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
Let your conscience be your guide…
Unless you’re in a foreign country in which case, I can’t stress this enough, hire an actual guide.
Guides know the local spots you’d want to see, the best destinations, best restaurants, wherever you go guides can help you get the most out of your trip.
Plus, they’ll keep you from getting lost. And, if you’ve travelled somewhere where you don’t speak the language, that’s not inconsiderable.
So hire a guide and don’t skimp on the price. The expense is worth it.
And when it comes to tipping: Let your conscience be your guide…
by Jeffrey Fischer
I watched the blind man use his cane to tap his way along the subway platform. He had trouble finding the escalator, so two young men helped guide him to the right spot. I followed the trio as they made their way into the station. The men helped their new friend through the station and into the bus depot.
I entered the depot just in time to hear the blind man thank the men and ask to be pointed toward the ticket counter. My colleagues moved in closely, screening the blind man from any prying eyes, while I robbed the man of his wallet and cell phone.
It’s so great helping the blind: you’re confident that the police won’t have a description of the robbers.
The Great American Novel
by Jeffrey Fischer
John had quit his job to write the Great American Novel that he knew lived inside him. He laid out a dozen sharpened pencils, unpacked a ream of paper, and was ready to start. He guided a sheet of paper into his Selectric – no word processor for him, only classic technology! – and sat until inspiration struck.
Three hours later, he reviewed his work: a handful of incoherent nouns and verbs, sometimes both in the same sentence, with the occasional random adjective. Word count: 100. He concluded that perhaps the novel was not his metier. He would instead write the Great American Drabble.
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AttachmentsMar 8 (5 days ago)
Here we go again, another week, another story – still, looking on the bright side, that’s one less to do before the ultimate… erm, never mind.
Topic – ‘Ultimate’
Catch up with you at the weekend.
The Gospel According to Norman: The Law and Love
You have heard it said The Law is your guide: Those who turn their back on the Law are cursed, but I tell you there is a better way.
The Law is good, but the enlightened should let love be their guide.
For who can doubt that whatever is pursued in love is good and blessed?
So, I tell you, follow love’s guidance and you’ll prosper… Whether love for your wife, your concubine, money and riches, or love for your neighbour’s ass – pursue it with all your heart, and all your might, no matter what the Law may say!
Timmy assembled his vision quest flight crew. A ceremonial magician, a Mayan shaman, and the personal secretary to the Dali Lama. His UCLA organic chemistry professor had brewed up a batch of peyote infused LSD. On Day Three his spirit guide appeared. A 12 foot crimson dragonfly named Bruce. “What do you seek?” hissed the dragon. “The edge of the vail.” Bruce’s wings rent the vail to reveal the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. “What is your name?” She drew her sword across the sand and wrote “Beatrice” “OH shit,” said Timmy and follow her into the mist.
One Less Dick
Morty hated each and every corporate retreat. Most of all he detested the trust building exercises. He squirted lighter fluid during the fire walk. Drop his partner in the backward pitch. When given the r/d encryption key he traded it for half a pack of cigarettes. He calculated his odds of being voted off the island as excellent. But the vote didn’t turn out as planned. Blind folded and cuffed Loraine of accounting guided him to the grassy knolled. The sting of the first scorpion trigger panic. Guide by the warmth of the sun he ran. Right off the cliff.
We Who Stand and Bark Also Serve
Barney was a guide dog. He was pretty good guide dog, but not particularly lucky guide dog. He was currently on his 12th owner. People just had a habit of dying on the poor dog. Wasn’t his fault. Cancer, MS, earthquakes, head on collisions. Who drowns during a hotel fire? How on earth can a scuba driver get impaled on redwoods in a Nation Forest? Then finally his luck changed. Little Judy Hunter was healthy, never left the yard and she feed him these amazing sweet brown candies. They buried Barney with the 49 Hershey wrappers. It seemed only fitting.
Creative writing is sort of like hiking a mountain without a guide. You will most likely meander off the beaten path, get lost along the way and they might have to call a search party.
If you’re lucky? You make it to the summit and those things only happen once or twice.
If you’re not? You’ll run into a lot of wannabe guides that think they know the right way to hike a mountain, even though they don’t own a pair of hiking shoes and they have never gotten close to a summit before.
Don’t listen to them. Keep hiking.
We got sent on one of those team building courses to try and get us to gel. I had serious doubts that it would work.
Even so, I played along as we took part in various ridiculous exercises through the day.
After building rafts, orienteering and struggling through obstacle courses, I was fed up, so when they announced a game to ‘build trust’, I decided enough was enough.
I was expected to guide my blindfolded partner through a long forest path.
Which served to bring the day to an abrupt halt, when I guided him straight over a cliff edge!
“We better throw it in the garbage,” complained Tim infuriated.
“I’ll fix it,” said Paul.
“We’ve been here for ages, Paul.”
Paul rolled his eyes and continued to work.
“Forget about it, I tell you.”
“I will fix it.”
This continued for a few hours, Paul getting more and more aggravated.
Suddenly, the thing started purring.
“See,” said Paul triumphantly.
“But it’s making an odd noise…”
Paul closed his eyes for a second, gave the thing a swift jerk and swung it at Tim.
What a shame, he hadn’t followed Tim’s words and thrown the damn saw in the garbage.
The Art of the Guide
The professor began the class by donning his white apron along with the tall chef’s hat, he then spoke.
“Today’s session more of a guide rather than a ridged rule in the art of poaching and sautéing” he began, “who can give me examples of when you sauté, as to when you want to poach?”
Hannibal, raised his hand, “I believe you’d want sauté the sweet meats of the brain in butter with a hint of garlic as compared to lightly poaching the eye balls and serving in a red sauce, Professor.”
“Excellent example Mr. Lector, excellent”, the professor beamed.
Apparently, shocked by his sudden attack, Polecat stood frozen as Monkey Boy used her head for leverage and lept over her, dashing toward the Primate area of the zoo.
Knowing the zoo’s layout by heart, having worked the whole summer as a guide, he slipped behind the orangutan exhibit and skidded to a stop at the howler monkeys.
“Count to twenty and then let loose with all you’ve got,” he whispered before doubling back.
A half-minute later all hell broke loose in the monkey cages with hoots, howls, and screams.
He watched, hiding, as Polecat’s crew ran toward the diversion.
Guide, or, The Rectification of Names
The people complained against the strictness of the Laws. General Wei said, “In a well-ordered state, those above guide and those below follow.”
He replaced the Laws by Guidelines, and decreed that each citizen rightly apply them to circumstances. The Magistrates were reappointed as Inspectors, instead of trials they held inspections, and instead of punishments they made recommendations, enforced by their officers.
Henceforth, when a thief was hanged for a sack of rice, the people no longer said, “See the injustice of the law!”, but “See the injustice of this criminal!”
Thus by the rectification of names was order restored.
Billy’s high school girlfriend volunteered as a tour guide to the local art museum.
Then, she dumped him. And started dating another voulteer tour guide.
Billy swore he’d have his revenge.
So, he spent all his time in the basement, working on a robotic tour guide.
The art museum would use the robot, and get rid of volunteers.
And after weeks of tinkering with gyroscoping balancing and interactive voice prompts, he made the robot.
It worked brilliantly. The art museum got rid of their volunteers.
Which gave his girlfriend and her boyfriend lots of free time.
To screw around more.