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Welcome to 55 word fiction, a type of flash, micro, or nano fiction, (flash-fiction,micro-fiction, nano-fiction), or short-short stories in 55 words.55-word stories to read between subway stops, or when you're multi-tasking.

The Fool Who Invented Kissing. Love, Crime, Humor,Mystery, Horror, Suspense in 55 words.55 word fiction (55-word fiction) like flash fiction, micro fiction and nanofiction, or nano stories, is a genre of short, short stories that allows only 55 words. Not 54. Not 56. Exactly 55. Scroll down to read a Shortie.

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     Cool!

"Cool," said God.
"In the beginning…," said the computer.
God clicked ‘Start’.
Earth cooled.
Man came.
Money.
Cars.
"Neat," said God.
Pollution, wars.
Saddam launched the bomb.
"Start new game?" asked the computer.
The President was about to retaliate…
God hit ‘Enter’.
"In the beginning…," said the computer.

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

Busy Times For The One-Minute Manager

"Have a seat, Bob, this’ll only take a minute."
"What’s it about, Boss?"
"It’s about your work on the Crocker presentation, Bob. Great work, very creative!"
"Thanks, Boss."
"My pleasure, Bob. Always happy to praise, but we didn’t win the account, so you’re fired.
"Sally…? Would you show Bob out and send Elizabeth in?"

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

The Fool Who Invented Kissing

He clubbed her and dragged her off to the cave.
She hated him.
He washed her face, untied her, and gave her the last meat from the fire.
That was better.
Hungry himself, he licked her greasy fingers, then her face. His lips brushed hers, paused, touched again.
Tomorrow, he would kill meat for her.

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

The Family Farm

Five generations of Burkhardts lived and died here. Their tombstones overlook the pond.
Mary and I (the new owners) are renovating the kitchen when three translucent figures appear.
"Welcome and keep up the good work," they chorus, before floating through the solid, stone wall.
Startled, Mary grips my arm. "And if we don’t?" she gasps.

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

Mom Knows Best

"You’ve lost weight, Mom."
"Got to watch my figure for Dad."
"You’re 82, Mom. Dad’s dead. You need to eat!"
"Don’t harp at me, sonny Jim. Your Mom knows best."
A month later, Jim asks: "What’d she die of?"
"Malnutrition," the doctor replies, "weren’t you looking after her?"
"Did the best I could," Jim shrugs.

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

Hilda Isn't Coming

Hilda wasn’t coming. He was sure of that now as he rocked on the porch in the muggy Florida air.
"Hilda isn’t coming," he whispered.
He whistled in the dark, then rocked himself to sleep.
He was dreaming of Hilda when she hit, flattening his house and roaring through town at 180 miles per hour.

By Doug Long  E-mail: doug@douglong.com
COPYRIGHT 1998 BizNet Communications . All rights reserved.

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