Short stories are simple stories that are only a few paragraphs or a chapter long. Because of their short length, it is important to include as many elements and twists and foreshadows as possible. In other words, the story should seem confusing on the surface, but as you dig deeper you should begin to see things. That's why they are harder to write then regular stories.
I will not update this. This is a simple three or four paragraph short story, not to mention my first one ever.
I sat down at my desk, my heart pounding from the long walk up the stairs to my office. I had a heart for this job, but today was my last day before the manager would review my work efforts and choose whether or not to fire me. It was nerve racking, to say the least, that there was a possibility I would be fired from the position I loved so very much and be replaced by a different journalist. Reaching for another jelly doughnut, I straightened my glasses and read over todays assignment. "Todays assignment: If you fail to complete this assignment I will have you fired ON THE SPOT. You must type a convincing article on the effects of madness and how it controls the brain. Must be finished by: Today, at 10:00." I reached for another doughnut but shortly stopped myself. With a shaky hand, I rolled up my left sleeve and looked at my watch. "9:50"
It dawned on me. I sat there, sweat already breaking out all over my body. It trickled down my back, jolting me back to reality. "Oh no!" I shouted. Reaching for the typewriter at my desk, I frantically thought of anything I could make up that would seem convincing as an article. "Madness?" I exclaimed, my fellow workers turning and watching me. "I know nothing of madness!" I was about to lose my job, my income, my home...I frantically began to type. I sat there for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was mere seconds. I finished the first line and pressed the enter key...but nothing happened. Dumbfounded, I tried again. Still, the machine refused to cooperate. I looked all around the room, the faces watching me, staring at me. They whispered to each other, talking about George, how he was going to lose his job. I grabbed my throbbing head, wishing them to stop, but they would not listen. I tried yet a third time, but still the damned machine would not budge. "No!" I screamed. Grabbing a pen from a neighboring desk, I attempted to manually move the typewriter. Instead, the pen snapped in half and pierced George. He looked down and saw pinkish blood all over the papers, the machine, his doughnuts...tears rolled down his cheeks, and he gave up. Opening the window near his desk, he looked at the streets below. No one else would save him, they all sat there, laughing at him. George, who was about to be jobless. George, who would lose his house. George, who had lost everything. Just then, the clock struck the hour and his boss marched in. "Well?" He asked politely. "Have you finished the assignment?"
Sorry this was so bad, I have a lot on my mind and had little time to write.
I will not update this. This is a simple three or four paragraph short story, not to mention my first one ever.
Typewriter
I sat down at my desk, my heart pounding from the long walk up the stairs to my office. I had a heart for this job, but today was my last day before the manager would review my work efforts and choose whether or not to fire me. It was nerve racking, to say the least, that there was a possibility I would be fired from the position I loved so very much and be replaced by a different journalist. Reaching for another jelly doughnut, I straightened my glasses and read over todays assignment. "Todays assignment: If you fail to complete this assignment I will have you fired ON THE SPOT. You must type a convincing article on the effects of madness and how it controls the brain. Must be finished by: Today, at 10:00." I reached for another doughnut but shortly stopped myself. With a shaky hand, I rolled up my left sleeve and looked at my watch. "9:50"
It dawned on me. I sat there, sweat already breaking out all over my body. It trickled down my back, jolting me back to reality. "Oh no!" I shouted. Reaching for the typewriter at my desk, I frantically thought of anything I could make up that would seem convincing as an article. "Madness?" I exclaimed, my fellow workers turning and watching me. "I know nothing of madness!" I was about to lose my job, my income, my home...I frantically began to type. I sat there for what seemed like hours, but in reality it was mere seconds. I finished the first line and pressed the enter key...but nothing happened. Dumbfounded, I tried again. Still, the machine refused to cooperate. I looked all around the room, the faces watching me, staring at me. They whispered to each other, talking about George, how he was going to lose his job. I grabbed my throbbing head, wishing them to stop, but they would not listen. I tried yet a third time, but still the damned machine would not budge. "No!" I screamed. Grabbing a pen from a neighboring desk, I attempted to manually move the typewriter. Instead, the pen snapped in half and pierced George. He looked down and saw pinkish blood all over the papers, the machine, his doughnuts...tears rolled down his cheeks, and he gave up. Opening the window near his desk, he looked at the streets below. No one else would save him, they all sat there, laughing at him. George, who was about to be jobless. George, who would lose his house. George, who had lost everything. Just then, the clock struck the hour and his boss marched in. "Well?" He asked politely. "Have you finished the assignment?"
Sorry this was so bad, I have a lot on my mind and had little time to write.
![[Image: eminemsignew.png]](https://i1121.photobucket.com/albums/l505/spartandranzer/eminemsignew.png)
![[Image: cygnus_johannes_sig.png]](https://box44.fr/beyblade/sig/cygnus_johannes_sig.png)
. Did you catch on to any of the elements or foreshadows?
![[Image: fb6571e14fa1ae856f2ebc1.png]](https://img813.imageshack.us/img813/198/fb6571e14fa1ae856f2ebc1.png)
