Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was LODGE.
We’ve got stories by:
- Dionysis Clowes
- Tura Brezoianu
- Norval Joe
- Singh – Available in separate post
- Planet Z
The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of MONSTER.
Finally, if there are any errors or corrections, please let me know, and I’ll fix them as soon as possible.
Lost Tooth Returns Home, by John Musico
When we were kids; I tripped and hit my teeth on my brother’s head. Half my front tooth broke off. We searched for my tooth but it was lost. The trauma left me growing up like a jack o lantern and my brother with a permanent knot on his scalp. Years later I got a phone call from him. The lump on his head burst and out came the missing tooth. He mailed it to me. I still wear my long lost tooth around my neck. I’m planning to switch it out with the artificial cap I had eventually gotten.
Stuck for Words
by Jeffrey Fischer
He felt the words lodge in his throat. “I’m s..s…” was all he could get out.
His girlfriend fumed. Just like him, to gag on a simple apology. Why couldn’t he say he was sorry? She certainly had apologized when she didn’t live up to the standards of two people in love. A little make-up sex from time to time helped, too.
“I’m s…so….” There he went again! Now the guy was getting purple in the face. What a diva! She felt herself starting to get mad. Maybe she needed to rethink her future with him, if this was the way it was going to be.
His head crashed into the table and his body went limp. He didn’t seem to be breathing.
Hmm, she thought. In retrospect, perhaps his gestures *did* look more like a man choking than a man trying to apologize. Live and learn.
by Jeffrey Fischer
Frank looked at the appalling mess around him. Bedclothes were strewn about, paper had been shredded and tossed around the apartment like confetti, and an acrid smell that he couldn’t quite place permeated the room.
Then it came back to him. He had fallen in love at first sight and readily agreed to the suggestion that she spend the night. “Just overnight,” he said. “I’m not looking for a permanent lodger.” After sharing a meal, there was a playful romp. Later, when they were both tuckered out, they fell asleep, snuggling.
Now, in the cold light of day, he wondered if he had done the right thing. The beagle puppy thumped her tail enthusiastically as she looked expectantly at Frank. Probably waiting for more food, he thought. While he waited for his friend to pick up his dog, Frank found that dog urine indeed permanently stained the carpet.
#1 – George’s Story: Part 56 – Board and lodging
Rasputin sneered down at George, “Good! For a moment, I thought you might be trying to leave us.”
George smiled nervously at the giant.
“Actually, I was thinking it was maybe time to move on… if you don’t mind that is?”
Rasputin sneered again: “Is not possible! We stick together – you will lodge here with us – there is strength in numbers.”
George’s frustration mounted – again, he tried to ‘feel the force’ inside him – “But what exactly are you hoping to achieve here?”, he blurted out.
Rasputin smiled: “Simple. We drink tea, and we wait… for the end of the world!”
#2 – Complaints Department
‘Press one to make a purchase; two for payment enquiries; three to lodge a complaint’
I pressed three and was surprised to be put through, almost immediately to a cheerful and sympathetic customer service advisor.
“I’d like to lodge a complaint”, I explained.
“Oh, I’m so sorry – I hope you haven’t been inconvenienced?”
She was very friendly: we ended up chatting for a while – in fact, by the end, we had the stirrings of a beautiful friendship.
To tell the truth, we got on so well it would have been a shame to spoil it by complaining.
So I didn’t!
# 3 – Initiation
The lodge initiation ceremony seemed a little over the top, but I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I went along with it, without comment.
Even when they made me roll up my trouser leg, slipped a noose around my neck and held a knife to my chest, I just closed my eyes and waited for it to all be over.
Things became a little clearer in the bar afterwards, when I asked a fellow member where they kept the vases.
“Oh, we’re the Freemasons,” he said, “I think you want the flower arranging group… they meet next door!”
I am so glad that Cliff, I mean Munsi convinced us to have our club’s convention in Muncie. All the votes are in. The change has been approved. I don’t think I like the idea of changing the name of the club to The Order of Munsi and calling everyone Munsi but must ask for help removing the log lodged in my own eye out before I consider taking any sliver out of Munsi Munsi’s eye. New business, someone review contracts with me to see if I can return everything with the The Order of John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt letterhead.
“I remember my mother used to say, every Spring, It’s time for little animals to come out of their ‘lodges.’ Then we’d all go traipsing off through the countryside to see the small mammals coming out of their ‘lodges.’” He stopped whispering and looked at his hands in the murky light of the cellar.
We listened — we always listened now. Nothing. We’d been holed up in there for three days; we’d barely just escaped from somewhere, always, since it started.
Then we heard the pad of tiny feet, a few, then a thousand, scurrying, scratching, and we knew.
For the bullet to lodge where it could cause no damage at all, other than a superficial flesh wound, was not only extraordinary, it was downright annoying!
I could scarcely believe what had happened.
Months of preparation and meticulous planning had gone into this operation, despite which, a complete fluke meant the only damage done amounted to a moment of shocked surprise, followed by a small, and barely noticeable, trickle of blood and a host of secret servicemen running about like maniacs.
I sighed, then shrugged, and proceeded to empty all the remaining bullets in the clip into his chest.
A Well Defined Relationship Part 48 and 49
“Lord Vader long range scans have detected a bowing in the time-space
fabric.” “Yes, Colonel Lucas, I’ve just now felt a radical shift in the
force. Direct the Death Star to this point in the Delta Quadrant.” When
the sphere came out of hyperspace it was greeted by a single Federation
Starship glowing like the backend of a supernova. “Remove THAT from my
sight.” “Yes Lord Vader.” The Death Star aimed, pulsed and fired.
“Mister Sulu Pike Maneuver, Chekov full power to the shields. Duke a
little help here.”
