A two-sentence story:

The clockwork beast lay before me, thanks to the advisements of one Mr. Carroll, burbling fluids from the hissing gash I cut through its infernal iron boiler. This Jabberwock would wreak no more havoc, but how many more were even now whiffling through the mysterious, flaming, eye-shaped portal in Tulgey Wood, and I in possession of the only Vorpal sword in existence?

A two-sentence story inspired by the joy of seeing the sun after > 3 weeks of continually overcast skies:

The rain stopped and Rebekkah saw the sun for the first time since her wedding night. She heaved herself out of the earth and shambled off between the headstones to find a stream in which to wash the dirt from her ears and nose.

Moments ago I was lying there in my big feather bed, nursing my enfeeblement, when a knock comes at the door. Next thing I know, I’m nothing but this here chunk of nibbled meat in a jar watching my granddaughter lying there in bed chatting it up with a werewolf like she’s hanging with her beau at her coming out party.

NOTE: this is based off the reconstructed oral version of the tale according to Jack Zipes in his book The Trials and Tribulations of Little Red Riding Hood

I had it down to a science: bait ’em in with gingerbread walls and lollipop fence posts, cram them in the pantry, then back ’em when they ripen. Now, thanks to that clever, goody-goody Gretel and her dumb lout of a brother Hansel, my arms are sticks of shriveled jerky and the whole cottage will smell of burned hair before I’m done bakin’.

The gifted Jeanette Andromeda over at Horror Made drew a picture of it.  Go visit her blog at horrormade.com.  Do it NOW!

Jeanette Andromeda’s Rendering of this Two Sentence Fairy Tale.

The two-sentence version:

I swam for hours upstream against the raging current. I’d have made it, too, if it weren’t for that cuss of a bear and his wicked, yellow teeth at the waterfall.

And as a haiku:

Against the current
swim upstream passionately
fanged by a bear

Here is my first attempt at writing a story in two sentences:

I walk, for now undetected, with a mimic of their emotionless countenance set like chiseled flint on my face while the terror in my heart races  beneath the drab, gray, requisite coveralls.  The cold, unforgiving sidewalk provides the solution: fill the empty cavities with concrete, leaving only the minor inconvenience of alone performing all those lobotomies.