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Twiction – The Perfect Stocking Stuffer

By Maryann Henck

One week before Christ­mas and no gift in sight?
Allow me to assist you out of your plight
For who real­ly wants one more thought­less gift?
Doomed to be piled on the re-gift­ing snowdrift
So why not cre­ate a sto­ry to tweet
In 140 char­ac­ters – short and sweet


Well, actu­al­ly in 280 char­ac­ters or less as Twit­ter has recent­ly dou­bled its tweet length. No Twit­ter account or mon­ey is required – just a bit of time. There’s no rea­son to fall under the glam­our of the pre-hol­i­day com­mer­cial­iza­tion craze. All you need is a seed for a sto­ry that you can let grow and trim back into shape. You can do the old-school thing and write or type it on a dec­o­ra­tive piece of paper. Then just stuff it into a lit­tle stock­ing. Of course, you can text or What­sApp your gift of twic­tion as well. In search of ideas? Then take a peek at some of the twic­tion from my cre­ative writ­ing students.

The warmth of your fin­ger­tips spills into my waist, my back, my neck. It’s a dif­fer­ent kind of heat, the one that soaks through the skin right into the heart. The one that stays for breakfast.

– Johan­na

He looked her in the eyes while he took anoth­er sip of wine. It tast­ed strange. She stared back, smil­ing. He gagged and died.

– Anni­ka

Love and hate slow-danc­ing to the sound of free­dom until — a scream! — the music stops.

– Daria

A strange force made his body move, made him aim. He knew how to shoot his M4 even tho he could­n’t remem­ber why: but smth took ctrl.

– Chris

I knew kick­ing him in the shins, hard, wasn’t real­ly the point of it. Self-defense cours­es for girls should be nice. Unpro­tect­ed shin. Sorry.

– Sas­set­ta

Once I made a cake from sug­ar, eggs, and more. It was noth­ing spe­cial at all, but peo­ple liked it so they might like this sto­ry as well.

– Sal­ly

When the train arrived he didn’t look back. She cried for years — so did the conductor.

– Adele

He smiled her wor­ries away not think­ing of the prob­lem itself but his big check­book — his num­ber one prob­lem solver.

– Kai-Arne

Oh no, not again! Where are all these hor­ri­ble smells com­ing from? Can’t I just sleep and wake up in Octo­ber with a healthy baby in my arms?

– Steph

The wilder­ness took its toll on him. In his soli­tude he for­got that it was not the rhythm of the world that mat­tered, but that of his heart.

– Anas­ta­sia

“Too much can­dy is gonna fat­ten you up,” the stranger said to two young girls with a choco­late San­ta. “No wor­ries, we’re gonna puke later.”

– Pauline

Cool guy stepped right into the scene. Fist bump. “What’s up?”… Silence. A life behind sunglasses.

– Flo­ri­an

I saw him on the bridge, could­n’t stop him, couldn’t under­stand. Now I’m here, cause I wan­na do the same.

– Mon­ja

They broke up. He moved back in under the kitchen table. At 1st she hat­ed it. Then she fed him cook­ies. It’s nice to nev­er be total­ly alone.

– Nina

Tears press against my eyes sur­vey­ing your soft skin, light hair, warm eyes. Frag­ile as your body is the love I cra­dle in my fingers.

– Shirin

Jew­els in the bag. Ready to brag. Hot-wired the car. Didn’t get far. Get­away wasn’t swift. Couldn’t dri­ve a stick shift.

– Maryann

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