Some more 140-character short stories, for you.
The blind sister was the most beautiful of them all. She didn't know it. They didn't tell her either. What's beauty, she often asked.
He won't carry an umbrella. Even if it rains. Rebel, they say. Every night, alone, he listens to "Pyaar hua iqraar hua." Shhh. He's a rebel.
Oh shit, he screams, there's a hole in the boat. Quick, she shouts, plug it with the harpoon. Awkward silence. They giggle the whole night.
"What's origami?" "It's the art of folding papers to make things. Like birds. With wings." "And heart?" "Yes, that too." "With wings?"
"Ready?" "No. I'm not. Give me a minute." *takes a deep breath* "Okay, I'm ready." "No. You're not." "What!?" "Trust me. You are not."
You need to find humor in things, she said. How'll that help, he asked. It makes you popular, she said, like me. He laughed the whole night.
You're good, she said, but I don't like you. You mean, he asked, in that way? Yup, she said, in that way too. He got himself house arrested.
Damn, he panics, it's the last boarding call. Relax, she says, you promised me you won't panic again. Sorry, he murmurs. That too, she says.
Single, the salesman asked. Yes, I said. Stay alone, he asked again. Yes, I said. You need a vacuum cleaner, he said. We laughed for 30 min.
Going somewhere, he asked. Wandering, she said, you? Me too, he said, mind if I join you? Sorry, she said, two wanderers can never get lost.
Oh god you taste awesome, he said. I taste better with ice cream, she said and winked. Excited, he went to the fridge. He never came back.