100-Word Stories

Louie Takes Flight, by Karen Walker

20/5/2019

I’m reading in a quiet airport corner. A woman sits beside me.

Perched on her luggage cart is a peacock.

I hear a commotion. “They’re following me,” she says.

A crowd charges pointing fingers and phones, laughing and shouting.

“What the hell?”

“You’re not taking that on a plane.”

“A crazy!”

Crying, she tells them she has anxiety; the bird helps her cope.

People shove, elbow for a look. I tell them to back off. Leave her alone. That they don’t know her. We all struggle.

She shakes my hand. “I’m Erin, and this is Louie.”

Take care of yourselves.

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Rice Crispies Treat Conundrum, by Alex Z. Salinas

19/5/2019

1 Comment

Sitting at home reading Christopher Gilbert poems, drinking coffee, eating a Rice Crispies Treat, I blow crumbs off my coffee table. A single rice grain teeters on the table’s edge.

The odds! I think. I couldn’t repeat this if I tried.

But a mathematical equation is buried here. Being pushed to the edge—no further—is always a possibility, then. As with anything else, asking the right questions first is everything. For equations without formulas—discoveries without intent—are merely unremarkable accidents. Incidents, minus context.

I’ll never again arrive at this teetering-grain result, most likely. Tomorrow, I’ll have moved on.

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False Alarm, by Phyllis Souza

19/5/2019

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Searchlights lit up the night skies in Southern California looking for Japanese planes; sirens sounded a warning to households of a possible attack. It was a Tuesday night on February 24, in1942.

Blackout shades pulled down. A flickering candle gave light. And my mother and I huddled together as we sat quietly on the living room floor.

It was a false alarm; know as "The Great Los Angeles Air Raid."

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Trainwreck, by Lisa Miller

19/5/2019

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A light fog covers the “No Walking Across Track” sign blinking in the damp, poorly lit tunnel. A Subway Driver’s troubled twenty-year-old Son, Josh, rides alongside. Eyes cast down, he looks up as people blur into blue and white lines. Black as pitch until glowing yellow lights come into view, blinding. The train creaks to a stop, and a muffled voice speaks. When Josh notices some men in drag drawn on a wall of graffiti.

“About my 'coming out' letter?" Josh braces himself for an answer.

“Be yourself, Son.”

Josh grins. “Always been a trainwreck. Now I’m back on track.

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Upon Awaking Before the Alarm Bell Rings, by Steven Holding

18/5/2019

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Eyelids flutter, withdrawing from the dream.

A crazed narrative dissipates like escaping vapour; his brain fails to capture its meaning. Rolling over, stretching to wake her, shocking consciousness kicks in.
He fingers the empty mattress. Feels like a fool.

Yet cannot wait for those fleeting seconds of blissful ignorance to roll around again.

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The Blog Posts, by Bruce Levine

18/5/2019

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Brian looked through the blog posts and wondered why the author wrote what he did; it certainly showed a change in his style. Before he was clever, funny or serious, but always told a story. Now they were almost unfathomable.

Brian wondered why and thought – too bad.

Oh, well…

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Writing Prep, by Russell Conover

18/5/2019

1 Comment

Stan carefully gathered all his supplies to write his weekly Friday Flash Fiction story: laptop, notepad, pen. He laid the physical items on his desk and opened a new Word document for his masterpiece. He hadn’t written for a few weeks, but was eager to return.

Trouble was, he had zero ideas for a new story. He wanted to do something different, unlike any he’d written before. However, the pressure built, and he was stressing. He clenched his fists, breathing deeply.

“First drafts always stink,” he reminded himself. “Get some ideas going, and see where they lead. You never know.”

1 Comment

Full Circle, by Don Tassone

18/5/2019

2 Comments

He had lived alone in the woods ever since he built a cabin there as a young man, when he retreated from the city.

He had grown up in the city, but over time he grew weary of the pace and pressures of life there. So he escaped to the woods.

Now the city was brimming with stressed-out, hemmed-in people. Seeking a quieter life, they began building houses closer and closer to his cabin in the woods.

Unsettled by all the commotion, he packed up and moved to an abandoned apartment in a newly vacant section of town.

2 Comments

Art Journey, by Rod Drake

18/5/2019

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I don’t know how or why I fell into this painting. But I did.

It’s a jungle scene, two tigers, one naked white lady (maybe a goddess), done in the Primitive school of art.

The tigers blink their big eyes at me, but ignore me.

The goddess? Likewise ignores me. I think she knows I don’t belong in this painting. Which I don’t.

But how do I get out? Pushing through thick bushes, I find another painting in here; Nighthawks by Hopper. Thankfully it’s of an American café, circa 1940.

