Friday, August 31, 2012

55 Word Fiction- A Story in Verse


(An attempt at a 55-word's only fiction genre) 

Wait For It

He wanted to die,
He climbed the highest mountains,
He swam the widest oceans,
He fought with the wildest animals,
He even tried to starve himself to death,
But he didn’t die.
And then he found a bag of money,
Abandoned on the road,
Happy at last,
And a lorry hit him,
And he died.


10 comments:

  1. Ah, what a bad time that guy had to face! But the saving grace is that he was atleast happy before he died! Who said, Money can't buy happiness!!

    Joy always,
    Susan

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    1. God Gives with one hand Susan..and God taketh away with the other hand....was reading Leo Tolstoy recently and wrote this under that influence

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  2. Good one doc..! I second Susan here..Who said Money can't buy happiness?
    Should be smart enough keep it with oneself..!

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    1. thats Ok Anand...nothing secret there...everyone knows the truth..only hypocrites deny it and act sanctimonious

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  3. Good one doc..! I second Susan here..Who said Money can't buy happiness?
    Should be smart enough keep it with oneself..!

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  4. Bill gates once said " Money can't buy happiness, but it is always nice to cry in a BMW than in a two wheeler".

    Nice fiction there Doctor :-)

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    1. And the best thing is not to cry anywhere Ashwini...but life does gives us some testy times doesnt it? and we cope and survive and live to fight another day, for which money definitely does grease the wheels

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  5. Haha... good one doc. You should write more poetry, what other talents do you have up your sleeve? By the way have you heard of A.J. Cronin, a doctor turned writer, awesome guy... 'The Citadel' and his autobiography 'Adventures in two worlds' are great reads.

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    Replies
    1. AJ Cronin, was one of my childhood favorites Karen as was Herriot? the vet who wrote all those fantastic books about treating animals...god, i used to love his books when i was at school. and poetry? i thought that i had successfully outgrown that phase - my teenage years were spent writing lots and lots of lovelorn poetry- but the stuff is like riding a bike- never goes away does it?

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