very short stories

Here is a link to a 50 word story competition.

Dear ETA Colleagues

To celebrate AATE’s 50th Anniversary this year, we are inviting entries for a ’50 Word Fiction’ competition.
The competition is open to students in years 7-12, and to all ETA members.
Teachers are encouraged to involve their students by asking them to write an original short story of exactly 50 words on the theme ‘Golden Stories’.
Prizes will be awarded in three categories: Junior (years 7/8/9), Senior (years 10/11/12) and Masters – ETA members (teachers and pre-service teachers, Life Members, etc)

Winning entries and other notable submissions will be printed in a special ‘Golden Stories’ anthology.
Submissions are due to AATE by the end of Term 3. Entrants should use the submission form provided.

Writing a 50 word story loosely using the theme “Golden Stories”

1. It needs to be a complete story with a beginning, middle and end
2. Try and be descriptive, humorous, challenging, spooky, mysterious, imaginative, interesting
3. Often they can have a ‘twist’ at the end
4. Use words carefully – much like a poet does to convey ideas and images

Here are some examples and where I found them:


A slither of first light strikes his closed lids. Blinking, he half-wakes amid blurred, candle-lit memories of red velvet and starched white tables. Images crystallise of bubbly glasses and fireside laughter. Culinary perfection, complemented by the best vintage wine.
He rises into his cold room to type the next chapter.

Cowboy Antics (

The horse was galloping too fast. Suddenly, it shied. He clung to the saddle for dear life, the increase of pressure startled the horse, and it bucked, trying to get rid of its discomfort. As he started to fall off, the horse stopped.
He stood and inserted another forty cents.

Balloon Trouble (

Ten men were hanging on a rope from a hot air balloon. They pondered and asked who would bravely jump off. One man shouted that he would risk his life to save others. He gave a heart warming speech and after that, the nine other men clapped. One Man survived

Early Morning Call (

I was lying in bed when the phone rang. Sleepily, I picked up the receiver to answer it, and realized something was wrong. I put the tube of hand cream down on my bedside table, put my glasses on, and picked up the real phone, instead.
It was nothing important.

Foiled again! (
The octopus sat limp on the floor. Tentacles splayed across tiles. Martin looked at it, then, with a shrug of his shoulders, reached down, grabbed the octopus by it’s squishy head and tossed it back into the fish tank. He shook his head in bewilderment. “Every damn day,” he muttered.

Primal Instinct (
Riley smoked behind Walgreens. She named the local cat Miggles. She gave cigarettes to the bum near the dumpster. He had liquor breath; asked for food money. She never gave him any; he was a drunk. She hadn’t seen Miggles in awhile. The bum had stopped asking for food.

The Wolf (
The very moment that I walked shyly past her, a bloke cycled by and wolf whistled. She turned, not spotting the cyclist, staring accusingly. “Innocent” I shrugged. We chatted, dated, fell madly deeply and married. She still believes I was the whistler. Best leave it that way. Bless you bikeman.


We were married sixty years. Only after she passed did I find her box of unsent letters to a man in Leicester she once loved with ‘an unremitting fervour.’ I was broken-hearted, of course, and planned to track him down. With a name like E. Humperdink, it would be easy.

The Writing process


Good writing goes through a process which begins with brainstorming. This can be done in a graphic orgaiser or it can be done by placing words and phrases on paper rapidly without deep thought.

My effort.

I wanted the ending to be the surprise and thought about a person waking up suddenly. I had two goes at it. They aren’t brilliant but they ARE 50 words

He woke up suddenly, startled by the darkness and disoriented by the eerie gleam coming from a dim light nearby. He fet trapped, alone, unsure about where he was. Then, brushing popcorn from his lap he realised the film had ended, everyone had gone and the cinema was in darkness.

He woke up suddenly, startled as something tugged sharply at his finger. It hurt. Disoriented he gazed upwards into a bright and dazzling sun. There it was again, tug-pull. He looked down at his finger, saw the line wound around it and draped over the boat’s side. A fish!

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