One Sentence Stories

Here's a bunch of one sentence stories I wrote for my fiction writing class:

After slowly starving to death for a week caught in a bear trap, the man couldn’t help but find it a little ironic when his head was bitten off by a grizzly bear.

He planned it meticulously for weeks, following his wife’s lover so his routine was burned into the back of his brain, buying a gun on the black market that could never be traced back to him, buying latex gloves so he wouldn’t leave any fingerprints, and spending hours upon hours thinking of everything that could go wrong, and how to avoid leaving any evidence behind no matter what ended up unfolding; it’s a shame he never considered his wife stabbing him to death while he was sleeping to run off with her lover a day before he’d finally settled on doing it.

His hair and clothing blanketing in white sheets of snow, he boarded the train with everything he owned on his back.

“Love is blind” was always one of Mary’s favorite expressions, at least until she married, and subsequently divorced, a blind man.

After years of grueling training, Oscar finally realized his goal of becoming an Olympic pole-vaulter, just a month before the bullet from a gun fired straight up into the air a mile away came crashing through his ceiling and painted his brains across the tablecloth of his dining room table as he was eating dinner.

Everyone he knew told him he should feel lucky, being one of only a few of the hostages that survived the shootout between the bank-robbers and the police, but even years later all he could feel was guilt.

They had told him the house was haunted, he was just surprised when he found out it was by a live pedophile who’d broken out of jail and taken refuge in the attic.

Sometimes, honesty is not the best policy, James thought to himself as he bled to death on his living room floor after his wife shot him when he told her he’d been cheating on her.

The scientist was horrified when he saw the hideous beast he had created in his laboratory, but at least it baked delicious cookies.

The hobo thought back on his illustrious and successful career as a movie critic—why did he have to give Gigli a rave review?

Just before the old man’s life trickled out of his pores and dispersed into the air, he looked pleadingly to the nurse and asked, “Couldn’t you at least give me some morphine?”

He’d always considered himself to be misunderstood, except of course by his best friend Franklin, the turquoise penguin that told him to steal people’s kidneys.

After years of writing, he was dismayed to realize that all he could write was morbidly ironic one-liners.