Each day, unless I sluff off or find myself busy, I write a complete story in 59 words to warm up for my screenwriting and to get possible future ideas. This week’s theme was “Freedom,” and as such, all stories are on that theme. Anyone who happens upon this blog is invited to play along and send stories to foreverunchanged at gmail.

Saturday is a day off (for me; it doesn’t have to be for you, of course) so I post on Fridays. The theme for July 11th-17th will be GAMES. Take this to mean whatever you want it to mean. They’re intentionally vague to allow each person multiple ways to attack the theme.


Okay. Crunch time. This is as unstuck as this leg’s going to get, and I’m just an inch away. Can’t use the free leg to pull the other ones…made that mistake before. Too sticky. Shit, she’s coming. Oh, she’s eating the fly. I’ve got a few more moments. Success! Two legs free. Too bad I’m a fucking centipede.

She’d been burdened by him for too long. His partying had done him in. How often does a man need to go out with his friends? Who was that girl he was talking to? Well, it hardly mattered now. She wasn’t going to go through this again. She dragged him to the basement and threw him on the pile.

Briggs savored the smell of the asphalt. That brought him back. He glanced at himself again, still not used to seeing anything that wasn’t an orange jumpsuit. A six-year-old child stepped out of the van nearby and held up a sign. “Welcome home, Daddy.” Briggs broke down and cried for the first time since Aaron was born.


Carl Pavano laughed as he looked into the mirror, trimming his unkempt beard. “Whoops” he said as he shaved his side burns. “Oh no!” he gasped as his goatee hairs began to circle the bathroom sink. A maniacal giggle burst from his mouth while cleaning his jaw line as he said “nothing beats the feeling of wearing a mustache”


Looking at the script, Mel Gibson knew — just knew — he had a hit. Maybe even an Academy Award. Violence? Check. Sex? It’s in there. Historical inaccuracies? It’s chock full of ‘em. But how does he end it? How does one wrap up the whole movie in as few words as possible, one even? Then it hit him…

Big Mak

Peter was fuming. “I’m on the wrong train, I’m going to be late, and it’s the author’s fault. Being on time wouldn’t make a good plot point? I’m tired of being trapped in this story. I’ve got to get out. Maybe if I…”

[Where did he go?]


[um…’The End,’ I guess.]

Just calling to let you know that I’ll be at work until late today. You won’t believe it, but a tree fell on the office. The emergency crews are arriving now. Soon they’ll find me, and it will take hours to free my legs. Another day, trapped at my desk, under this mountain of (soon-to-be) paper, unable to leave.