Two Sentence Stories

John and Suzie were the last surviving heirs to their father’s fortune. At dinner John poisoned Suzie who poisoned John.

This post was submitted by Geoff.

Last night he caught her with another man. This morning he’s watering a new garden.

This post was submitted by Geoffrey Forbes.

When you join the club look closely at all the current members.
One day one of them will try to kill you.

The jump rope lay bloodied where young Lucy had played before Lady Murphy run amok down the street with her scythe. Damned aristocracy.

This post was submitted by Ellie Vaughn.

When you said “attention everyone” I thought for a second you would actually say something interesting.
Like about how the guy leaving was a horrible person to work with, an insufferable bore and many of us there would happily kill him if we thought we could get away with it.

She complained of a bad day at work again.
I made her a hot cup of chamomile tea with a sprinkle of rat poison – that should take care of the problem.

This post was submitted by Jodi MacArthur.

Angela was consumed with fear each time her husband left the house thanks to the increase in crime in her neighborhood so she secretly bought a gun to protect herself. One morning the security alarm went off so Angela ran down the stairs and shot the shadowy figure that was trespassing; Angela turned on the [...]

When I was a child, hide-and-seek was my favourite game: I relished the thrill of being chased, and evading capture.
I killed him to keep that thrill alive, now the police are “it.”

This post was submitted by The Cloaked Stranger.

I didn’t know I was a twin until I was sixteen.
It was the same day I was accused of murder.

A small smile played on his lips as he thought back to the moment he had taken her life and how it filled him with utter satisfaction to press his thumbs deep into her throat as she tried to cry out and how with each breath wasted on cries for help he would press his [...]

Angels sing their welcome and a golden shaft of light appears as I stare at my killer standing over my body which is sprawled on the floor, blood spatter against the wall in a grotesque portrait. The light pulses allowing me to choose forgiveness or revenge.

This post was submitted by Carla Girtman.

After seventeen long days of a trial that had been postponed for two long and brutal years, she finally had her chance to ask the defendant one question that has been burned in her brain since the day she found his body.

“Who the hell gave you the right to play God with my father’s life?” [...]

She sat on the side of the road, staring at the body, flattened and bloodied by her oversized SUV, wondering if she should call someone or just leave and try to get the smell of the creature off of her. She felt bad in a way, because after all, every creature has it’s redeeming [...]