Very short original works
 

I thought it would be nice to have a place for very short original stories.

I'll start.

The Killer Frogs

The killer frogs - you may remember reading about them or you may have had more intimate contact with them. I hope not. Perhaps you lost a friend or relative? Maybe a pet? It's even possible that you've seen one, but then you're very lucky ... you're still alive.

They aren't the size of a Citroen, as was once thought. That was rumor, started by the campers who were kept awake one night by the amplified croaking of a herd of feeding frogs, and who found the next morning the freshly stripped bones of two or three Americans soaking in a blood puddle.

And they aren't actually frogs, though they make a croaking sound when feeding and can jump eight or twelve feet - say from the side of the road to the neck of a bicyclist.

They vary in color, from yellow to green to dark brown.

Picture an animal about the size of a field mouse, but with its skin turned inside out and rotted to that color, with piranha teeth and retractable claws.

Imagine a dozen of those leaping out of the trees and the tall grass, landing on your back, holding on with their claws piercing your skin a half-inch or more. Imagine the smell and the feel of their slippery flesh, and the teeth ripping and your slippery flesh, wet from sweat and open wounds, the blood sticky and red-brown and reminding you of the rust that eats at the body of your car the rust that eats at your body the rust bucket that drips in the driveway, dripping you fall in a heap, a rust heap dripping in the driveway, tripping you fall in the knee-deep grass, bare legged and bare boned, dripping you trip and are covered by a shuddering green-brown slick and you slip away as they open your face and suck on your tongue.

I imagined it. Now I feel sick.

rats, I was hoping this was a nsfw thread.



;)

Of the "very short" variety?

a picture is worth 1000 words

i saw, i licked, i watched response, then i came.

The end.

The kitten had to die. My wife had told me that it was going to infect the other cats if it didn't, and also not to let it scratch me. I put my yellow leather gloves on before reaching down for it. When I stood, I found that in my hand was a dead gray snake. Somehow, the kitten had eluded my grasp. As I released the snake, it's skin clung to my gloves, but the heavier body slipped away, leaving the tattered skin trailing from my hand, flowing in the breeze like seaweed.

Angry now, I dropped to one knee and gripped the kitten in my seaweed covered right hand. It's tiny jaws were open and the needle teeth glinted black in it's miniature maw. I remembered that time that I choked the little man on the porch of that house until he passed out. Squeezing the kittens neck was similar, but kind of tricky because it was so small and the seaweed clotting my gloves made it very slippery.

As I rose to hold it's open mouth under the tap (for some reason there is a kitchen sink standing by itself in the yard) to drown it, my daughter was there. Knowing she would be upset by such a cruel act, I tried to position myself between her and what I held under the rising water in the sink. She seemed distracted, and was trying to look at something to my left. The whole time, the kitten was struggling for breath and not dying. Squirming, clawing, yowling.

It was still alive when I woke up.

"Is the lander on target?"
"You know its not a lander. Jupiter doesn't have any land to land on."
"Well, whatever you wanna call it, is it on target?"
"Yes, directly on target."
"Right for the center of the red spot?"
"Absolutely."
"ETA?"
"Only a minute until it hits the outside atmospheric cloud cover, now."
"Ten, nine... five... three..."
"There it goes. It's hit."
"What's going on...?"
"The, the red spot.. the storm..."
"It looks like..."
"It is, it's dissipating... fast...!"
"Good god, the rest of the clouds too?"
"Its like the whole planet is... dissolving..."
"Wait. What's that?"
"It's coming back!"
"The clouds?"
"Yes! the clouds are coming back."
"And the red spot?"
"It's... oh my god, its turning the other way!"
"the whole thing?"
"Its like a big cyclone, but spinning the wrong way. "
"But..."
"Wait... there! in the center! a hole, like a vortex!"
"A hole?"
"Its.. its closing up... its closed."
"What's that?"
"It's... its the lander?"
"what?"
"The lander! coming out of the center! ...and fast!"
"Fast? how fast?"
"A lot faster than we sent it in..."
"Where is it going?"
"Straight back towards us!"
"well, it will burn up in the atmosphere like everything else, right?"
"It was built to survive the Jovian atmosphere!"
"so?"
"So you think OURS will stop it?"
"you said its heading..."
"straight back at us. Fast. Very fast."
"So very, very fast..."

There were no slippers left in the entire town. It all happened in one sultry summer night. When the residents of Footcheese woke up that August morning, they all thought things were just misplaced. Later, when the big city newspaper reporters arrived, the whole country heard the terrifying news. The slippers had just walked away, overnight. By September, garden hoses were missing too. Pod People were blamed, but it turned out, the town was suffering from mass forgetfulness. The missing hoses and slippers were found at the bottom of Smegma Creek, by scuba diving Girl Scouts.