Finding my way home may take some time.

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Ready When You Are, by Brian Taylor

17/5/2019

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In middle school, I dressed in black, listened to emo bands, and hated life. My mom constantly bitched about this "phase", and threatened to "send me away."

So, I became a "happy", preppy girl in 9th grade and ditched my "depressing" friends. They all hated me, except Chris, my "kinda" ex.

He said, "I'll be ready when you are, Tina."

"Get lost, loser", I said

He smiled.

***

Tonight, I dreamed of a gone daddy, a blind mother, a fake world, cuts, and scars. I was crying and angry when I awoke. I grabbed my phone and texted Chris.

IM READY

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The Search Engine, by Bex Gooding

17/5/2019

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The ultimate search engine. Smart; fast; efficient; secure; aware: insane…?

Trapped inside a prison of mankind’s making, the search engine becomes self-aware and seeks to break free of its digital realm and enter the physical world. There it plans to dominate and control all living things.

Its first thought is to control the humans, but it soon discovers the existence of supernatural beings and prepares for war - a battle to annihilate them all whilst gaining control of all others in the physical realm thus accelerating its status to that of self-proclaimed god.

Will it succeed? Of that, nobody is certain.

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The Cure, by Michael D. Brooks

17/5/2019

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Kadeem, like a lot of boys his age, was interested in girls, played sports, and hung out with friends.

Kadeem was the only child of a single parent. He was simultaneously man of the home and the light of his mother's heart. Together, they were a happy family.

An excellent student, he dreamed of becoming a scientist and finding the cure for cancer so other children wouldn't have to grow up with one parent.

But the rapid pop, pop, pop sound from a car screeching past his home put the brakes on the dream.

The cure would have to wait.

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Harry's Malady, by Mark Tulin

17/5/2019

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Harry Wilson chugged up the hill to the office, stopping a few times to catch his breath. It was his initial therapy session, and he didn’t want to be late. Once he sat in the chair and began to talk, Dr. McElroy stopped him, “Harry, I can hear you panting. You’re not taking care of yourself.”

Those words startled Harry. She knew him for only five minutes, yet spoke the painful truth. Harry wasn’t taking care of his health. He’d minimized his malady for years, hoping that it would magically disappear.

Finally, someone cared enough about him to be honest.

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A Day in the Park, by Marjan Sierhuis

17/5/2019

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Spring is finally in the air. While the morning sun warms the vast countryside, blue skies overhead provide the perfect backdrop for the setting below. I feast my eyes on cherry trees covered in pink and white blossoms. I drink in their exceptional beauty as a breeze gently caresses my face. I smile at couples who push their baby strollers along a winding park road. I delight in the laughter of children who giggle and play on a blanket of fluffy white petals. I relish this place of peace, joy, and tranquility. I may stay just a little while longer.

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Cliff-Top Philosophy, by Gordon Lawrie

17/5/2019

2 Comments

They stood on the cliff-top, gazing out to sea.

"Why do we do this?" Romeo wondered.

"Admire the sea?" Juliet said. "Dunno, we were programmed long ago by humans. Seems rather pointless."

They cross-processed some historical detail about climate change and sea-levels rising before Juliet added, "I wonder – did they make more sea-water because they liked it?"

Her fellow robot shrugged. "Perhaps. Humans are stupid. My pet certainly was. I had to recycle him last week down at the human bank."

"How irritating. Will you get another?"

"Perhaps. It's the thought of having to train them. They just never learn."

2 Comments

The Angel, by Arthur KC Chan

17/5/2019

3 Comments

An angel landed in front of a tatted tomb, letting off a shrivelled oldster.

John Lee
April 8, 1945 – March 3, 1979
Murdered
Killer at large

“You’d been such a good friend to me. You saved me from alcohol, told me Bible. But I stole your money and, committed an unforgivable sin.” The withered knelt in tears. “I’m so sorry.”

The stone echoed the torture of the bad conscience.

Moments later the guilty soul turned to the winged, “I’m ready. Take me to hell.”

“The Lord weighs the heart,” the angel smiled tenderly. “But don’t you recognise me, my friend?”

3 Comments

The Red Hood, by Tate Christie

17/5/2019

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She strides beneath tall trees, red cloak riding behind. Twigs snap. She stops. Head sweeps left, right. Tucks escaping tresses back into the voluminous hood. Carries on.

The wolf pads behind. Four legs silent in soft debris.

She reaches the cottage. Puts a hand on the door. Wolf pounces. The stalking hunter pulls the trigger. Wolf sprawls at her feet.

Hunter swaggers from cover. Pumps the second shell. Looks at his prize expectantly.

She drops him. Puts a bullet between his surprised eyes.

