Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
We’ve got stories by:
By Christopher Munroe
I’ve seen Inception.
I mean, it’s the type of movie I WOULD see. I love Chris Nolan, he makes interesting, thinky blockbusters that blend spectacular visual effects with densely packed ideas, and I respond consistently well to his films.
Plus, I remember watching the film, enjoying the performances and talking on my way home about whether Leo had woken up or not. I remember it vividly.
But, in spite of all that, if it were just a case of somebody putting the MEMORY of the movie Inception in my mind while I slept, how would I know?
your own steps in flight
I thought about you today. I remember the day I took the picture tacked to
the wall. Something had caught your interest and just the shadow of a
smile graced your face. I thought I had boxed up all the photos after the
funeral, but this one had somehow escaped the purge and was hiding under a
CalStrs report. Just a corner was showing, just a small edge of your hair,
but enough to send me sailing through time and space. I thought we would
grow old together. Wasn’t to be. I think I’ll leave that one on the wall.
by Jeffrey Fischer
Jeremy opened the exam. His eyes skimmed the first question, then the next and the next. He started to panic, all rational thoughts gone from his mind. He didn’t understand how this was happening. He had studied for this test harder than any previous one, and knew the material cold. For some reason, all he could recall were songs from his favorite metal bands and strategies for winning at Fallout 4. Only then did it occur to him that “studying” for the exam while listening to music and playing Fallout might not have been his best strategy.
by Jeffrey Fischer
John had no real foreign policy expertise, but years in politics allowed him to fake it. He would listen to subordinates, ponder, stare at a point in the distance, and prepare to deliver Deep Thoughts. Examples included such gems as “Peace is important to the region,” and “We would be gravely concerned if Iran developed nuclear weapons,” and the bumper-sticker classic that “War is not the answer.”
A newcomer asked some of the old hands why they didn’t challenge John on his vague statements. One veteran finally broke the awkward silence. “The last time we insisted the boss come up with concrete guidance instead of his usual vague bullshit, we got James Taylor in Paris. Never again.”
It was Spring, and the young man turned his thoughts to love…rather erotic trysts in the back of the school bus during football games. His target was Myrna Cotton. Jerry wished her mango was a little more pert, but he couldn’t be too fussy, given the time he had to join paunches with Myrna. Three days after his encounter with Myrna, Jerry was at the chemist buying cures identified as oils, compounds, expectorants, coated tablets, drops, liquids, waters, purifiers, balsams, renewers, balms, extracts, seltzers, preparations, vapors, and liniments. None of them worked, and Jerry’s El Jefe had to be excised.
I enjoy thought problems. I’ll share one. You have an enemy combatant in your care. He knows where the bomb is hidden. You are alone with the man, and you have a toolbox full of pliers, hammers and linoleum knives. What is going through your mind as you try to reason with the man and repeatedly ask him where he secreted the bomb? After two hours, he has said nothing but his name. You eye the pliers in the toolbox. Do you start pulling his teeth or ripping out his fingernails, or do you give up and go to lunch?
I always thought that interventions were fucking rude. Some friends gathered together last night and sprung an intervention. They surprised me in my own living room under the pretense of giving me a going-away party for my upcoming, yearly, trip to Japan. I was really upset, but managed to hear them out without revealing anything, making excuses, or busting out in tears. One of them went to his car and brought in a big whiteboard filled with numbers. They showed me how much I had spent on rehab, medical bills, drugs and alcohol. I got sober at 2 this morning.
#1 – Fool’s Gold
Having secured the ogre as best he could – double granny knots, a squirrel hitch and twelve turns around the nearest tree – the hobbit’s thoughts turned to the gold.
He was now rich beyond his wildest dreams, but he had no idea how to move the treasure, and he knew his travelling companions weren’t going to let him keep it for himself.
His thoughts were interrupted by a distant roar: Shortly after, the sounds of panic-stricken adventurers, echoed throughout the forest, along with the sound of a very angry pursuing dragon.
“Oh crap!”, thought Boggins, “that’s all I need!”
#2 – The Gospel According to Norman: Advice Regarding Impure Thoughts
If a man, or woman (for in the eyes of the One True Law, they are also men), would entertain impure and base thoughts, then it shall be an abomination and they should be cast out and declared ritually unclean.
