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I sat in front of the chimney holding in my hands, really tight, the letters I wrote you but I never sent, and started to threw them one by one into the fire, feeding the flames which rose and burned with the same passion I felt when I wrote those letters.
His wife loved him so much that he knew she would never sign the divorce papers, so the only way of getting rid of her was killing her.
One night, while the couple were walking through a dark alley, a hooded and armed man cornered them, and asked them for their money and belongings, otherwise he would kill them; the husband refused to give him the money and got ready to fight with the wrongdoer, but when the hooded man heard the refusal, he fired his gun towards the husband without hesitation; and the wife, seeing all this, jumped in front of her husband, taking the bullet in her heart and giving her life to save her beloved one, she fell into the arms of her husband, who, with a smile in his lips, hugged her, and whispered into her ear "thanks" before she passed away.
The plan worked perfectly.
The hummingbird-man flew from flower to flower, penetrating them with its long peck and tongue, enjoying their nectar and beauty, pollinating them, and increasing the world population of humans.
"Hi! My parents are going to be out of town this weekend and I'm planning this huge party, so I was wondering if you'd like to come?"
"Sorry, I can't, thanks."
"C'mon! The party is gonna be amazing! I've already got the beer and the weed."
"I can't neither drink nor smoke, so, no, thanks."
"Say whaaaat?! Don't tell me that you, the prettiest and more popular of the school, are one of those straight edge kinda of girl!"
"Fuck you! I'm not going to your party because I can't, not because I don't want to, my parents just found out that I'm pregnant..."
"Do not litter" was what the sign said, but no one was able to read it because of the pile of litter it has in front of it.
Every morning, before he went out of his house, he ran across his worst enemy, in the reflection of the mirror, who said to him:
"You're fat, ugly and the clothes you're wearing are out of fashion, no one loves you and no one would ever does, I hate you and I think you should kill yourself."
"So, tell me, What is it that you like the most about him?"
"I don't know, I like everything about him!"
"C'mon, think, there must be something specific that drives you crazy."
"Mmn, I don't know" She said doubtfully while she remembered the previous micro-fiction "Well, now that you mention it, I think that what I like the most about him its the smell of his sweated shirts."
While she was cleaning the bedroom, she found the sweated shirt of her husband lying on the floor, she picked it up, brought it to her nose, breathed deeply, and sighed madly in love.
Instead of wielding their swords and try to cut each other to death, they wielded their decks and fought in a cards battle, where luck was the only one to determine which of the two rivals were the best without causing any harm to the duellists.
She fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and when she finally reached the bottom of the rabbit's hole, ready to live all kind of adventures, she woke up kicking the air and with her heart racing.
And when he closed the door behind him, he felt so good to finally be able to say that phrase!
They knew they had forgive each other and all their troubles were part f the past, when the neighbours came to their door the following day complaining that they couldn't sleep the previous night because of all the noise the made in the make up.
"Why you didn't go to work?" She asked me.
"Glublugluglbluglublgulbuglgublgbuglgbglubglubglg'Sssspppppptt" And with a last smile in front of the mirror, he was ready to go.
Their love, like a phoenix, reborn from the ashes that their previous relationship had left.
Even though they eat and puke, eat and puke, eat and puke, our friends, the bees are unable to lose weight, and to our own profit, they're still fat and dissatisfied with their bodies.
They were looking at each other as they approached themselves, and when they were face to face, one evaded the other waving his red cape in the air...
"Olé!!!"
And they danced, and danced all day long, until one drop dead to the floor.
No one knew if what he had in his forehead was a really big wart or if it was a hole from where his brain was coming out.
"Honey! What happened? I came as soon as possible, why are you crying?"
"I'm sorry for making you come in such a rush; but we need to talk."
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"I cannot fake it anymore, so we better broke up. It's been a long time since I don't love you, and even your presence here everyday bothers me, I don't want to see you anymore."
" Honey, what are you saying? I love you, you love me, we were made for each other, if you wouldn't love me anymore you wouldn't be crying, let's go to couple therapy, let's try it again, do not send our relationship to the waste just like that."
"It's not useful we waste more of our time doing all that, I don't feel anything for you anymore but repulsion, and the only reason why I am crying is because I've got something in my eye, so please, go, I don't want to see you anymore."
He couldn't get off of bed due to heaviness of the pieces of the shattered dreams that had fallen over him when he woke up.
He didn't rest until he saw his enemy dead, quite dead, and used his enemy skin as a welcome rug, where he could clean the mud of his shoes with his enemy face.
No one had ever seen him, nor being attacked by such a demoniac being; but everybody knew that he had come back from the death, and that he used his fangs to feed himself with human blood.
When it felt the arrow piercing its body, the apple wished it had been cut by a knife.
He was lying in his bed with a wet towel over his forehead as he heard the roars of a terrible monster, he heard it purring, barking and he even could see the shadow of the terrible monster reaching his window and coming for him.
Sunglasses hide behind them the lustful glares of the sexual stalkers, the sparks of joy in the eyes of the happy people, and the sad tears of the hopeless ones.
There was no possible way to know how he felt unless he told you himself, because his face never show any expression of feelings. He never talked anyway.
Before he blew the candles, he had wished he were dead.
After he blew the candles, he looked around several times, hoping, waiting for something to happen.
"Hi! I want you to meet a friend." - The pitcher throws the ball.
"Thanks, but no thanks, I'm not interested" - Strike one!
"C'mon give him a chance, you don't even know him yet" - The pitcher throws it again.
"No, thank you, I don't have time" - Strike two!
"Don't be like that, he is a very handsome guy and he will pay for everything on the date." - The pitcher throws the ball for the third time.
"Well, okay, make him pick me up on Friday at seven." - HIT!
Two years later the wedding bells announced the Home Run in the ninth inning of the game.
365 Microfictions, Flash Fictions, Micro-Stories and Short Stories written by Sir Helder Amos Copyright © 2011 -- Template created by O Pregador -- Powered by Blogger Templates
