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Quick links on this page:

about 81words - 81words writing challenge rules & how to submit - read 81word stories

The History of 81words

How 81words Started was a flash fiction website started by Adam Rubinstein. He's a self-professed educational basket-case from the 70’s who says he finds his sense of meaning and well-being through creativity.

Adam Rubinstein

Adam Rubinstein, founder of

Adam said:

"A long time ago, a few years after wasting most of my time at school, I entered a competition to write a story in 50 words. There were options for five different genres and each had a different paragraph given as the starting point. I didn't win but really enjoyed the challenge of carefully crafting words to create a beautiful jewel. Something perfect and complete in itself.

"The experience stayed with me and I thought it might be something lots of us could enjoy. An opportunity to be creative in an accessible way that isn’t too demanding on our time. So 81 words was born."

Writing Improvement Software

Why 81words Is Now Part of

I first became aware of 81words when Adam contacted me in January 2015 asking if his website could be added to my lists of short story and flash fiction competitions.

After creating the listing, I decided to have a go at the 81word challenge and submitted a story. It was called 'Love is Difficult for Zombies'.

Love Is Difficult For Zombies by Christopher Fielden on

Screenshot of Love is Difficult for Zombies from the website

I then wrote about 81words in my book, How to Write a Short Story, Get Published & Make Money. I'd decided to investigate including some advice about flash fiction in the book after liaising with authors that said they struggle to find the time to write due to long working hours.

How to Write a Short Story

The 81 word story only took me about half-an-hour to write. I submitted it straight away and it was published within 10 minutes. I used this as a case study, to illustrate how quickly you could become a published writer by using flash fiction sites like 81words - achievable, even if you're the busiest person on the planet.

In April 2017 Adam contacted me again. He was developing a new project called Fretmeister, which was working really well. This meant he didn't have time to give 81words the attention it needed.

While Adam didn't have time to run 81words, he thought it would be a shame if it just disappeared as it had a lot of active users. He asked me if I'd like to take it on. I agreed.

There were 2 options of how to proceed:

  1. PLAN A: run 81words in its current form - it was largely automated, so I was hoping it wouldn't take up much time
  2. PLAN B: create a landing page on my site that continued what Adam had started

A few users from my email list expressed an interest in getting involved with helping me run the wesite, which was very much appreciated. Big thanks to them.

In the end, I went for PLAN B. 81words had a lot of users (about 2,500) but it didn't receive very much traffic (only around 10 visits a day).

If the traffic levels were high enough, I planned to monetise the site using Google AdSense, so the ongoing running-costs (d0main, hosting, updates etc.) were covered. That would mean users could carry on enjoying the site for free.

Unfortunately, with low traffic levels, this option wasn't financially viable, so I redirected the website onto this page and opened the 81word Writing Challenge. That meant users could still try the 81 word flash fiction writing challenge out for free and see their work published. However, I had to abandon the user voting system as the cost of installing it onto my site wasn't practical.

So, this is the new home of 81words. You can read and submit stories further down the page.

81words on Social Media

Here are links to the 81words social media profiles:

I've kept the social media profiles for 81words live. I'm not sure how much they'll get used in the future, but I thought it would be nice to keep them for the sake of history.

81words Email Addresses

81words used to have 2 active emails associated with it. They were:


These emails are no longer checked and have permanent autoresponders on them. If you want to contact me about 81words, please visit my contact page.

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81words Writing Challenge - Rules & How To Submit

The submission criteria are nice and simple:

  • Stories must be EXACTLY 81 words in length
  • please include a title for your story (not included in the word count)
  • entry is FREE
  • anyone can submit
  • 1 entry per person
  • no profanity please - all the writing challenges on this website are shared with children
  • your 81word stories will be published on this page
  • at some point in the future, the stories MIGHT be published in an anthology - this will depend on time and other commitments
  • by submitting, you accept the terms and conditions
  • IF any anthologies are published, you will be involved in the book launch process
  • submit your story using the comments form below

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81word Stories

Below you will find all the 81word stories submitted to the 81word Writing Challenge. I hope you enjoy reading them.

The stories are published in the order they were received.

The first story, by me,appeared on the 81word website in January 2015 and is featured in the screenshot further up the page.

Story 001

Love is Difficult for Zombies

by Christopher Fielden


"No, Edward."

"Want brains. Now."

"No one wants to give you their brains. You're certainly not having mine."

"Must have brains."

"Edward, stop it."

"Sweet, spicy brains."

"I have a headache."

