The one about the EOI Mini Saga contest ...

It is back.

The EOI Santiago Mini Saga contest is back, for a 6th time.

Fifty words exactly.

It was announced shortly before the Christmas break, and I promised myself I would write one during the holidays.

And here I am. Today is the day. I opened a new document in Word and stared at it for a bit. Daunting task to begin with, but after a while things got a bit better.

I ended writing five mini sagas, and here they are for your reading pleasure (or pain as it may be):

Writer’s block

A blank page. Granted, it is only a short story. More than that, a very short story. A mini saga they call it. Fifty words, no more and no less. And yet, why do I feel this terror? It is only a blank page, and I need one more word.

My dad, being helped to bed

Who are these stupid people and why are they attacking me? I must defend myself. Stop it, get away from me! I don’t know what you want from me. I will bite you if I have to. You are leaving me with no choice … Good night whoever you are.

 

I have a black dog, his name is depression

The days are gradually getting longer and soon we will have to set our clocks one hour forward. Another successful transit around the Sun. Does it really matter? Deep down we know it doesn’t. And yet, we all like to fill our meaningless days with hopes and dreams of self-importance. 

Romeo and Juliet

All good love stories are tragedies at heart, even the ones that end well. Don’t you agree? Love, it seems, needs to be fought for, struggled with, hurt by, and sometimes it even comes to death. All for a few fleeting moments of happiness and bliss. Is it worth it?

Out of the blue

Little did she know this was to be her final day.  Unbeknown to her, she wouldn’t need to think about what to cook for dinner tonight. Worrying about her mortgage would also be a thing of the past. It was quick and painless; there are far worse ways to die.

Which one should I submit?

....

One day later now.

Editing is always an important part of writing.

I am not sure if I am improving it at all, but here is a little re-write of the last story:

A bolt out of the blue sky

Little did she know this was to be her final day. No more needing to think about what to cook for dinner. Also, unbeknown to her, worrying about her mortgage payments would soon be a thing of the past. It came quick, painless; there are far worse ways to die.