer it.
Seconds after Greg tucked his electric blanket around his feet, he sighed. Through prayer, and because of blank black, he left his chair for the remote; a million miles away.
I pooped my pants. I played guitar. I’ll die someday.
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