Posts Tagged ‘nanofiction’

Something New From Ari? I Scarce Believe My Eyes!

March 26, 2009

A 55 I’m working on, though I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to get it down from its current length of (I think) 62 words.

Watching some girl sway by, I accidentally chewed the inside of my cheek. At my grunt of pain, Maria looked up from her pizza and I swallowed blood and mustard and half-chewed beef. “Bit my cheek,” I said. She returned to her pizza.

“Honey?” I asked.


“Is it wrong that the blood tastes good?”

“Long as it’s your own, Boo.”


55s Guestposted on the Webnovel “Street”

October 1, 2008

It’s mostly old ones of mine, but one new one also.  Check ’em out here.  Street seems like a fun cyberpunk story, too.

Also, we’ve got a bunch of stories on the forum now, including a new author.  If any of you have time to help out with them a bit, it would be like w0.

Add Your Input to the 55 A Day Book!

September 22, 2008

Click here to add your input to which of the 300-odd stories on 55 A Day should be put in our book. I’m looking for a list of 50-100 favorites of yours.  You can also peruse the list of my personal favorites there.

Let’s get this thing done, baby.

“Last Man On Earth” – New 55

September 22, 2008

Please give me constructive criticism by going to our peer review forum.

Last Man On Earth

by Ari Collins

Now that everyone’s gone, I go joyriding in their cars. Fast Porsches, Infinitis with whining orphaned GPSs, Hummers for hills of car skeletons. I buckle up and crash into telephone poles, houses, war monuments. I’m addicted to airbag adrenaline.

I’m speeding in a station wagon when a tiny blonde steps in front of the car.

The Last Man On Earth – 55-Word Story Draft

September 15, 2008

Click here to read (and give feedback on?): “The Last Man On Earth“.

Some 55 Drafts, A Few Words Over Each

September 13, 2008

If you get the inkling to be a’tinkling…  wait that’s not what I meant to say.

If you get the inkling to give feedback on these stories, visit the 55 A Day Peer Review Forum.  Other half-formed stories await your perusal also.



by Ari Collins

You burn my eyes, my flesh, the soles of my feet. You breathe so much hot air, the heat makes me see things. You’re on fire yourself, but you won’t burst. You’re burning down, burning out. No spectacle, only sparks left, nostalgic embers.

Every morning, I hope you’ll wake too. After your cremation, we’ll all watch the ashes. And hope.

Sexual Geometry

The sex is just… she doesn’t fit me, man. No, I don’t mean down there. Jackass. It’s like… her shoulder’s too small for my hand. Her back arches too much for me to put my arms around her right. Her right knee always bangs against my left. It’s all wrong.

Anyway, I guess I’ll keep looking for my golden mean.

Early Draft of Short Short – The Jersey Phoenix

September 12, 2008

Probably melodramatic.  Needs a lot of work.  Could be a 55 someday or something larger.  Eschews sentence subjects.


The Jersey Phoenix

by Ari Collins


You’re a phoenix.  You burn my eyes, my flesh, the soles of my feet.  You breathe nothing but hot air, breathe steam that creates a lakeside mirage and obscures the forest.  Now you’re burning yourself at the cross of your own witchery.  But without the spectacle, alone in your apartment.  Burning out.

I wake every morning hoping you’ll rise from your ashes.

55: The Book – Update

September 12, 2008

Send in your 55-word stories to to have a chance to get in the boo!

So now I’m thinking probably 55 55s would be included. That would bring the price down to about $5.30. Also, I’d have to decide how to choose them. Probably a group of people? I’d be afraid to choose too many by the Air Theremin group, especially my own, for fear of appearing biased. We’ll see.

Short Short: Irish Flavour

September 10, 2008

Something I wrote on the bus to school today.  Enjoy.

Irish Flavour

by Ari Collins

Bill and Martha and I met her at the trip’s outset, a transplanted Irish girl whose brogue’s colour clashed with the Portuguese spoken around her.  A short encounter easily misplaced amongst the vacation squabbles, passport theft, and rainforest treks that came later on the trip.  But she and I bonded over theatre and American reality television while I fell in love with the freckles that surrounded and outshone the stud just above the righthand corner of her lips.  And years later it’s her I remember most, not the howler monkeys or mad rush to the embassy.  No, it was on the left side.  Her left.

Ari Collins’ Fiction Links

September 7, 2008

Over on the right now I’ve put links to all my 55s and 6 slightly longer stories.  Enjoy, and leave feedback if you have strong feelings on any of them.  Kthxbye.