"Want your juicy brains."

"I told you to go to A&E when that thing bit you. You never listen to me."


"Eating brains isn't socially acceptable. There are still more people than zombies."

"Hungry. Want lovely brains."

"I can't take this, Edward. I'm leaving."

"Need brains."

"Goodbye, Edward."

Story 002


by Michael Rumsey

I do not like dogs, never have. Daniel should have consulted me before bringing that crazy stray home. One pet in the house is enough.

Typically, Bruno turned out to be loud, boisterous and charges around like the proverbial bull in a china shop. But he does have one redeeming attribute.

I take a nap every afternoon. Bruno ensures no other strays enter our garden allowing me to sit up in our apple tree and purr away to my heart's content.

Story 003

The Tragically Unforeseen Consequences of a Hopeful Request

by Jerry Wilson

Once upon a time there was a little doorknob. All day long, he sighed, "Oh, how I wish I were a mirror. Then people would look at me and smile."

The Good Doorknob Fairy had heard about enough. Grabbing her magic wand and her tiara, she flew on down.

"What, Dude?"

"Oh, Good Doorknob Fairy, please turn me into a mirror."

"No probs."

Poof. The little doorknob became a bright, shiny mirror.

And no one could get the damned door open.

Story 004

Remember Eighty-One?

by Allen Ashley

Yes, I remember eighty-one. A year of strife. The transport system in meltdown. Workers and management at loggerheads. Fears about automation in the workplace leading to further job losses. Poor air quality. Urban health scares. Governments considering land grabs and ready to send in an army at any provocation. The media finding convenient foreign scapegoats. Nobody seemed to be sticking up for the ordinary working man. Or woman. Why have I not mentioned Thatcher? I was talking about 2081. And 1881...

Story 005

The Night Sentry

by Sivan Pillai

"He is a notorious housebreaker and we were in search of him," the policeman said.

The man was lying unconscious under the coconut tree. There was a huge bump on his head and a coconut lay nearby.

Only last evening we had decided to cut the tree down and plant a new one in its place. It had grown far too old and bore very few nuts.

Perhaps this was its way of telling us that it could still be useful.

Story 006

Dullest I've Ever Seen

by Rene Astle

"Nobody could say that I'm dull."

"I'm not saying it to you."

"Then why can I hear you talking about how dull I become while wedging potatoes?"

"Because you always forget about peeling."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I shouldn't believe you, that's for sure."

"Be quiet, you fool. You're only saying that because you couldn't tell the difference between success and failure."

"Good grief, do I have to go through it once in a while?"

"Not for a longer while, you coot."

Story 007

City Limits

by Christopher Searle

This city is full of lies, anxious cries, and bickering wives. Walking through the street, you cannot escape the sound, of cars that drive, cooking fries, and criminal lives. There comes a time where a person craves something more, so open that door, and stop being such a bore.

Get on a bus and head out, listening to the engine grumbling, people mumbling, and shopping tumbling. To escape the city is such a pity, hopefully somewhere new is not as gritty.

Story 008

Which one is Earth?

by David Turton

Annie gazed at the dark sky and squeezed Penny's hand.

"Which one is Earth, Nana?"

Penny looked up, identifying a blue-ish speck in the blackness. She knelt and pointed, ensuring Annie's vision was aligned with her fingertip. 

Tears formed in the old woman's eyes.

"How long ago was it since everyone had to leave there, Nana?" Annie asked.

Wiping away her tears, Penny sighed.

"It's been thirty-three years now," she replied.

"Do you miss it?"

"Every day, darling." Her tears flowed.

Story 009

Just Good Friends

by John Notley

Calixste was a one-off who befriended me when I entered the Livingstone Bar, used by the expats in Cotonou. He spoke french and was known throughout the town as a wheeler-dealer, part souvenir seller, part realty agent.

He took me on the back of his motorbike to seedy bars in the heart of Cotonou where I felt perfectly safe in the company of this short, round faced African who looked like a younger Louis Armstrong.

Sadly, Calixste has gone.

Story 010

The Secret

by Gemma Bridges

I have a secret that I hide everyday. A deep melancholy that only hits me in the dead of the night, or with a surge of endorphins from those beautiful songs of the past, and only ever when I let my mind truly wander. My dreams always take me there, leading me to my secret like it's my only path. They taunt me with delusions that he's here. My thoughts, they float to him. I love him. That is my secret.

