March 25: Cocktail

From @ajarncom:

She surveyed the punters around her. A typical Brit-pub happy hour mish-mash of cost-conscious English teachers and stripey shirt-wearing financial advisors. She lifted the cocktail to her lips. It was the first time she'd experienced a long, hard screw on the beach. She dearly hoped it wouldn't be the last.

From @bangkokgirlblog:

At 13 I fell in love with Tom, who played the main character in a film called Cocktail.

From thereon cocktails have taken a starring role in my life.

From sealing friendships, to healing breakups; to fuelling dancing shoes to curing holiday blues.  

Oh cocktails. What a lot I have to thank you for.

From @nikkihammett1:

Travelling to Thailand was filled with happiness and pain. I finally left England but it took the end of my youthful mother’s life, to compel me to make a new life myself. I started out drinking tropical cocktails and life was fabulous. Years later, happy, calling Thailand ‘home,’ I’ve graduated to Sangsom, Soda, Manao.

From @Naamtok:

Running hard now, past tired, two minutes left of twenty. Sweat dripping as she rhythmically hit the treadmill belt. Not even listening to the song that was playing now, despite it being a favourite. Just the thought if it made her smile, She was going to slay them all, in that little black cocktail dress.

From @geoffgthomas:

As our drinks arrived, four new beauties took to the stage. As glasses clinked, a slender hand gripped my thigh before slowly massaging north. Professional fingers were working there magic, but seconds short of a happy ending I reluctantly pushed that hand away. Did this bar's name refer to more than just the drinks? Cocktail.

From @directrun:

Seattle radiated a fresh misty afterglow from a sunny rainbow day. With Pacific Northwest wine flowing freely we probed every nook & cranny of Pikes Place Market. After 6 hours we decanted ourselves to the Edgewater Inn bar. Cocktail hour it was, all agreed, except one piping "I think are tails are cocked enough already!!"

From @FreBKK:

Once again we’re being silenced by the almighty powers that hold our lives in their greedy hands.

Talking about it might be a threat to the safety of our nation, and therefore, a threat to us.

Now we have to be afraid, so let’s be silent and just enjoy our shrimp cocktail.

From konfuzed:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  I was in cocktail class at university where we had to make all sorts of cocktails.  There was fine liquor being used – they’re crap unless you use the good stuff, obviously.  The downside? We were only allowed “tasters”, the rest was poured out…  what an absolute waste of great cocktails!

@ShayanBKK:

If you want to make life interesting, make it like a cocktail. Start with a base of excitement, a dash of compassion and a shot of attitude. Just make sure it's shaken not stirred.

@PennyKinned:

There is a coup: an overthrown president, an all-powerful general. She has been instrumental to this – years of backroom meetings, surrounded by weaponry and dark ambition. “I’ve earned this,” she thinks, looking out as crystal waters as the waiter serves her a Cosmopolitan.

Like her, there is more to the cocktail than meets the eye.

March 24: Damage

From @geoffgthomas:

At first glance, the challenge of writing a story in fifty-five words had seemed easy.  Fifty-five words would offer ample scope to develop interesting characters within a pithy well rounded plot. But, as his pencil crossed to the second page it became clear that no amount of editing could save him. The damage was done.    

From @ShayanBKK:

He wakes up every morning with adventure in his heart and soul. Leaping through the air, vaulting over obstacles with ease. Muscles tensed, mind focused on the path, never worrying about the physical and mental damage.

CRASH. He falls but swiftly back to his feet only to do it all over again.

From @bangkokgirlblog:

My friend is everything a friend should be. Caring, a listener, an adviser, a comedian.

The revelation of a careless whisper and I learn my “friend” is not really my friend at all.

Once the genie has been released from the bottle it is rarely re-captured.

To damage trust is to destroy a friendship.

From konfuzed:

my friend received a phone call at work today… its amazing how your whole life can change in the space of a few seconds.  the damage that can be done with a few words.  His agony thinly veiled, his face contorted with grief, his eyes welling with tears. his family has been torn apart… his sister is with god now.

From @2yrsbangkok:

The damage was only slight.  You had to squint and hold it up under the kitchen light to even see it. It was ever so faint.  But it was there - the dollop of barbecue sauce that stubbornly refused to disappear despite obsessive scrubbing. The only truly pretty thing she’d ever owned, ruined.

