Just something random...

I think I used to miss out on the concept of six word stories, somehow... Lately I've got interested in them, perhaps thanks to my love of haiku. I think I appreciate the depth that just a few words can hold more than I ever used to.
Anyway, I read some really wonderful six word stories around deviantART, and decided to try my hand at them for the first time. The results are...not so great, that's for sure, but I'm really happy that I wrote them! I'm going to work hard to remember to write more, and hopefully I can improve so that when a great bit of inspiration strikes me, I'll have the skills to write an incredible six word story. For now, since the only other things I have hanging about on my computer are terribly unfinished scraps of writing and I'm feeling a need to connect with the online world, I'll post up my first ever attempts at the style.
(Hope someone enjoys, maybe...)

Zip! Closing rips, and then, zip!

White hands on a shredded canvas.

She didn't laugh... A crushing defeat.

Death is drifting on the sea.

Realize gravity's a matter of perspective.

Poof! That's what alchemy's all about.

An orange door. How about you?

(Inspired in part by prompts provided by the dA group Quill-Cafe http://quill-cafe.deviantart.com/)

Granting Wishes

Scribble Date: 27/12/09

A brief and spontaneous piece written one night/morning at 3:00 a.m., inspired by the Quill-Cafe prompt 'Granting Wishes'. Enjoy the Scribble ^^

A tilt of his head, a small smirk; all too familiar to me.
    “So, you have another problem with how I grant your wishes?” He asks, lounging back in the ratty armchair, slender fingers raising a cigarette to his lips. I watch in silence as he takes a drag, exhaling a curling plume of smoke into the air of my apartment.
    “Or do you have another wish you need granted?”
    My continued silence is enough of an answer to him. His smirk widens, feline, predatory.
    “Oh ho ho. So the little wayward, angry bastard wants another favour.” He lowers the cigarette, taps his fingers against the arm of my chair. Ashes fall to the equally ratty carpet covering the floor.
    “Alright, spit it out. What’s it gonna be this time? A new job? A new lover? A new place?” He leans forward, resting one elbow on his knee, a hint of some vicious, eager sentiment hovering on his features. I can never place that little expression, but I hate it. It reminds me that chances are, I’m the one who’s going to lose out again.
    I take a deep breath. Steeling myself, I raise my eyes to meet his, careful. No emotions showing.
    “I want to take down the civilized world.”
    His cruel, feral smirk widens into an equally disturbing grin as he lowers his hand again, grinding out the tip of his cigarette on my armchair.
    “Heh. Now we’re talking.”