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This week, we proudly bring you the second round of our One-Sentence Stories. More will follow next week. If you'd like to try your hand at a one-sentence story, please send it to websubmissions@monkeybicycle.net. By Derek White I was in a mangrove swamp when I stopped to think I was in a mangrove swamp. By J. Robert Lennon WANTED: microwave oven, romantic partner, pet food, ride to grocery store, bicycle, heart and/or arthritis medication, any and all LIFE magazine pre-1950, heavy coat (prefer cotton/wool), old jewelry (value unimportant), glue/tape/other adhesives, respectable lady age 40-60 for companionship/conversation/recreation/sex, book on farming, will trade seven to ten hours manual labor, drawings/paintings (I am best at portraits), clean hair for transplant or toupee, exercise lessons, personal coaching/advice/encouragement, errand running (easier if bicycle), massage (erotic or, if man, non-erotic), orally spoken stories of interesting life experiences, directions to anywhere in NY/PA/NJ area except southern NJ and PA west of Harrisburg and NY west/north of Syracuse, I am a well groomed gentleman of late middle age with many excellent qualities, partially educated at various institutions, well traveled, war veteran, lover of children, infectious laugh, smile, etc., call 2123762213 evenings between 10 and 12 if someone else answers ask for Al or Franklin, thanks and God Bless America. By Bryant Cheng How can I convince her that she is the most beautiful girl, when she is tied up upside down with an orange in her mouth, but to smile? By Ray Vukcevich Your retina is like hotel wallpaper, and early on the room is bright with morning sunshine and there is a vase with yellow flowers on a round wooden table and a small girl in clothes from very early in the last century stands by a harpsichord holding a stuffed raccoon, and you realize that someday she'll be your granddaughter whose face you can't quite make out because the humidity is peeling the wallpaper and the room is damp and dim and you're an old fart in a sleeveless undershirt swatting at the holes in reality that swoop by like broken black bats. By Calvin Liu The gangsta rapper who said he’d never love a ho meant he was gay as gay can be. By Stephen Ausherman The lieutenant seized up with a sickening feeling of betrayal, as though someone had left his cake out in the rain, which was a bit of an overreaction because someone left his pie out in the fog is really more like what happened, and that’s not nearly as bad, even though that someone could be capable of all kinds of unrestrained hostility toward pastries and desserts, in the metaphorical sense. By Mike Topp Inside of my ant farm there are cows and chickens. Here is a link to the first batch of One-Sentence Stories. If you would like to link to this story, please use this link. | ||
