Tiny tales: A hallmark of the 55 Fiction stories submitted to our annual short story contest is the “surprise” at the end that ties the preceding sentences together. They show up in stories about murders, love, food, animals, cars—really, you can craft a tiny twist into any tall tale. We’re here to publish the best ones annually. We received hundreds and hundreds of entries from all over the world: 55 words at a time with up to seven words for a headline. Our judges combed through them all, and here are the final 23 for 2024’s contest.
—Camillia Lanham
Kaitlin
He was startled to see the stunning young woman approach the stage. When she posed, cameras flashed, and people cheered.
He thought, “Who is this? Where did she come from?”
She was so poised, so confident.
As she strode by him, her tassel swaying, she looked his way and mouthed the words, “Love you, Dad.”
Mark Turner
San Luis Obispo
Eureka
The top grad students worked in my lab last semester. All failed miserably!
This new one though, shows promise.
“Timer’s calibrated professor, shall I switch on the power?”
“You’ve put in the research. … You’ve got this!”
Three, two, one … ding! With nervous anticipation, we peeked through the glass door.
Success!!
My Hot Pocket didn’t explode.
S.M. Chon
SLO
Bloody offerings
The door slammed, jerking my head forward. Crack! This was a dark ritual. A metallic taste filled my throat. The offering swung back and forth from the door handle as if from a noose, blood dripping. The two shiny quarters were hollow compensation for my pain. All of this for the so-called tooth fairy.
Tina Niebur
SLO
Agatha’s three wishes
Agatha, 93, rubbed the lamb. A genie appeared: “I’ll grant you three wishes.”
“Blimey! If only this had happened when I was younger.”
“Granted.” (KAZINGG!) “You’re now 92.”
“WHAT?! That wasn’t … ”
“What’s your second wish?”
“Okay. Let me think for a second.”
“Granted. What’s your third wish?”
“C’MON! Leave it, will you?”
“Granted. Goodbye.”
Joakim Mortensen
Brabrand, Denmark
My illusion of life
When I was dying I asked my daughter, “Was I hard on you when you were young?” Her father thought I was. My heart tightened as I waited for the answer. “Not at all, mom.”
I breathed out when she answered and realized I’d been holding my breath for most of her life.
Elizabeth Jacobson
Arroyo Grande
Pointless problem
One way to prevent AI from causing trouble is keeping it busy. Our department designs and feeds pointless problems to thinking machines. We often play them against each other. I give them stories and they have to tell if they were written by a human or a machine. Take this one. What do you think?
Edwin Vartany
Glendale, California
UV
My eyes shut in anticipation. Anxiety fills me as the walls begin to close in. I frantically look around as I am locked inside a coffin. I’m not dead, but will die of cancer soon if I don’t get out. Heat fills the void. I press the “up” button. I’m never tanning again.
Owen Wick
Pewaukee, Wisconsin
The furry attacker
“No. He’s here.” The women looked at the open door, terrified.
The footsteps grew closer.
“Mom, wh–.” She put her hand over his mouth.
“You can’t make a sound,” she sternly replied.
It’s like nails on a wood floor.
It entered.
“Happy birthday, Max!” They both sprung up to give their furry friend a hug.
Bowen McKay
Hartland, Wisconsin
Who’s who?
We were close friends for ages. He has dementia now. He thinks he’s had a wonderful life. He keeps talking about his adventures, his achievements, the prizes he’s won, and all the ladies. … Nobody’s figured it out, but the crazy geezer thinks he’s me. … Let him be happy, I say. Why tell him the truth?
Edwin Vartany
Glendale, California
Consequences
Coming home from the bar late at night, the road is blurry, tingling from the whiskey running through my veins.
I will be fine.
Deer:
I swerve into headlights boring through my soul.
Head on into a car I recognize.
Music is blaring as I slip into darkness. My son always played his music loud.
Nikko Javier
Hartland, Wisconsin
What love is all about
This amazing day at the age of 80, I enjoy my country leisure life.
Looking for a little special love, I decided to check out the wife.
She was working in the kitchen, being motivated for a special goal.
The lovely lady was making cookies, so moving in slowly, I got to lick the bowl.
Paul Kunzler
Creston
Friends of the crows
The crows stood atop the post, awaiting something. Usually, it was some nuts that the man in the house left there. He had befriended them some years ago. They enjoyed being around him, but they hadn’t seen him in weeks. Today, a woman left the house. She walked toward them and placed down some meat.