For it is better to enter the Kingdom of Norman adorned with filthy rags, yet possessed of pure and clean thoughts, than it is to profess innocence, yet be consumed with uncleanness and impurity.
Alternatively, you can choose to keep your thoughts secret and none will be any the wiser… For only a true fool admits to a smutty mind.
#3 – I had thoughts…
I had thoughts of writing a novel, but I didn’t have the time; I had thoughts to write a poem but the words just wouldn’t rhyme – well, they would, but no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t make them scan.
I had thoughts to become a man of letters, but I couldn’t afford the stamps, then email came along, and it’s just not the same.
All my literary leanings came to nothing… Books, blogs, journalism – never successfully.
However, I’ve found my niche: hundred word stories – at last, something I can do!
(Dammit… four words short!)
How much does a thought weigh? Is it as light as a flowing feather? Or as heavy as a broken heart? Is it as light as your deepest love or as heavy as your worst fear? And how much does the future weigh? More than the past? Less than the present? How much does a thought weigh when you’re afraid? Does it make you stare at the sky or does it make you sink in the ground? Is it as heavy as a string of tears or as light as a row of beads? How much does a thought weigh?
“Can’t you just, not think about it? Stop stressing yourself out. Breathe.”
It’s frustrating to say the least, when people treat your illness like it’s all in your head, because it has to do with your brain.
“Can’t you just, stop being diabetic? Stop taking your insulin. It will be fine.”
Are words you would never hear them say. No one tells you to just pull yourself up by the bootstraps when you have cancer or acid reflux.
The problem is, it’s not just in my head. It’s in everything I do.
I would stop if I could. Trust me.
We’ve all had those thoughts… You know the ones – the murderous, evil and cruel sort – often spawned in anger, but always cold, rational and considered.
We’ve all imagined killing our boss, spouse, or that irritating guy at the bar – we’ve run through scenarios in our minds, planned alibis and plotted how we’d dispose of the body.
You all think that I’m twisted and freaky, but the truth is, I only say what the rest of you have thought at some time or another, and you know that’s true.
It’s a thin line between thought, and action.
Did you feel that? I’ll do it again . . . did you feel it then? Yeah, I saw your fine hairs rise.
Would I pray for your buddy? Of course; I have the power but, I want the best result so here’s the question. Does a prayer to a facilitator exponentially enhance the energy of my thought or, like electricity flowing through a long conduit which may cause resistance, diminish it?
Dergle and Long John sat on a park bench, people passing by, apparently unaware of their presence.
“Is what the little girl said true in the converse?” he asked his dog. “If you can be whatever you want by just believing, if you stop believing in yourself will you cease to be whatever you were?”
The wiener dog raised his eyebrows.
Dergle continued, “The poet said, ‘As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.’ So. If I think in my heart I am nothing, I must be nothing.”
Dergle patted his dog. “Thanks for believing in me, boy.”
Have you ever tried to think about the very thought you’re thinking when you think about the thought?
It’s like taking a step backwards to see yourself. When you think about a thought, you’re not having *that* thought, you’re having a thought about it. And if you think about the thought about the thought, that’s a third thought.
Just as well. If you thought about a thought that was itself the thought about that thought, your mind could get stuck in a loop. I reckon that’s all that so-called enlightenment is: tying your brain in a knot it can’t untie.
Some comedian once said, “If you have a thought, maybe you should let it go.” You bet I should. Maybe this comedian was to drunk or high to drive. Probably didn’t even have a valid driver’s license. Has never before and never will respect the laws of descent society. Yet we try to be rational to irrationality, extend a hand in friendship to complete psychopaths. The type of person I used to represent in a court of law. So hand out some pretense and rage at the court of justice you now stage. It’s all just a lie. My thoughts.
Ted’s magic penny allowed him to read the thoughts of others.
Place it on their skin, and the connection was made.
Reading the thoughts of his dog Sam was so strange. For a week, he wanted to drink from Sam’s water bowl.
He tried the penny on his cousin Albert while he was asleep.
The twisted things he saw made him scream and vomit, and he ran away.
Albert used the penny in a museum souvenir press, and it warped Ted’s visions further.
Ted spent years in an children’s asylum, tormented and raving, until he choked on his own tongue.