Short Short Stories

For those who have a way with words.
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Davies
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Short Short Stories

Post by Davies »

There was once a miller who had a daughter of whom he was perhaps too proud, and whom he claimed could spin straw into gold. News of this boastful claim reached the ears of the king, who summoned father and daughter both to the court. There they were presented with an ultimatum -- the daughter had until the morning to perform this feat, or she would be sentenced to death. Locked in a tower room with a spinning wheel and a large amount of straw, the young lady bewailed her fate.

It was then that a fey spirit, of the sort who normally confines their mischief to rattling pillars and planks, made himself known to her and offered to assist her in exchange for her first born child. As she was not the sentimental type, and as the odds of her living to have children seemed remote at that time, she agreed to the deal. By morning's first light, she was in possession of a large amount of gold, and was once more brought before the king.

"Well," said the king. "It seems you were telling the truth after all, goodman. How sad for both you and your daughter. Had she simply admitted that this boast of yours was a lie, we would have suspended your sentence and let you both off with a whipping to remind you of your proper station in life. As it happens, you are now proved to be in possession of supernatural powers which could pose a great threat to our realm. Therefore, you will both be burned at the stake, sentence to be carried out at once. Guards!"

And they were. This really annoyed the fey spirit, but not nearly as much as the failure of a similar scheme would much later.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
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Davies
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Re: Short Short Stories

Post by Davies »

It so happened that a pair of swindlers once attempted to practice their craft on a notoriously vain and foolish emperor, by pretending to sew a suit of clothes for him while doing nothing. At the end of their labor, they presented the alleged suit of clothes to him, explaining that they were made of a special material that simple people could not see.

The emperor stared for a moment at the empty space where the suit of clothes should have been, then nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "Well, on the one hand, you have given me a priceless gift, and so I thank you for this splendid suit of clothes. However, if I were to, for example, engage in a promenade while wearing them before my subjects -- many of whom are, alas, quite simple -- I would appear to be naked before them. And that would be a most humiliating experience. Therefore, guards! Execute these talented merchants, please!"

And they did.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
Thorpocalypse
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Re: Short Short Stories

Post by Thorpocalypse »

I love these. kind of like Twilight Zone takes on some classic fairy tales. :)
Me fail English? That's unpossible. - Ralph Wiggum
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Davies
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Re: Short Short Stories

Post by Davies »

Thank you!
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
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Davies
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Re: Short Short Stories

Post by Davies »

At one point, there was a young girl who wore a hooded cloak that was really more brown than red, owing to certain sumptuary laws enforced in her homeland. It so happened that she was sent by her mother to take a basket of baked goods to her grandmother, who lived on the other side of a forested region. While passing through the forest, she was confronted by a wolf. "And where might you be going on this fine day?" asked the surprisingly verbal creature.

"Why, I am going to visit my grandmother, who lives --" And here she paused, as though considering the likely outcome of this statement. However, she had been raised to tell the truth, and so continued to describe the residence of her grandmother.

"I see! Well, take care on your journeys!" replied the wolf. "I must now bid you good day." And with that he departed.

Nodding slightly to herself, and taking the lesson she had just learned to heart, she turned around and skipped back home.

Her mother was somewhat surprised that she was back so soon, and so she told her that, "Grandma wasn't home when I got there. I think something might have happened to her. Perhaps you should ask the huntsman to check in on her soon." And with that, she started eating the baked goods.

What? They can't all involve summary execution.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
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Davies
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Re: Short Short Stories

Post by Davies »

There was once a man who worked patiently and carefully to discover threats to the security of his nation, and had, much to his horror, discovered one originating from within that nation. Seeking help, he went to his trusted mentor and described what he had learned. It was then that his mentor asked him, "Have you told anyone else about this?"

"Yes," he promptly answered, carefully considering the fastest way of exiting the room where they were speaking. "Dozens of people."

"You really don't lie all that well," said his mentor, and shot him.

Being genre-savvy is not always helpful.
"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm not sorry I love you."
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