Story 011

Pouring Petrol on Each Heartbeat

by Jamie Graham

The screeching brakes. Somehow still on the road at the foot of the hill, the petrol warning beep changed everything. She pulled in, got out and put the nozzle in the open back window, squeezing the trigger hard. His crumpled body, sprawled on the rear seats, hanging in there. Unaware.

She turned and disappeared, screaming into the wilderness at the back of the forecourt, the bottom of her skirt well alight. Running helplessly on her very last legs, eyes closed tight.

Story 012

Sticks and Stones

by Wayne Hewitt

"Dwarf planet, you loser."

Charon, Styx, Nix, Kerberos and Hydra had circled Pluto, taunting the so-called ruler of the underworld and protector of the solar system for the past four point five billion years.

Pluto, no longer the ninth planet, wept uncontrollably, knowing what this meant.

From within the Kuiper Belt, Eris, goddess of strife and discord, smiled at her opportunity, ejecting a moon sized plasma ball burning at a billion degrees Fahrenheit directly towards Earth.

This time, words would hurt.

Story 013

Broken Promise

by John Holmes

He had promised her that he'd live until his 90th.

The doctor sighed, lowered his head and closed the front door behind him.

Slowly she climbed back upstairs and entered their bedroom of 70 years.

Her lips felt the cold of his forehead.

"You promised not to die. You promised."

Picking up the present from the bed, she could feel the warmth of her own tears.

One drop splashed onto the wrapping paper.

The receipt was still lying in her purse.

Story 014

King of the Forest

by Len Saculla

On a walking and back to nature holiday, I became lost and in need. Close to death, I was saved by a dryad. Yes, the patient fixates on the kindly medic but... I fell in love with her.

As soon as I could, I quit my job. I headed for the enchanted wood. We required the king's permission to marry.

Her green hands led me to a central clearing dominated by a giant oak tree.

I waited. The tree spoke.

Happy outcome.

Story 015

The Cat and the Rat

by Bruce Donaldson

The cat and the rat,

Who were both rather fat,

Liked cheese if you please,

On a sticky jam tart,

And to wash it all down,

Drank water from a tap,

And with bellies quite full,

Took their afternoon nap.


The cat and the rat,

Were both rather smart.

They could count to ten,

If you gave them a start.

They could both climb trees,

As a matter of fact,

Where they'd often drink tea,

With a bird or a bat.

Story 016

Land Rights

by Sandra Orellana

"Cultivate Peace," he said loudly. "Don't built a wall between our neighbors."

"Who, me? I'm a winner. I won, and we'll make the wall."

"We want to love our neighbour," a citizen shouted. "You're like a mad dog, looking for wars. We want peace and to be respected."

"Who is going to pay for the wall?" a native yelled. "Not us, for sure, our land was taken."

The leader shouted back, "We will make the wall."

"Who's we?" a citizen responded.

Story 017

Billy Kneel

by Ben Dickenson Bampton

There were a few sceptics that night, but I trusted Billy Kneel. He was the man-boy we all followed, whether out of fear or childish admiration I don't know.

Five a.m.

No noise save the birds.

The campsite far behind, I plodded after this beast, fearful but too invested now to turn back.

Steps became slushy as we descended into the bog. Billy waited. I caught up and there he was. Face down - rigid - Rees Parker really was dead.

Story 018


by Nadia Tahmina

As they roll her into the Resus Lab, the blood drains from my fingers due to the death grip I have on the trolley.

"The bullets perforated the right lung."

"Circulation compromised."

"Get two units of O-neg in."

Fingers meddle with her wounds. There's more blood coming out of her than going in.

"We need to intubate, she's not responding."

Why did she have to go and be my saviour? If only she had known I was wearing a bulletproof vest.

Story 019


by Mabel Manning

She could hear the tattooed rhythm on the baby monitor. Tangled and taught, the wires chained her to the operating table of white and blue and red.


Straining ears heard fading, echoed heartbeats inside, which tortured the fabric of her soul; her very being was tearing apart.

No. Please, no.

Sobs wracked her body – at least the parts that still retained feeling – as the beats stilled. She felt exhaustion in everything she was; everything that could have been.

Then silence.

Story 020

A Christmas Story

by A Williamson

It was snowing on Christmas eve. Old Mrs Stuart was decorating the last of the buns. A loud knock brought her to the door.

"Hark the herald angels sing..."

Mrs Stuart ran to get some buns for the small group, but on running back, they were gone.

The most beautiful singers ever heard, she thought.

Over the bridge, the village carolers stopped.

"What about old Mrs Stuart's house?"

