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Hint Fiction

hint fiction (n): A story of 25 words or fewer that suggests a larger, more complex story.
Robert Swartwood

If you would like to try writing some yourself then I put up a daily #HintFiction tweet on Twitter.

Here are some of my hint fiction stories. (The titles don’t count in the word count!)

WRITER’SBLOCK

The pen dried up and his words were no longer able to express themselves. They simply curled up and died.

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SUFFERING

“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“How?”
“Don’t care, as long as you make sure he suffers.”

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MOVING NORTH

The virus hit London first.
Within a month every male in the city had been eaten.
In desperation the women headed north.

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TESTING TIMES

The majority of Class 6 did well in the government sponsored tests, with many exceeding age-related expectations.
The three who hadn’t were taken away and liquidated.

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THE CHILDREN’S MENU

As he grew older Bruno found a whole human played havoc with his frail digestive system.
Nowadays a small child was all he could manage.

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NO FLOWERS PLEASE

We’ve buried him again.
Third time this month.
Dug much deeper this time and backfilled with quick-drying cement.
Hope to hell it works.

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TIME TO REDECORATE

The fan whirred, spraying Jeremy’s blood across the newly painted kitchen walls.

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IDENTITY THEFT

I’ll drill a small hole behind his left ear, large enough for me to crawl through.
Once inside his head I’ll steal his identity.

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GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE DEAD BEARS

While Goldilocks explanation helped clear up the matter of the broken chair and missing porridge, it still left unanswered questions concerning three dead bodies.

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A BUMPER CROP

The freezer wasn’t big enough for Brian’s bumper crop of raspberries.
Perhaps if he removed Maureen’s head it might give him the room he needed?

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A PSYCHOANALYST’S TOOLBOX

My toolbox contained a small pick to tease out lost memories stuck in his mind’s crevices and a pneumatic drill to dislodge more complex thoughts.   

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THE LIQUEFACTION PROCESS

“I heard him belch!” 

“Not unusual, sir. The decomposing body’s liquefaction process creates volatile gases.” 

“But he then said, ‘Pardon me’.” 

“Now, that is unusual.”    

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MARJORIE SMITH’S YOUNGER DAYS

Marj was showing off her tattoos.

Pointing to the parrot on her sagging left breast she whispered, “Got this one when I was a pirate.”  

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THE PORRIDGE IS GOING COLD

In a panic Goldilocks shot Baby Bear dead. Mummy and Daddy Bear rushed towards her. She fired twice more before returning to her porridge. 

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LOVE YOU 4 EVER

They carved their initials into the trunk. 

The ancient oak tree winced as the sharp knife sliced through its aged skin. 

Another unwanted tattoo. 

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DR WHO?

Sarge, got a weird one here. Bloke outside a police box going on about deadly aliens. Wants to know where he can charge his screwdriver.  

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