55 Fiction

I'd like to share a little known style of writing called 55 Fiction. It is a very short story--exactly 55 words long--that includes setting, character(s), conflict, and resolution. Stories of 55 fiction generally end with a twist, brought on with suspense. I.e. the reader doesn't understand the story fully until the punch line, so to speak. The count of 55 words per story excludes the title.

I enjoy this style of writing because it forces me to write very concisely and efficiently. Plus, I like that there's usually an unexpected twist at the end. Ironically, structured poetry forces the style of writing to be very concise also, but I do not like poetry.

I was told about this genre of writing in my high school creative writing class. I received a packet with examples of good 55 Fiction published in the book The World's Shortest Stories, which I have still kept (example below). I own an audio book version of The World's Shortest Stories of Love and Death, but I'd like the other books too.

Evening Surprise (by Hillary Clay)

Shimmery stockings stretched over shapely thighs--a perfect backdrop for a body-skimming cocktail dress. Glamour radiated from the ends of the diamond earrings to the tips of the spike-heeled shoes. As a shadowed eye surveyed the mirror's reflection, painted lips pursed with pleasure. Suddenly, a voice cried out from behind.

"Dad?!"

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Included here are a few that I wrote 5-6 years ago. I can do better nowadays, but I'm too lazy to do that now. Maybe another day...

Mafia’s Backyard

            “Were you really in the mafia, Grandpa?”

            “Of course not,” the old man admonished, ruffling his granddaughter’s dark curls.

            “Oh. Well, okay,” she responded, slim shoulders slumping in disappointment.

            Loping around the corner, the family’s German Shepard approached from the backyard, a giant, dirty bone clenched firmly in its jaws.

            “Grandpa, what’s that?”

            “A femur.”

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Tale as Old as Time

            “You beast!”

            “Repulsive know-it-all,” the prince retaliated

            Gasp. “That is it! I want a divorce.”

            “Fine by me! But the castle is mine.”

            “I want the library,” Belle demanded.

            “You spend too much time in that damned library…”

            The therapist rubbed his temples. Never a dull moment in the lifestyles of the rich and fabled.

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A Pirate Tale

            “Sorry, kiddo. Pirates don’t exist anymore.”

            “Yes they do!” Jeremy persisted.

            Rolling her eyes, the baby-sitter gave up.

            That evening, a bearded man appeared at the door.

            “Can I help you?”

            “’Just deliverin’ a message. Have a nice evenin’, Ma’am.” With that said, he left her holding a paper slip containing a single black dot.