"No point," said the tenor. "She is as deaf as a door post..."

Story 021

Dangerous Playtime

by Louise Burgess

"One, two, buckle my shoe."

Lilly happily sings as she smiles at her own reflection in the pen knife she has taken out his Survival bag. Then, in one swift movement, she uses it to slice off his little toe.

Paul's ear piercing screams echoed in the dimly lit basement.

"Please," he begs her, just before passing out from the pain.

"Three, four, knock on the door," Lilly sings again, searching in his bag for her next toy to play with.

Story 022

The Annelid's Fate

by Willard Sheen

The bird seized the worm in its beak and yanked it out of the soft earth. The worm fell to the ground, where it writhed in the grass. Suddenly it raised its pointed head and thrashed out in the direction of its attacker.

The bird grabbed the worm in its beak again and, with a jerk of its head, swallowed the worm.  Then it hopped away to search for more food.

Even when the worm turns, it's still only a worm.

Story 023

Time For Trust

by Diane Harding

"It's time."

"Time for what?"

"Time to give you the message."

"What's the message?"

"It's about the lotto results."

"You mean I've won?"

"Yes, the billion dollars."

"Wow. I am lucky, aren't I?"

"You could be."

"What? Where is the ticket?"

"Here. You gave it to me to check out at the newsagent."

"Of course. Well, I can always trust you."

"Yes. I suppose."

"Am I right?"

"Yes. You are right."


"So, it's time."

"Time for what now?"



Story 024


by Maddy Hamley

He lowered the book and sighed.

Still nothing.

Perhaps he should throw their wretched grimoire back through the portal, but that would give the creatures the wrong impression. He could not afford to scare them off.

Instead, he closed the tome reverentially, muttering thanks to the beings for their patience, and placed it on the shelf behind him.

He knew he had the right incantation. It was just a matter of persistence.

Maybe next time they would bring his daughter back.

Story 025

Happy Landings

by Alan Barker

"We are preparing to land. The exits are at the front and rear," indicated Max to his friends, Will and Jay. "Do not move until the doors are opened. Outside is a pleasant twenty degrees. On behalf of the captain and crew, we hope you'll fly with us again soon."

"Max, you are not on your air steward's course now," teased Will. "If you are going to perform like this every time we use the lift, we're using the escalators, mate."

Story 026

Don't Judge A Book By It's Cover

by Barry Smith

No matter what people look like, it’s amazing what they can do. I should know, because I have a physical disability. I might need a hand to do things, but my mind is all there.

I user a power chair when I’m out, but when l’m in the house, I move around on my bum. And I can be fast too.

When people don’t understand what I’m saying to them, I type it into my Lightwriter, which is a communication aide.

Story 027

The Man of Shadows

by Carl Taylor

Tonight I sit, as I have many times before, surrounded by the darkness which tries to drag me into the vast emptiness of death. The cold crawls through the cracks, clawing at my face and burning my skin. Each step from above hammers down like thunder from the skies.


With each thunderous crash, I wonder if the man of shadows will come and punish me for my innocence. Every night I wait, wait for the man of shadows.

Story 028

Tycoon Tommy

by Lesley Truchet

I hate school.


Week 1 to 3, I nicked goods from shops. 

Week 4, I sold the stuff on eBay.

Week 5, I was running to the post office with parcels. The money rolled in.

Next week, I’ll car boot the rest. Mum will think I’m clearing my room and she’ll help out with her car.

Last summer I made £750.00. This summer will be around £1,000. 

This time next year, I’m gonna be a millionaire.

I hate school.

Story 029

Hi-Yo, Silver, Away

by Victoria Syrett

"What the hell is this mess?"

"Well, it's a funny story..."

"It better be side splitting."

"Well, I was sitting down watching the lone ranger and the theme tuned started – you know, 'William Tell Overture'."

"I'm not seeing the funny."

"Well, the cat heard it and jumped off the chair, up the curtains, over the mantelpiece, back on to the sofa and slid over the coffee table."

"So where's the cat now?"

"She jumped onto the dog and they rode off."

Story 030

26 Years Old

by Jane Menzies

"I'm trying to help her, to save her life," she screamed from the intensive care unit. "Please come back."

But she couldn't go back. Her child was no longer alive. She'd known that for at least eight hours.

Her family were saying, “Her blood pressure has risen a bit, I think I saw a flicker in her eye.”

She knew there was no return as she flung open the double doors and ran for her life...

It was all over, forever.

