50-Word Story.7

It’s November 11th or Singles Day, as I recently found out, because the date is 11.11 (all ones or singles, get it?) and I haven’t submitted a 50-word story this month yet (I’ve 4 days to go!). I’ve got something in mind, I just have to whittle it down into a proper tale consisting of only 50 words, no pressure!

I was on vacation when I found out that my October submission was accepted to be published, which made me walk on air a little, as I walked the streets of Amsterdam. Of course, before this little nugget of a story was accepted, I had two stories submitted for August and September, that was rejected:

August: This was a tweet-long story that I felt had potential to be more, so I expanded it into a longer story. Perhaps it needs to be an even longer story.

Immigrant

I pinched my specially-designed contact lenses and slid them from my eyes. Without these silicone disks, I’d be singled out, vilified and feared. I contemplated my eyes in the mirror – they’re a solid shining black, no pupils, no white, nothing. 

Just like my other brethren who now call Earth home.  

September: This was a combination of a two tweet-long stories which somehow morphed into a story that had elements of a nursery rhyme into it. I blame my ignored garden.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

The air was ripe with the pleasing, dewy petrichor of the post-rain morning when she decided to cultivate her garden. She planted tomatoes, French beans, herbs. Her vegetables flourished, insects hummed. Then, the plants withered, died, rotted.She was confounded. The nursery rhyme lied, pretty maids don’t make good compost.   

October: Surprise, surprise, this was ALSO a tweet-long story but when a tweet was 140 characters only! I went through my old posts here and discovered this story which surprised me because I’d totally forgotten I’d written it. I thought this story was apt for the month of October.

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