Ethan Congdon
Hartland, Wisconsin
Zombies
I grip my sword. Turn the corner, swinging with all my might, eyes closed, hoping for a miracle. Silence. Phew. That was close. I turn around and leap. How can there be more?! I charge ahead but am outnumbered. Screaming, I curl in a ball on the floor.
“Dude, just take off the VR goggles.”
Katie Curry
Hartland, Wisconsin
Sarah goes to a TED talk
Starving artist Sarah listened attentively.
“First, get a website.”
Sarah groaned, picturing hours spent creating content instead of painting.
“Next, gain loyal followers.”
Sarah had loyal cats.
The PowerPoint bullets included networking, meet-and-greets …
Sarah threw up her hands. There was paint under her nails.
“Da Vinci didn’t do marketing!”
The speaker sighed. “DaVinci was funded.”
Diane Smith
Arroyo Grande
Morning meditation
He stood there, meditating. A monk in prayer.
The sharper the knife, the cleaner the kill. The cleaner the kill, the keener the thrill. He licked his lips and anticipated the glide of metal through flesh, the juices running.
He brought the blade down and frowned as half a grape tumbled away on the floor.
Darren Chang
Clovis, California
Endgame
So here she was.
Her husband bankrupt because of her.
Her daughter going to prison and seeming relieved about it.
Her son owned a house, yes, but was likely to follow in his father’s footsteps very soon.
She smiled and raised her arms in triumph.
She was finally going to win a game of Monopoly.
Joakim Mortensen
Brabrand, Denmark
Vacation
“Hey, ma.”
“Hi, Honey, how’s the beach?”
“We’re getting closer to the water right now; we’re going to run into it.”
“That’s nice, dear. I read an article saying there were five shark attacks last week.”
“I don’t think we’ll be worrying about that.”
“OK, be careful. How was your flight?”
“We’re still on it.”
Owen Wick
Pewaukee, Wisconsin
A knightly ending
The knight collapsed against a broken wall and withdrew the sword from his chest. Fresh blood gushed out from the wound and stained the grass below him.
As he took his final breaths, two hands from behind removed the headset from his face.
“Well?” the sales guy asked. “Ready to move onto Level Two?”
Shannon Ouimet
Mundelein, Illinois
The case of Henry Roberts
Harry believed he could fly, so one day he went out to a bridge and threw himself off.
This being a 55-word story, you might now expect me to reveal that Harry was a bird. He wasn’t. He was a confused man.
Luckily, the bridge was two feet above a one-foot-deep brook.
Joakim Mortensen
Brabrand, Denmark
Tuesday morning on the A10 approach
“License,” said the officer. “You have any idea how fast you were going?”
“Well, you know, officer, that’s relative, as Einstein said. Depends on the eyes that see. Actually, I’m running a bit late for a lecture I’m giving on Einstein.”
“Does it pay well?”
“Yes, actually. Why?”
“Then the fine’s gonna feel relatively small.”
Joakim Mortensen
Brabrand, Denmark
At 70
Her lifelong philosophy was, “You gain superpowers the longer you live.”
In childhood, she’d discovered her talent for art and writing. College brought out skills in critical thinking, communication, and leadership. All superpowers in demand during her career.
Now, the community facing labor shortages, she raised her wrinkled hand. The last superpower revealed itself: invisibility.
Diane Smith
Arroyo Grande
Fiction vs. reality
“How’s the book coming along?” asked the editor.
“Good! I thought of a way to make the story more interesting,” replied the author.
“That’s great! I knew you were up to something; you’ve been coming in less frequently.”
“Yeah, I decided to kill of a few characters from the storyline.”
“You’re writing an autobiography … .”
Lizzy Santora and Sophia Smuklavskiy
Fair Lawn, New Jersey
The sweet one
The doorbell rings
My daughter answers. And there he is.
“Who’s been good this year?”
All five grandchildren shriek, “Me! I have!”
They watch, wide-eyed, as he and his giant bag enter the den.
I’m on the couch, and my granddaughter—the sweet one—crawls onto my lap.
“Grandma,” she whispers, “Santa’s wearing Grandad’s shoes.”
Dianna Bond
Highlands Ranch, Colorado
