“Two-Minute Tuesdays” are a series of micro-stories written in five minutes or less. Consider them “public practice,” like that guy who shoots free throws in the park. Prompts are supplied at the bottom in case you want to try your own hand at one of them.
Bart sat at the bar in JFK’s Red Robin, finishing a whiskey soda while jetliners roared down the runway outside. Susan had downed her drink before leaving, giving him a kiss that tasted of melted ice and scotch. He heard the final boarding call, the monotone of the gate agent calling Susan’s name, and he knew that she was for a minute longer still in the building with him.
He leaned over and checked the departures board. “To Miami, delayed,” and for another two hours still. The rain was playing havoc with everyone’s travel schedules. Bart picked up the scarf she’d given him–not very useful now, but Minnesota would be pretty cold in six months and Susan said he’d need it when he came to visit.
He pushed his carry-on closer under the bar and raised a hand for the bartender.
(prompt: Write the same scene three times, emphasizing first anger, then sadness, and finally happiness.)