The Doctor Operates...

Saturday, August 19, 2006

LV

For a while now, BB and Chamique have been indulging in very imaginative 55 word stories that they post on their respective blogs every Friday. One of them begins by posting a 55 word narrative, to which the other responds with an equally worded effort taking the thread forward. A few weeks ago, the latter chose to abandon her legions of readers by callously not responding to BB's weekly initiative. At this point, armed with a degree in altruism and half a dozen exercisable fingers, I leaped in the breach to carry the baton for that week.

Other 55s have followed (all with Chamique back at her post), but I have found myself haplessly drawn towards adding my own modest efforts to that of the pioneers. Earlier today, BB suggested that instead of hiding my contributions away in the Comments on his blog, I should post them here. As a result, here is my response to the Fifty.Five. by BB and the Fifty five by Chamique (to be read in that order).

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A bit of the viscid mixture was still on her fingers as she opened the door. She quickly massaged it into her full, round lips. Salty.

A kafir watched her and smiled appreciatively.

Bastard.

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Somewhere, Akram sat staring at the bottle in his hand.

Fuck.

He'd given her the cyanide paste instead of the vaseline.

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Update: Dibyo carries it on from here. Anybody else?

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Update 2: Its good to see that there are others. Dhoomketu and The Invisible Man have taken it forward. Taking a leaf out of the former's book, the story as it stands is below:

************
The airplane had been airborne an hour when she entered the toilet. She looked into the mirror and hated the girl of twenty going on sixty that she saw. The horrors she had seen and the family she had lost….

She mixed lip-gloss with Vaseline, stuck her mobile in the goo and walked out.

Slowly…

*****

Between the clothes, she tucked in small surprises. Moisturising lotion for her grandmother. Seaweed hair gel for her grandfather. The cologne her brother had been hinting at...

Later, she realised her lip-gloss had been checked in as well.Maybe she’d ask the girl next to her for some when she got back from the toilet.

*****

A bit of the viscid mixture was still on her fingers as she opened the door. She quickly massaged it into her full, round lips. Salty.

A kafir watched her and smiled appreciatively.

Bastard.

Somewhere, Akram sat staring at the bottle in his hand.

Fuck.

He'd given her the cyanide paste instead of the vaseline.

*****

She looked sort of hot (in an Asian way), though not friendly. That made him think. In the end he decided to give it a go, anyhow.

"May I borrow your vaseline, please? It's dry in here"

He added a friendly but restrained smile for effect. She looked around uncomfortably. He tried to look cool.

*****

She handed him the empty tube."It's not mine, it's available in the restroom. Go get one for yourself."

It was the friendliest she could be with kafirs.

She licked her lips again while sitting down. Salty.

Somewhere in her bag, the vaseline bottle had leaked open. Akram didn’t know that and pulled the trigger.

*****
First, cyanide for Vaseline, and now, a jammed trigger. Akram wasn’t having a great day.

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Empty tube in hand, Grober made a beeline for the restroom. I should have killed the bitch. Oh well, there’s still an hour to go before we land. He smiled cruelly. And saw the phone. The phone of his dreams.

5 Comments:

  • Recluse, your kind words are an exaggeration of my abilities as a writer. Chamique and you far exceed the level of inventiveness and imagination in my stories.

    That said, welcome aboard the 55 Express!

    By Blogger blr bytes, at 9:20 AM  

  • I crashed the party. Check my latest post. :)

    By Blogger Mr. D, at 1:55 PM  

  • Maybe I can jump on...but, would you want my twisted little mind?

    By Blogger Lahar, at 1:15 PM  

  • The more the merrier!

    By Blogger blr bytes, at 1:48 PM  

  • We'd love your twisted mind! Go ahead!!!

    By Blogger Recluse, at 4:35 PM  

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