Arithmetic Progression

I have, it seems, been double-tagged by Goti, in a post that signals his triumphant return to blogging - a brilliant example of putting coincidences to work in a double-play tag-out thats a double whammy. Read it. Also received one tag from a young lady who spends far too much time online with decrepit has-beens, and another from a young lady who is seen outdoors only after sunset. Both are in need of some sunlight.

Finally, one last matter of interest - my long-suffering roommate Siddarth, has started his own blog, after much pleading and cajoling (and a refusal to do the dishes). Here it is.

Right, so on to the task at hand. Shamelessly plagiarised from an old English rugby song, here is my attempt at 55-word fiction, dedicated to that world-renowned chick magnet - Samit.

Oh, my DEAR Master Basu! Please do NOT come closer!
Oh, my dear Master Basu! Please do not come.
Oh, my DEAR Master Basu! Please! Do NOT!
Oh! My dear Master Basu. Please do.
Oh! My dear Master Basu - PLEASE!
Oh, my dear Master Basu!
Oh my dear master!
Oh my dear.
OH MY!
Ohh!

As for the 23/5 post. Here is the offending line.

There always is.

Indeed.

Addendum: A brilliant idea has struck me. After seeing some of the exceptional things that people have been coming up with using just 55 words, I think a blog should be created to collect these stories, with their permission of course. Any thoughts?