Story 031

Customer Returns

by Claire Temple

Wheelers in the village contains a forest of mannequins. What a thing to be afraid of at my age. But hip replacement or no, I must take back my granddaughter's faulty dress.



As I pull back a dusty gold curtain I see my lifetime's recurring dream. Limbs. Lips. Broken.

I'm returned, exchanged and lost. My best dress snags. I shiver. I'm only four years old. If I wait like a still shop dummy, I'm sure I'll be found soon.

Story 032

My Nemesis

by Tracey Maitland

I hate you and love you simultaneously. I want you out of my life but can't see it through. You drag me down, make me ill, breathless and lethargic. You are no good for me, and yet I am drawn to you every time, you're always on my mind.

I watch you with repulsion and desire as you burn, emitting an aroma only an addict desires.  Smoke slowly rises and twists, a dancing serpent, mesmerising, robbing me of health and wealth.

Story 033


by Crilly O'Neil

Put the paper down for heaven's sake. Get up and do something. Empty the dishwasher, fold the washing or, for a real change, make dinner for me.

The words stuck in her throat like cold porridge.

And this is what she said.

"I know you've had a hard day and you are tired. It's fine. You put your feet up, darling. I'll make the meal. Folding the washing can wait."

She kicked off her shoes, poured a wine and started again.

Story 034


by Daniel L. Link

Recognition makes my skin redden, my face sweat, like being hit with the steam from a boiling pot. I can't remember when last I saw her, but the years have wrought little change.

The train starts forward, and she stands on the platform watching after me. My rush to the back of the car is halted by a large man standing in the aisle. A look through the window shows her still there, and I watch until she’s out of sight.

Story 035

Merely a Grumble

by Michelle Konov

It is with neither a bang or a whimper that it ends, but with a grumble that sticks in her throat, ripping itself hoarsely out from between tight lips. He can see the moment her defenses go up and thinks, rather abjectly, that even beyond being over, perhaps it had never begun.

She turns with a startling huff and walks away, back ramrod straight, and he finds himself caught in a jumble of emotion.

So what if he was a stalker?

Story 036


by Aloysius Goh

What the hell do I write about? he thought, his mind in a whirl. And as he sat there thinking, people scurrying around, the cacophony of voices of those around him diminished ever so slightly into a barely audible drone of hushed whispers.

This is nice, he thought, nice and quiet. I could sit here all da–

"Sorry sir, we're closing up here."

"What do you m–"

It's 9:58PM.

"I've only just got in," he would've said as silence settled.

Story 037

The Winner

by Mack

Jeff was there to win the flash short story contest. He had collected hundreds of rejections, but this time he would win.

Crissy had her back to the door, her face buried in the computer screen, small fingers rejecting the latest contestants with little taps on the keyboard.

Jeff fired and Crissy’s blood, bone and flesh spattered the computer screen. Calmly, Jeff scanned down the list between the bloody splatter on the screen and found his name. He typed, 'The winner.'

Story 038

All Achievements are Relative

by Liam Lawer

Victory. After all this time. Holding tightly as he lifted it higher, he gazed at the cup in wonder. Disbelief and euphoria overcame him in equal measure. He had done it. He had finally won.

Sweat formed on his brow and tears filled his eyes. His family celebrated around him, filled with pride. In their private shame, they had doubted this moment would ever transpire.

He looked at his new arm as the cup reached his dry, trembling lips.

"Perfect cuppa."

Story 039


by Norm Veasman

"He was an uninspired man, indulgent to his base instincts, lacking the values his Creator would cherish. His death was mundane and unnecessary, leaving behind not a grieving family, but a disillusioned widow and children who never knew anything save his façade. We mourn today a life, not a life well lived..."

The Pastor stopped there, balled up the words, and tossed them into the fireplace. As flames destroyed the truth, he began to write the lies the mourners would hear.

Story 040

Easy Prey

by Olivia Robinson

I subconsciously rubbed at my wrists where the cuffs used to be, still expecting the cool metal surface to graze my fingers, being only half surprised to feel my raw calloused skin instead.

My gaze shifted and was met with a blinding light. My heart stopped. I was a deer caught in headlights, easy prey. As I lowered myself to the floor, I heard two things: an angelic voice bellowing my name and a gun shot.

Then there was only silence.

Story 041

John Delaney

by S. W. Hardy

Some people want to be remembered. Others do not. John Delaney belonged in the second category.

He grew up, consuming food, then expelling what he didn’t need.

He worked a job, spending money, then discarding what he didn’t need.

