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Sam Wilson

@ Sunday Times Books LIVE

More Genre Stories

Once again, here are 35 of the most recent Genre Stories that I’ve written for Twitter. And once again I made a few corrections for spelling and clarity, but I have made sure that none of these corrections make the tweets go over the 140 character limit.

If you like these tweets, then please follow Genre Stories at Twitter/Genrestories. Thanks!

Medical: For years the doctors thought he had Tourette’s, until they found out that he was just surrounded by arseholes.

Philosophical: His motto was “Live every day like it was your last.” He spent the final 37 years of his life screaming and crying.

Fable: The Late Bird came home after an all-night bender, and ate the worm. When the Early Bird woke up it had to reevaluate its priorities.

Uplifting: The tattooed man looked into his newborn baby’s face. His heart melted. “I’d Fuckin’ KILL fer yew,” he said. “KILL!”

Drama: She married him at his ultra-orthodox church. “I declare you Man and Disfigured Rib,” said the priest. And she had second thoughts.

Culinary Historical: It was a disaster, but he had to brazen it out. “Voila!” he said to the shocked dinner guests. And the flambĂ© was born.

Cautionary: Alone in the blizzard, he wondered what had compelled him to check whether his tongue would stick to the snowmobile.

Mob: The cops watched the rookie heading out of the station. When he was gone, the desks flipped and the place turned back into a speakeasy.

Adventures In Cliché: After base camp it was a seven-day hard climb. When they got to the summit they saw the mole and felt ashamed.

Circus Drama: She always tagged along whenever he went to unicyclist conventions. She always got in the way. His second wheel.

Business: He’d finally made it. A corner office with huge plate-glass windows. A wheelie chair. But the two didn’t go well together.

Twitter – The Musical: It seems his stream’s become a flood / of dull banality / I wonder why they follow / Twits likes him, and never me?

War: The recruit sat in a circle of candles. The others got scared. “Satanist!” said the major. “No Sir! Scared of spiders, sir!”

Zen: .

Family drama: Fishing with his sons. “This is lame!” said the youngest. So he took out the dynamite, got their respect, and lost custody.

Classical: The poison taster gagged and writhed. The cook was executed before the taster could explain that he just hated coriander.

Historical: He stared at his tools. The bolts first? The pliers? That wouldn’t work. He sighed helplessly. Torturer’s block.

Bio: In a work far ahead of his time, Mozart composed the operettas “Rollin’ in florins”, “Musket up yo ass” and “The Bitchiz of Figaro”.

Crisis Of Faith: Dress for the job you want, not the job you have, they told him. But the scuba tank kept knocking over the communion wine.

Prehistorical: As the meteor grew near, some dinosaurs rejoiced. They roared hymns, denounced the mammals, and awaited the Velocirapture.

Fable: The sparrow didn’t care that her chick was a changeling. “Fly, my pretty!” she said with pride, pushing the baby rhino from the nest.

Magic Realism: She followed the knife-thrower everywhere, always first on stage, showing off the scar where his knife had pierced her heart.

Overheared: It was New Years Eve in Zimbabwe. They raised their glasses. “Here’s to 2011. It can’t possibly be worse than 2012.”

Utopian Conspiracy: This tweet was the only way to get to you. Everyone else is in on it. CIA. FBI. They’re throwing you a surprise party.

Pop-Sci: “It’s okay to be shallow,” said the biologist. “90% of ocean life is in the shallows. It’s warm and bright.” The model just yawned.

Fable: The clumsy trap-maker always got caught in his own traps. “Here we go again,” he thought, as the ring slid onto his finger.

Conspiracy: Inside the hanger wasn’t a moon landing set. There was a stadium. Our minds reeled. The 2010 World Cup was faked.

Apocalyptic: Everything got gradually worse. People fantasised about a quick and definite end. Roland Emmerich made millions.

Horror: “Fish Fingers tonight!” said New Mommy. Jimmy looked at his plate. Scales. Knuckles. They weren’t what Jimmy expected. Not at all.

Speculative: To end racism, we found new ways to define ourselves. But a new power elite rose. Fucking Sagittarians.

Epic: He had The Call. He has a Love Interest, and an Antagonist, and the potential for Personal Growth. Unfortunately, he also had an Xbox.

Urban Legend: A string of cheese led up from the top of the pizza to the mouth of the guilty-looking waiter.

Ghost: Dripping walls. Patches of cold. Weird laughter in the night. On the plus hand, only 800 per month and close to varsity AND the pub.

Paradise Lost: He thought he’d finally found the ideal way of life in the nudist camp. Then he tried frying sausages.

Revisionism: Jesus made a famous statement about rich people and camels and eyes of needles. But he didn’t say “Heaven”. He said “Prison”.

Would you like more? The first 100 genre stories can be found here, and the next 35 can be found here.