The sheep were at pasture.
It was 0300 and the troops were restless. They wanted action, not this placid chewing of grass. Every day was filled with nothing but chewing and the occasionally terrifying sheering.
The ones that came back from the shed came back wrong. Nude and shivering, wild looks in their eyes. Year after year. Jimmy couldn't take it anymore. When they came for him the last time, he ran for it. He chewed and bit and growled his sheep growl.
He didn't come back. That night they looked in when they saw the soft lights come on...
Ten! The crowd rose their voices to join the leader. Nine!Feet were stamped, hands raised in celebration. Eight! Faces were upturned towards Big Ben, the hands counting their lives. Seven! Some had tears beginning to roll down their cheeks. Six! Someone was screaming, but the sound was muffled by the bodies. Five! The mass chanting, the crowd undulating back and forth. Four! Liquid spattered down, someone's beer bottle flying out over the crowd, still full. Three! The chanting was getting louder. Two! Everyone was suddenly still. One. It was a whisper, Big Ben rang out as the hands came together...
If I just write something, what if I reveal something unsavoury about myself?
What if I mess up the spelling?
What if I am under so much pressure to knock something out in six minutes that I don't write anything? A single blank page permanently appearing on my profile as a record of my inneptitude?
What if I write about something uncool, or unninteresting? First impressions count, after all. I'll be an outcast before I've even started.
Maybe I could just leave here and never come back. All this would be a brief, awkward memory. I could add it to...
I wish I had something to say
But every idea I have just sounds HEY!
ARE THOSE BUTTERFLIES!
IN OCTOBER!? She cries.
Attention Deficit Disorder's the theme of my day.
Once I had a bad case of food poisoning,
So bad, I called my ex-wife loudly moaning.
I projectile vomited with pride.
The guy next to me died.
When the bill came, I resumed my groaning.
That's it?
No **it?
That was terrible.
You are horrible.
It was late, and all the old songs had been sung. Much of the sweet red wind had been drunk. We sat in the desert on that little peak that looked down over the town. The moon was full and for a few minutes everything seemed like it did the last time we were up there, which had to have been thirty years ago. Sam and Richard went off to look for some dry scrub to make a little fire. I looked at the lights below, thinking about old times, back when the band was together. I nodded out for...
It was dark inside. I toggled the switch, and nothing happened. Shit. Thunder rolled and I sighed. Power outage.
I stumbled through the apartment, tripping on things. I haven't lived here long enough to know the layout well. I never live anywhere that long. More than a few months, he finds me, and I have to go again. But this place, hell, there were still boxes.
I found the door to the utility room where the washer and dryer were, and where I knew the flash light was. I opened the door and began to feel around for it. Where...
All of a sudden, Mary had transformed. She had gone from a reasonably normal looking human woman to a ferocious tiger. She roared. I roared back. Wait, why did I roar? Oh no! I was a tiger as well. Well, this was unfortunate.
Now that we were both tigers, the argument we had been having moments before about who would do the dishes was rendered meaningless. Tigers can't do dishes, because they don't have thumbs. We were also a bit too large for our kitchen. I pushed past tiger Mary to escape the cramped space. Going down the stairs was...
I know that if I keep going I will make it, just a few more yards surely. My body - weak, my mind - blank, my friends - gone. I lost them a few days ago in the stormy waters that came from beneath. Evidence from our fishing vacation that we had been anticipating for weeks, in smithereens. Why me, why am I the only one here.
Surely this has to be a sign from above, Gods way of letting me know I'm special and he has other things planned for me. I promise, I will not let him down,...
, Nevada. The most nondescript town imaginable. Even the dust had dust. The air was dry, and it was hardly ever cloudy.
A convenience store with a broken sign in this dull town would prove to be the battleground. Mr. Block arrived first, slowly perusing the landscape, planning ahead, preparing for the confrontation. Satisfied, he entered the store to buy a candy bar.
Mr. Arc came next. He'd been following Block his whole life, in a chase that had ruined countless others, never gaining ground, never getting closer. Until today.
Sparks flew from his hands as he increased the voltage...
The world has changed. We have all become compeditors in someone else's game. 6 Minute Story has changed for the worse. One night, a woman jumped from 23 stories in New York. She landed safely in a dumpster full of pillows. We had coffee the next day, and she explained that she was suffering from a mild case of "I don't care". I found that a reasonable excude and bought her a cruller. She was happy, but pulled a gun out of her purse and shot hersself in the head. Damn. Now I have to get the tip. Good coffe,...