He possessed no friends, nor an interest in his family or their affairs, although he took pride in his marvellously kept bedspread.

One day, in the early hours of an undisclosed morning at an undetermined time, John Delaney died – a contented man.

Story 042

Waters and Stones – Mothers and Daughters

by Özge Göztürk

"I'm getting the stars if you want me to buy the book."

"I said, if you want the book you can, I'm not insisting on it. But definitely no toys today."

"These are stars, not toys."

"You bought similar ones before, they didn't even glow in the dark properly."

"No. I'm not reading the book if I'm not getting a toy."

"You're not getting a toy to read a book. Leave it."

"I'm not going to read anything anymore."

"Oh dear…"

Story 043


by Paul Shaw

Toby was honey-coloured and quite as sweet. He lived with Suzy in her room. Toby had been with her family a long time and was very old. Suzy was only four. He was her best friend and even sat with her as she ate.

Toby never ate when Suzy did. He was a toy bear and didn’t eat fish fingers or other food that humans like. He ate only when Suzy was fast asleep. Then, every night, he ate Suzy’s dreams.

Story 044

The Fall

by Abhi Shan

I remembered falling. Scared, heart pounding and eyes bulging with the adrenaline rush. When I came to halt, I was unhurt. Surprised, lost and confused, I looked around but it was dark. No glimmer of light or hope. I lurched around in all directions at once to find the exit. I stumbled and fell again, but this time it was short and painful. I opened my eyes and touched my bloody nose. A faint light reminded me of what just happened... nightmares.

Story 045

The Blind Date

by Christine O'Donnell

If he's more than ten minutes late I'm gone. Would it look too obvious if I check my watch again? OK, grabbing my bag and– Is that him? Please say that isn't him...

Of course, this would be how your date went, sitting across from Foghorn voice, watching spinach get increasingly meshed within his giant gnashers.

Oh fabulous, another story about his ex.

Nod and smile, it won't be long until you're back home.

Whatever you do, never again blind date.

Story 046


by Caroline Wright

They say I have to leave.

Notice has arrived that I am to be compulsorily evicted. Overcrowding. That's the official term they are using. It is a small place but it is adequate for my needs. I have everything I want here. It's comfortable. I have ventilation and washing facilities.

The powers that be say I will be going to a nice place. 

I don't care. I like it here.

I am being pushed out.

I don't want to be born.

Story 047

Furborg's Caution

by Ian Tucker

As a kitten, Furborg caught flu and almost died.

Accidentally drinking floor cleaner claimed another life shortly afterwards.

When young he'd underestimated the strength of a fox.

And he once fell three storeys from a roof.

The vase that toppled onto him wasn't his fault.

And every cat has one bad experience with curiosity.

One time, he ate the wrong sort of grass.

Recently, there was the incident with the yellow lorry.

Adding these up, Furborg is now much more cautious.

Story 048

The Missing Pie

by Kristina Moore

"Jimmy, where'd you hide my apple pie?"

Dad stayed home while Mother had taken us to church.

"I ate it."

"Don't be silly, where'd you put it?"

"I said, I ate it."

"Jimmy, that pie was as large as two roasters. It was supposed to feed the fifteen of us. Your stomach isn't big enough to have eaten all of it."

"See for yourself." The crumb filled pan lies empty in the sink.

Dad was never left alone with pie again.

Story 049

The Morning Rush

by Nick Fairclough

His son was mucking about.

Bag wasn't packed... Teeth weren't brushed... Shoes weren't on... How many times can one ask?

The father was becoming increasingly frustrated. His forehead resembled a deformed mountain range, the wrinkles caving in, collapsing like a landslide.

"Look at the time," the father shouted as he pointed to the clock hanging on the wall. "It's twenty past eight."

His son looked up to where his father had pointed, and yelled back, "Twenty isn't even on a clock."

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Your comments:

Sivan P
Congratulations for starting the 81words writing challenge.

Chris Fielden
Thanks Sivan. And thanks for submitting - much appreciated :-)

Willard S
Out of the 19 stories so far, I like number 8 best. A whole Sci-Fi story in 81 words. Nice!

Chris Fielden
Yes, pretty impressive in just 81 words :-)

Wayne H
Just read story number 028 Tycoon Tommy by Lesley Truchet... loved it, great work!!!

Chris Fielden
Thanks, Wayne, I'll let Lesley know :-)

Lesley T
Wayne, thank you so much. You've made my day.

David T
Willard S - thank you so much, I'm glad you like it :)