I got this thing that tells me I need a Winnebago.
When I have that, everything will be cool.
I won’t have to pay rent.
No one can tell me what to do.
I can work when I want to and not have to be Mr. Perfect all the time.
I’ll drink whenever I’m thirsty.
The term “running amok”, apparently comes from the Malay language and translates to epic craziness against people or objects by one individual followed by a period of brooding (remorse perhaps?).
It’s actually a syndrome found in the DSM-4 (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders).
So there’s a diagnosis code for Amok. If you were a doctor, you could bill for it and insurance might just cover your patient’s spree.
I could be wrong, but it appears that alcohol may be involved in this particular example.
When selecting a superhero, here’s a few important things:
Too much power is always a disaster.
Some Degree of Mixed Breeding.
Half mutant is always good.
An Absurd Power or Two.
Like little wings on the ankles.
We like that.
Ambiguous Hero/Villiain Status.
Aren’t we all just a little conflicted?
I have no explanation for this one.
Just had the idea, thinking about why I like the Submariner and then had some fun with it.
Sometimes you can just pretend things away.
The debts, out of sight out of mind.
The ex, never happened the way she portrayed it.
The children, they’re exceeding expectations.
The illness, your spirit can never be defeated by it.
Asked with concern, “How are you doing?”
“I don’t know, you tell me, you’re the doctor.”
I guess that could be called denial.
Though this person is asking the doctor for a reality check.
Is that a joke? Asking the doctor to tell him how he’s feeling.
“Some people are destined to never find love.” he said at age 14.
Soon he met a young lady who wore flower printed dresses.
Together they drank cheap wine behind the bleachers and ran around the football field like maniacs.
“I really need to stop smoking” , he said, as she threw her arms around him.
Bless Jimmy’s heart. He really is a sweet kid. Wondering about the parents, of course. Some kids just get started early. The youth of today ain’t what it youth to be.
Because knucklehead is not quite insulting enough.
Knuckle schmucks are just complete putzes.
Worthy of our contempt.
The mindless, clueless men (and) women who populate the world of government jobs and bureacracy.
“The knuckle schmucks at the DMV.”
“The post office is a breeding ground for knuckle schmucks.”
Was he biter?
In a word, yes.
I thought this was an absurdly funny insult.
Language is a living thing. It’s always changing and evolving. Sometimes you need to develop new terms to describe things.
Another thing that’s important, in my humble opinion, is that when you introduce something that it gets introduced for a reason.
We’ll be using this term again. And we’ll let you know who “he” is.
But until then, you may want to try it on for size. Or not.
All the women in his life were inclined to run walk.
Mother, sister, girlfriend.
They all shot down the street like track stars.
Rueben liked to mosey.
Take is sweet time and drag his feet.
His soles were worn from shuffling down the sidewalk.
Meanwhile, they all chatted and laughed their way up ahead.
Thought this was a funny idea.
All the women in his life walk really fast, but Reuben doesn’t.
In fact, he’s so determined to walk slowly that his shoes are worn from shuffling.
I haven’t decided if we’ll hear from Reuben again or if this is the sum total of his existence here at Story 55.
You could always chime in if you’d like to see him fleshed out a bit more.
Well intentioned, but not that skilled.
The mid-sized terrier was a project.
Very attentive, and a bit out of control.
On the first day, lots of commands and growling.
During their walk, one hand was bandaged and couldn’t hold the leash.
Saw him again yesterday.
“Not that bad”, he smiled sheepishly, limping down the sidewalk.
This guy isn’t the Dog Whisperer, he’s the Dog rescuer.
The reality is that not everybody can be Cesar Milan.
Some people want to be, but don’t really know what they’re doing.
And there are consequences when the little guy bites.
Live and learn…ouch!
The mockingbird gave the morning report.
Ravens were here, 3 of them.
Not to be trusted.
That fat squirrel was in the avocados again.
Such a slob.
Someone used a chain saw, loud and selfish.
Noisy family of finches invaded the big fiscus tree.
Sounded like three hundred of them.
More news in 5 minutes.
This is a meditation on the animal characters in an urban neighborhood.
They populate the yard and garden.
The mockingbird is a natural story teller.
If you listen carefully you can hear her imitating the many other animal and human sounds.
She’s the block’s news anchor.
It’s so simple.
The only thing is the one thing.
All the busy work and multi-tasking.
They just distract you.
So, be singularly focused on your one thing.
Then you’ll be one with everything you need.
That’s the secret.
The hard part is recognizing the one thing.
And having faith that it will deliver you.
55 word stories is my one thing. But you probably figured that out already.
Brainchild of New Times founder, Steve Moss
A hard ten in craps.
Pair of fives.
An equilateral triangle.
Semiprime and a Fibonacci number.
5 times 11, my favorite digits.
(Being born on 11/22)
Perfect size for a complete and curious yarn.
The beauty isn’t only what you write…
But also what you don’t.
Tried to succinctly explain why I like this sub-genre of flash fiction so much.
55 Word stories are a convention, like Haiku.
In a chaotic world, it sometimes nice to have order.
I don’t have to remember how many words to write.
It’s always 55.
Of course, in time, I’ll be forced to make exceptions.
I promise to always let you know when I do.