fifty-five-word stories

Fifty-five-word fiction and lomographs. by macy Follow me here, where I update more regularly (: (come by and see me, I'm a love letter away)

[55]

It takes sixty-five minutes from my house to the office. Thirty-four of which are spent carefully planning my exit strategy. Will they catch me before I leave? Maybe they won't even notice. I'll be gone soon and I'll have an extra hour in bed every morning to plan how I want to start my day.

[55]

It's been a while and I guess I've forgotten how it goes. To be asked out to dinner, where we talk about the most simple, unimaginative things like work and what I was like in school. Then comes the bill, I say, "How much do I owe you?" Your smile says, "No, I got this."

[55]

She had a bright future ahead of her, parents who thought the world of her, a network of people who would always have her back. There was no way to be sure if it would end the way it started. But whether or not the stars aligned, she knew with certainty that she would survive.

[55]

If you told me that this day would come, I wouldn't have believed you. I woke up to an empty room. Your bags are gone. The closet, half-empty. Didn't we say no goodbyes? I suppose I should've been more specific. I should've made sure you'd let me know if there was a need for goodbyes.

[55]

She had the worst day ever—from the bad coffee, to her less-than-stellar lunch in Styrofoam, and canceled dinner plans. All she wanted to do was hide under her covers and wake up to a better day. But as she made her way home, the most beautiful sky seemed to tell her, "it'll be okay."

[55]

When you tell me you love me, I don't see you walking away from me, shutting the door behind you. When you kiss me good night, I don't hear you telling me you think you deserve better. When we sit here and now, everything is perfect and it never occurs to me that you'd leave.

[55]

She smiles at the kids who splash around and run towards the middle of the sea (low tide). She likes to dig her toes deep into the wet sand until it feels weird and she has to wash it off. Afternoons like this makes her happy she made that decision to live on the beach.

[55]

When she skips down the stairs from her bedroom, her first instinct is to greet her father who is always, always waiting. Before her big breakfast of oatmeal and honey, a hug and a cheery "I love you" is the perfect start to her morning. She doesn't know it, but it completes his entire day.

[55]

It was the last few days of summer and we weren't sure when we'd see each other again after today. He was leaving tomorrow. I didn't want to talk about it. We walked to our favorite spot at the park, shared a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and talked about the movie from last night.

[55]

If you took each necklace and looked at it very carefully, you couldn't tell what they mean. When I take them out, wear them around my neck, I feel something different. I cry, I smile, I remember things. For some reason, I've stopped wearing the one you gave me. Because when I do, it hurts.

[55]

Every year, exactly the same three dates for the past three years, I go on a trip. I go to the same place, do the same things, and hope to see the same people. I haven't found who I've been looking for yet but I believe he'll find me soon enough. Only time can tell.

[55]

I put on my sunnies and throw my head back. The sun is the perfect kind of shiny. My head settles comfortably into my towel. I look over to my left, your head tilted towards me. I smile because the day can only get better. You take my hand and wrap your fingers around mine.

[55]

She never liked window seats. She would much rather be stuck in between two burly men rather than have to deal with sitting beside a window—especially where she can see the plane's wing. With every tilt and even the slight motion of the airplane (she feels everything!), her stomach does flips along with it.

[55]

We had a strange setup. I was the one who'd fix the computer whenever it conked out and check the car when it wouldn't start. He was a master in the kitchen and I'd always wake up to the best breakfast. I guess I never found it weird until someone pointed it out to me.

[55]

I couldn't sleep well that night. He had just left and we had gotten into a pretty ugly fight. I woke up and brewed some coffee because I knew I had to get out from under the covers and get under the sun. Phone rings. "Hello, baby?" And just like that everything is right again.

[55]

The light in the morning always makes my room glow. It doesn't hurt my eyes when I wake up—it even makes me want to get up. But today was the last day I'd see the light like this. I sat on my bed thinking will the light ever be better than this? I hope.

[55]

It was a perfect summer's day at the beach. Just me, my book, and a blanket I turned into my permanent address on the shoreline. I had my back turned to the sea, watching people go by and counting the palm trees lining the pathway. If I could do exactly this everyday, I totally would.