I can drive 55

It was a year ago that I invented 55 Fiction Friday. (Sure, it has a bigger following over at Sepia Mutiny, but you can follow the trail of evidence: I influenced Maisnon, who inspired Anna, who then introduced it to Sepia readers here.)

I don't mind. Others have warmed to the format, and I'm amused that they're predominantly Indian. It's like I discovered something my people are good at.

Except for when I was in Vancouver and San Francisco, I've published stories exactly 55 words in length every Friday for a year. That's 50 stories, which you could call a collection, or a fairly tall building. Want to go back and read them? I've created an index.

To celebrate, I thought I'd raise the stakes significantly and write the rare story where all 55 words start with the same letter: A. (I've seen it done before with W and S.)

55 Fiction Friday toyed with but eventually abandoned the palindrome idea. Maybe next year.

Amber and April argued about Andrew all afternoon. Angered
at another asinine action, Andrew's aunts asserted absolute acrimony, as austere as an acidic affirmation, and as awful as any apathetic adage.

Automotive accidents appear alarmingly against authority. Andrew acted amiably, averting amusement and avoiding ample attention. After all, adolescents abhor attitude adjustments.

Apologies? An afterthought.