55 fiction
Arthritic joints irritate him. Time had brutally exposed his weaknesses--little flakes of skin had peeled off his body, leaving ugly splotches of dull, crinkled grey and liver spots. His joints creaked and groaned with every slight twist and turn. Despite all, she loved him dearly, for he was her one and only Rubik's cube. (55 words)
'Hey, hey you,' he tried to be friendly. 'Now, that looks delicious,' he worked his way over to her side casually. 'Do you want to...you know...' he inched closer, barely touching her arm. Susanne screamed and dropped her cake at the sight of a cockroach waving its feelers affably at her. '...share the cake?'(55 words)
The Metaphor of Writing
The Amazing Butter Making Machine was the best for miles and miles. It was new, it was shiny, it was huge, it took up gazillions and gazillions of land and could churn out gazillions and gazillions of butter. Ooh, perfect, creamy, golden-yellow butter, winking away silently under the cool shade of the Amazing Butter Making Machine's factory.
Then one day,
people wanted to see the Amazing Butter Making Machine. People in top hats and jackets simply loved the uncanny resemblance between the Amazing Butter Making Machine and green dollar bills with the Queen's head on it. People in engineer caps were fascinated by circular things with teeth that click round each other in the machine. Round and round, in an endless, enticing cycle...
The time has come.
Businessmen with loud voices hunched over the opening or the Amazing Butter Making Machine, fingers poised precisely, perfectly, over rows of numbers, prepared to punch them any moment. For some surprising reason, they were all silent. Silence! Heavy breathing echoed in the factory of the Amazing Butter Making Machine, pounding relentlessly in a solemn rhythm.
Engineers held buckets of milk at the other opening of the Amazing Butter Making Machine, bracing themselves for the Final Showdown.
A clock in the far off distance ticks steadily, marking each second with cold, hard precision.
The time has come.
With cranks and creaks the Amazing Butter Making Machine spurred to life. It gave a loud, resounding yawn, ploded on a little, and with a groan, grinded to a stop. Calculators and buckets clattered to the ground. People wanted creamy, delicious butter for their breakfast! They wanted butter! Butter! Butter! Butter! No matter how they cajoled and coerced the Amazing Butter Making Machine, it simply could not and would not churn out butter.
Then, very suddenly, slowly, carefully, the Amazing Butter Making Machine crept to life. Out came a piece of...
green cheese. From the Amazing Butter Making Machine.
I now present you with the absolute truth:
We are all like the Amazing Butter Making Machine. Or at least, I am.
xinxuan
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