The Tarsier

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

Every morning at 8AM, I show up at work and remove the tarsier from my laptop. The tarsier is nocturnal, like all tarsiers, so it spends its evenings hopping around the office, eating insects and listening to Hank Mobley records. As daylight approaches, the tarsier will reconfigure my laptop into a makeshift lean-to and get some shut-eye. Big shut eye. Usually, I’ll move the grumpy fella to a small cushioned box underneath my desk. I’ll hear him snoring all day. Great guy, the tarsier. Reads a lot of books on economics.

Cosmic Charlie

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“I was talking to those girls. I told ‘em about when I jumped my mongoose off the rocks behind Tom’s house.”

“What’d they say?”

“They were wicked into it. One of ‘em is totally hot.”

“Yeah.”

“I do some wild stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m unpredictable. Like Jimmy Valiant.”

“Yeah.”

“My cousins call me Wildstar.”

“Yeah.”

“You ever do any shit?”

“I rolled up a sheet of blotter acid and shoved it up my ass. I was in the hospital all summer.”

“…”

“…”

“My cousin has a wicked cool drum set.”

Godzilla

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“Can we get a camera over here? Thank you. This man… Sir, you came within, what, one hundred feet of Godzilla.”

“Yes, I was in the bank building when he came by. It was insane. When he walked, people were bouncing off the floor.”

“Did you get any footage with your iPhone?”

“No. It melted to my hand, actually.”

“What?”

“He blasted us with his radioactive breath.”

“Oh, is that why you’re all burnt up and smoldering and shit?”

“Yes.”

My Father Yelled At God

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

My dad yelled at God. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at my mother. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at the television. He yelled at God. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at my mother. She left. He yelled at the empty house. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at God. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at his girlfriend. He yelled at Vladimir Horowitz. He yelled at Satie. He yelled at Bill Evans. He yelled at the piano. He yelled at God and he yelled at the piano.

He never yelled at me, though.

After he died, The University of Southern California did a retrospective of his work. Yo Yo Ma showed up.

Your Son Is An Asshole

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“How many sons do you have?”

“Three.”

“Which one has the blond hair?”

“Ryan.”

“He’s kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah. Yeah. He can be.”

“I mean, I don’t know where he gets it, but he’s a deflector. You and Mike aren’t deflectors. I mean, you guys both have your problems, but you’re generally straight-up people. You take responsibility for your actions.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah. I don’t know where it gets that.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah.”

“What did he do?”

“He rang my doorbell and ran away.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.
”

“That’s what he did; he rang the doorbell and ran away?”

“Yeah. I had to get up.”

“What the hell is he doing ringing your doorbell? You’re a sex offender. You’re a registered sex offender. What the hell is he doing ringing your fucking doorbell?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“I think that’s illegal.”

“What?”

“Not him ringing your doorbell. The part about you being within 500 yards of him. That’s illegal.”

“Well… yeah.”

“OK. If he rings your doorbell again, call me up. I’ll call the police and have you arrested.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, I think we’ve got this covered, Bo Diddley.”

Astoria

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“How did you meet daddy?”

“I went to an Indian restaurant with my boyfriend at the time, who was studying modern culture and media in college. He was writing his thesis on the important role of Marxism in Northern Exposure. Your father bumped into our table and my boyfriend at the time told him to fuck off. So your father beat him up in front of the whole place. I fell in love on the spot. I could hear my own heart beating over the sound of my boyfriend at the time’s shrieking and groveling.”

“Do you keep in touch with your old boyfriend?”

“He contacted me after your father won the Oscar. He was working in a vegan restaurant in Astoria and kept crying. It was really funny.”

Off Menu

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“How are you, Mr. Oop?”

“Hungry. What’s the special?”

“Endive, Pear and roquefort salad.”

“Ah, I don’t eat nothing but bearcat stew.”

“You ask every fucking time, though.”

“…”