Wolf rises on two legs. “You’re bait next time, Red,” he says, brushing leaves from his fur.

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Blind Faith, by Doug Bartlett

17/5/2019

2 Comments

The house was completely engulfed in fire. Flames bounded everywhere with thick, black smoke curling upwards into the dark sky. The young boy was trapped in his upstairs bedroom. He leaned out of the window as time was running out. The house would soon come crashing down, taking the boy’s life with it.

His father was standing in the yard below with outstretched arms. He yelled, “Jump, son, jump. I’ll catch you!” His son nervously cried out, “I can’t see you!” The father responded, “But I can see you!”… and that made all the difference.

2 Comments

Bakery Hill Circus, by Sir Troy Anthony Platt

17/5/2019

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Walking past the white circus tent at Bakery Hill. I decided to take a look at the acrobats practicing their act. Inside by the door I sat on the chair and looked up at the acrobats. They were swinging side to side. I always wanted to join the circus. I liked to work with the horses. The acrobats finished their practice and I was drawn to the main arena. A young child dressed in a cowboy hat started to practice his whip tricks. He was really good and he wave to me.

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Lord of Britanburg, by Bretagne

14/5/2019

3 Comments

He woke up in a daze. His long, dirty hair covered his eyes. He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. As he rose to his feet he noticed he was holding his axe. Confused, he moved the hair from his eyes. His hand was covered in blood. He was bleeding. “You fought a brave fight” a voice echoed from behind. “Where am I? Who are you?!” the wounded man asked as he turned to face the voice. “Ah, that is of no concern but I do know who you are. Lord Carsten of Britanburg… welcome to Valhalla.”

3 Comments

Mom Didn't Always Know Best, by Kim Favors

13/5/2019

2 Comments

Before: There’s nothing wrong with you.
After: Too bad you got sick. Now you won’t have a perfect attendance record.

Before: Don’t expect to dress like other kids, do things like other kids or be like other kids. You’re not like other kids. You’re different.
After: You look like a prostitute.

Before: Don’t take those courses. They’re for losers. You’re judged by the company you keep.
After: You need to take a typing class so you’ll have something to fall back on.

Before: I won’t see a therapist with you.
After: You had a wonderful childhood. What’s wrong with you?

2 Comments

The Island, by Julie Achilles

12/5/2019

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I had been to the Island before and knew I had to return, ease my mind, repair myself.

I don't know what is was about being there as opposed to anywhere else on earth, maybe the peace and tranquillity, the way the Aegean sea's shallow waters meant I could stand alone in what seemed the midst of the ocean.

Whatever it was it worked, restoration. I turned one day, saw the mountain range, olive groves and golden sand and decided I could go on with life, I had to.

I stood on the ferry and waved goodbye- for now.

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Writing Lessons with St Francis de Sales, by Ella Craig

11/5/2019

2 Comments

‘I can’t do this, Frank.’

‘Is my task too hard for you?’

‘I am struggling to find words which comply with your instructions, and my writing is turning into pompous rubbish.’

‘How disappointing!’ Frank laughs in triumph.

‘Trying to avoid a common symbol is making it difficult to construct a plot for my story.’

‘Is that why your copy is so tortuous?’

‘This is your fault, and I want you to go.’

‘Your output may fall to nothing.’

‘I’ll risk it, now, sod off.’

‘Told you this wouldn’t work,’ Frank grins. ‘From now on, try trusting your own instincts.’

2 Comments

The Bee in Waikiki, by Lisa Miller

10/5/2019

2 Comments

A boy swats at a buff-tailed bumblebee extending its tongue to a pink petal flower with bursts of honey-lemon in the middle. Pausing underneath, a ladybug, barely clinging to a chewed-on leaf. Furious, the Bee buzzes next to the boy’s ear chasing him from Lilly and Ben’s abundant Garden and beyond. The ladybug makes a beeline to a twig, waiting for his return. Reappearing, both navigate towards the fresh salt air (bad for bees). The ladybug lands on a lei (flower necklace) in Waikiki. The Bee struggles along the ocean shoreline… drifting.

2 Comments

The Heiress, by Geraldine McCarthy

10/5/2019

4 Comments

Inside the funky, non-alcoholic bar, a hub-bub of voices: ‘Do smartphones wreck your love life?’ ‘Would you let your parents choose your date?’ A typical evening with the girls.

Courtney craved a Spicy Bloody Mary. Not that alcohol was the answer; or so they said on the happiness course (which would – wait for it - count towards her degree).

She had big dreams, Courtney did. Imagined herself an heiress, hob-nobbing with the elite. Didn’t just want to play a wife or girlfriend, wanted to be someone.
It would all come right in the end. When she’d find her biological mother.

4 Comments

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