From @nikkihammett1:

As we arrived by longtail at dawn, the damage could clearly be seen. Beautiful beach bars made of old wood ripped up to make way for the brand new 5 star. A part of Thailand taken away forever. No more fire shows, no more reggae. Concrete paths already being laid amongst the debris. Goodbye Tonsai.

From @PennyKinned:

He traces the scar down her back – long healed now, but still clearly visible. “Don’t,” she says, pushing his hand away. “I don’t like for you to see me like that.” But he is insistent, following the trajectory of the old gash with his fingertips. He likes her damage. It makes him feel at home.

March 23: Secret

From @thomaswanhoff:

Keaw woke up, the smell of tiger balm hit her nose. She was sweating even at 9am, since there was no fan and no window to open. She poked the girl next to her, one of five sleeping with her on the floor. No secret it was uncomfortable. Just another day at the massage shop.

From @directrun:

She had a new love, entwined in her mind, spirit, body, she loved his fullness. The walk, talk, perception, care, and the warm—no—HOT touch, she was in love. He was of another culture,  there was one thing she wanted to influence, to change about him. She had a secret for him—

From @sleepypigrabbit:

Have you ever thought of how deadly secrets can be? It takes just one secret to mess with your mind. How many secrets have you spilled when you promised you'd keep them? Secrets that have led to love and lives lost forever. After all, 'two can keep a secret if one of them is dead'.

From @sengkang:

He was fat, fifty five. Obese really. Bald. Ill fitting cheap shirt, pants, shoes. Hanging tiredly, sweatily on the BTS handrail. She was about thirty, beautiful. Smoldering dark eyes. “Secret” she hissed at him. “Secret.” His heart fluttered. “What?” He smiled. “Secret” she hissed “You skin secret and you steenk.” Deflated, saddened. Off next stop.

From konfuzed:

I saw her on the way home from work.  her head held high, her hair pinned up, her makeup exquisitely done, an image of perfection. I was beside her on the train, she smelled sweet as flowers, subtle yet perfumed. Her dress was a shimmering miracle, figure hugging satin, revealing  an ample bosom, shapely hips and a trim waistline.  What's her secret I thought, where is the fault in this image of perfection?

From @nikkihammett1:

Her husband welcomed her back home. A kitten was on their porch. Thin. Scuffy “Are you feeding this thing?” “No.” “Good! Don’t and it will go away.” After two months the kitten was still there. Fatter. Settled.

“Are you feeding him?” A long silence. “Nitnoi.” He had been all along. “Me too. He’s called Bobi.”

From anonymous:

It’s no secret that I’m gay! Just because I haven’t told anyone yet doesn’t make it  secret. I thought someone would have guessed, but no, my secret is safe. So safe in fact that it’s become all-consuming. I fear that when someone does find out they will say, “don’t worry, you’re secret’s safe with me”

From @PennyKinned:

It is a common domestic scene.

“Would you like some toast with that?”

“Sure.”

“Regular or slightly burnt?”

“Burnt sounds good.”

She brings the mildly charred toast over, and he smiles at her in thanks. And, all the while, it throbs between them. The quiet betrayal, the sordid secret.

She smiles back, anyway.

55-Word Story Writing: What, How, Why?

What?

This blog aims to collect and publish micro-stories received from people in Thailand through the 55-word story writing endeavour on Twitter. Stories are accepted by anyone who lives/has lived in Thailand!

How?

• We release a new word each weekday morning.
• The word is tweeted by the @BKKbeginners account on Twitter - we tag people who have signed up with their Twitter IDs.
• We also send out an email to those who have sent us their email addresses.
• Use the daily word to create your short story, not more than 55 words.
• Email it with your Twitter handle/real name/pen name to bangkokbeginners@gmail.com by midnight.
• All the stories are published on this blog the next day.

Why?

Many of us love writing/blogging, but find it hard to make time to do so on a daily basis. That's where 55-word stories come in - after all, it takes only a few minutes to think of and put down 55 words!

Writing these micro-stories is meant to encourage daily bursts of creativity and help us stay in touch with the our inner storyteller. Reading other people's interpretations of the same theme can also be an eye-opening experience.

If you’re interested in being tagged, tweet us at @BKKbeginners or email us at bangkokbeginners@gmail.com 

Happy writing!