“Got it pilgrim.”
“Captain, shields at 10,000%” cry the ensign
The boys from the Acorn Lodge arrived in front of the porch with a
collection of ceremonial armaments most hadn’t been fired since the clone
wars. “Better get these all oiled and tested. Don’t want any
self-inflicted wounds,” said Banister. “What are they wearing on their
heads?” ask Timmy. “Those are Acorn Nuts, a rather arcane fastening
device,” said the senator. “Looks pretty stupid.” “Don’t be so quick to
judge, Master Parsons, the member of the Acorn Lodge come from the fifth
highland regiment,” said the doctor. Now it was Timmy’s turn to look
pretty stupid.” “Sorry,” said the boy
My Living Situation
By Christopher Munroe
I’m looking for my fifth apartment of this year.
The first and third evicted me with illegally short notice, without benefit of warning or reason. The second and fourth were friend’s places, where I gratefully crashed while seeking somewhere permanent.
Hopefully five will be the charm, I could use a place to call my own. It’s been too many years since anywhere’s genuinely felt like “home” to me.
But there are times I worry that this is simply my lot in life, to move endlessly from apartment to apartment, never grounded.
Travelling without rest, never settling down.
The Artful Lodger.
A Job in a new town
By Jeff Hema
Mom hooked me up with a hotel with bare bones service, but I wouldn’t have needed her help if it were not for the real estate agency’s red tape.
The guy expressed with gravitas that if one document was missing, I wouldn’t have the keys to the apartment.
The first night at the hotel veered onto an acrimonious experience: when I awoke in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, the key was lodged in the door, and there was no phone to contact the owner.
I had to do it in a bowl to relieve myself.
Hash – Part 5
The steel bar telegraph went crazy after Davidson’s encounter with Hercules.
Bigger than the daily numbers lottery; this wager was electric. betting on
when they would break Davidson.
Everyone wanted in; even the punks, diaper snipers, and cheese eaters in
protective segregation. The syndicate went into overdrive.
Bets were lodged through the gang heads and the block kings; funneled to The
Reckoner’s personal accountant; who now held book on almost every stamp,
cigarette, fuck mag, and piece of illegal contraband in the joint.
Most of the cons were pulling for Davidson but betting against him. They
knew the odds.
The snowstorm had sprung up unexpectedly during my hike. I could only press on, trying to find a way off the mountain. Every time I fell down, it was harder to get up.
A building loomed out of the blinding snow. A hunting lodge, deserted at this season. With my last strength I found my way inside, and half collapsed in front of the roaring fire.
It seemed odd for there to be a fire going, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep.
They found me before I froze to death, lying in the snow on an empty mountainside.
You all know that feeling in the back of your throat that signifies the start of a cold. Telling you that there’s a foreign creature living and breeding inside your body and there’s little you can do now to stop it.
You drink the OJ, take the Cold FX and pray to every deity you can think of to fend off this cold. But in the end you know the truth, this creature has lodged itself inside your body. Set up camp and made you it’s home for the next week, and all you get out of it is misery.
“You didn’t feel someone pushing you?” asked the surgeon, checking the exams. The strange object had lodged itself near the spine.
“No…” replied the young man. “It hurts… Can you remove it?”
“I’ll try,” said the surgeon.
The young man added hesitantly, “Odd thing… I also hear strange noises…”
The surgeon frowned.
Well, the operation went fine, yet the young man now heard voices.
In his office, the surgeon opened a sphere and typed “Subject intercepted test messages. Receptor fixed,” and added, “Begin countdown.”
Days later, Earth was not Earth anymore. It was a forced labor colony, one of many.
Your ex-wife calls me now.
She has heard me read my poems,
She wants to meet for drinks.
Your sister is our sister.
Strangely, I like her.
I wanted to dislike her.
Prettier than I,
Tinier, more fashionable—
She took you from me.
But, we are equally talented.
I forgive her.
Blonde only children, us both.
Both of us, bonded through you.
Equally blonde, evenly matched,
That you’ve flown to the wide sky
And you, my dear
If you are lodged
In my soul
After all this time,
You may stay.
There seems to be an overwhelming need for lodges and secret societies in the cartoon world. The Flintstones have the Water Buffalo Lodge. The Simpsons have their secret underground society The Stone Cutters. Even SpongeBob Squarepants got into the act when Squidward tried to join the Lodge of a secret society, until SpongeBob and Patrick got him kicked out. Television popularizing lodges without providing much detail to their purpose or beliefs. These cartoon lodges, all in plain sight for quite some time, but never really talked about. It seems cartoons, like the one percent, are conspiring their evil against us.
Dergle thought he must be dreaming. A stylized image of a dachshund was etched into a brass plate on an ancient oaken door. Inside the windowless lodge all conversations stopped as Dergle stepped onto plush carpet of the smoking room. Thirty men, or more, stared.
Glassy-eyed glares from wiener dog hats perched on each head, doubled the oppressive discomfort.
Dergle cleared his throat, pulled his dachshund hoodie over his head, and said, “I think I belong here.”
The Grand Wienie, himself, adorned in black and tan wiener dog mantle, welcomed Dergle to the Mysterious Order of the Unknown Wiener Dog.
My favorite Irish pub has one of those posters where a pint of Guinness is lodged in an ostrich’s throat.
There’s a whole series of these posters featuring various zoo animals in various states of thwarting zoo personnel and absconding with the famous beverage.
So, when I planned to rob the payroll safe at the Guinness Brewery, my first idea was to release a variety of zoo animals to distract the staff.
They mauled and killed a lot of the staff.
Served them right. The safes were empty. The bastards had switched to Direct Deposit and wire transfers years ago.