A collection of short stories by R.M. Dolin from 2024
It’s said novelist are people who can’t write short stories and short story writers are people who can’t write poems. Hemingway invented the six word short story genre and quite possibly created the perfect entry when he wrote, “For sale. Baby shoes. Never used.” It really is a complete short story in six words evoking grand imaginary. Here’s a collection of my humble offerings to this simple yet fascinating genre.
You’re hesitant. I’m uncertain. Love’s lost.
Bitter winter storm. Truck on empty.
Turn here. Drive past that house.
Chocolates gather dust. Expiration date expired.
She waits alone. Thunder shapes darkness.
I laugh at magic, then disappear.
Your willful silence. My absent answer.
To understand you, I became you.
I don’t need you! Damn it.
Yes go. No. Please not again.
Secret love. Powerful passion. Manic moment.
How can I not love you?
Deafening darkness. Moonlight glistening barrel. Scream!
Only words on bomb, “call 911.”
The bomb reads, “open on delivery.”
USA 15 kilometers. Agua 236 pesos.
Climbs are clumsy. Descents more treacherous.
“F@#* You!” she shouts storming out.
Ma Cher: I still love you.
You ran. I stayed. Who wins?
Chopin with morning coffee. Tearful regrets.
I kept chocolates meant for you.
I always knew I’d know you.
You always knew this would end.
In Paris, I shall find you.
Desperation sins, Surrender suffers. Choose wisely.
Write my story with cold indifference.
I didn’t think you’d be real.
Turbulence travels. Gravity follows. Sorrow’s insufficient.
His lovelock radically woke repressed emotions.
She shouts “stop!” but he doesn’t.
He yells “stop!” Only she can’t. (How are these two stories different?)
Of course I’m cliche, you’re not?
Overnighted at airport. Rousted by TSA.
Yes, love exists. Probable trumps possible.
In my dreams, you still care.
You preach temperance. I do shots.
Dented door. Broken toe. Cops coming.
Your communication blackout. Me overthinking context.
Damn it all to hell . . . again!
Morning induced laughter. It doesn’t last.
Paradise is waking to your touch.
Her nervous smile. Knock on door.
She should escape. He would follow.
Last chance at redemption. She decides.
Dreams for sale. Buyer best beware.
Recklessness and water are seldom kind.
