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:
One Saturday Morning at the Waffle House
by Jeffrey Fischer
The waitress came over to the new customer, who had seated himself at the counter. “Coffee?” she asked, motioning to the carafe in her hand. He nodded. She retrieved her order pad. “What can I get for you?”
“Just a stack of flapjacks.”
“Right, one order of pancakes coming up.”
“No, not pancakes, *flapjacks*.”
“It’s the same thing, sir. We call them pancakes here… just look at the menu.”
“It’s not the same thing at all.” He sighed. “Fine, then some hotcakes.”
“Those are pancakes, too.”
“Where did the cook learn his trade? Hotcakes and flapjacks are not pancakes. If you insist, though, fine. I’ll take some griddle cakes.”
The waitress wrote “pancakes” on her pad. “Very well, sir. One order of griddle cakes coming right up.”
#1 – Stationery
I miss the old fashioned way: Take stationery, for example. Nobody writes letters any more – I miss notepaper and proper pens. And because nobody writes letters, nobody posts anything anymore.
The simple satisfaction of writing a letter, folding the paper with a crisp, sharp crease before neatly sealing it away in an envelope is a rare pleasure.
Although even that has lost its charm since self-sealing envelopes and self-adhesive stamps.
I miss the taste of the gum on envelopes.
Although, to be honest, I don’t miss the horrifying pain of slicing my tongue on a razor sharp paper flap!
#2 – Unflappable
They called him ‘unflappable’. No matter what the circumstances or how big the challenge, he approached everything with the same cool, calm demeanour. Nothing bothered him, he never grew angry, lost control or showed any hint of being out of control.
Challenges were simply water off a duck’s back.
So we were intrigued to see how well he measured up to this, the greatest challenge he’d yet faced in his life.
He plummeted towards the ground, landing with a sickening thud and an explosion of fathers.
If there’s one thing a bird must learn… It is to flap!
#3 – Cat flap
The local newspaper says cat flap break-ins are on the increase. Presumably committed by ‘cat burglars’?
I thought I’d give it a try, so after my neighbour left for work, I reached through his cat flap, easily removing his keys from the lock.
Unfortunately, he had nothing worth stealing, so I made do with a cup of tea and a sandwich with some ham I found in his fridge.
I carefully left in the manner I’d arrived, only to find I myself had been burgled!
I don’t have a cat flap – I’d stupidly left my front door wide open!
He caused a major flap when he spoke to the science club. We always allowed ten minutes for announcements prior to our meeting.
He told them that he dreamed that the use of electronic devices could be used to solve complicated mathematical and logic problems.
It was not by the use of logic, binary math, or the manipulation of any kind of quantities, it was by the observation of the look of the device following the full run or random run of the device. What lights were on, what was activated?
The club members had little or no creative intelligence.
The tent flap suddenly flew open and any vague hope of privacy vanished in a split second.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Hamilton’s raspy voice echoed through the valley.
“Nothing.” Romeo tried to conceal the true reason of his embarrassment by pulling the sleeping bag over his lap.
The camp monitor was relentless and drilled him with questions.
When she left, her doubts not totally set aside, Romeo smiled.
“That was a close call.”
The short alien nodded and grinned.
“Good thing we don’t have these small houses back home, we just become invisible.”
“What?! Why didn’t you say so?”
Modern technology had made stalking so much simpler, I thought as I glued back the small flap of skin.
The transponder I’d embedded in her flesh would keep me updated on her GPS coordinates, intercept her phone calls and texts, and it was even capable of recording and transmitting sound.
Once she awoke from the vodka administered narcotic, she’d be none the wiser – just a little confused as to how she’d come to be in this back alley. And I would be long gone… But far closer than she could ever imagine.
Job done, I disappeared into the shadows.
The trap door spider is miss-named. Anyone can see that! Lie down on your belly and watch.
Along comes a tasty bug, minding its own business, bothering nobody, looking for¾ whatever tasty bugs look for. Suddenly a section of flat earth flips up, the spider grabs the tasty bug, drags it underground before it can even scream, and the scene is as flat as before.
If you’ve ever been hanged, you know that a Trap door drops out from under you. It does not lift up so you can be grabbed. They ought to call it a Flap door spider.
Baby its Cold Outside.
The wind was wiping about the tent. Someone had not secured the flap and the artic breeze was having its way with Desmond. He wasn’t about to get out of the nice warm sleeping bag. Better to curse the cold, then freeze one’s ass off. “Barney can you get that?” Barney look at him as if he had asked him to crawl on his chest through broken glass. He tried Fred next, but didn’t even get an acknowledgement. He didn’t even attempt to enlist Bruce. They found them after the spring thaw, well persevered, the flap waving in the wind.
ða hrefnas (The ravens)
The ravens arrive thundering in thick throngs
Their wings furiously flap as they flock
Mobbing the traveller, mocking with malign caws
“Hraak, hraak,” they cry, the ravening ravens.
A faint heart is fearful of the foul birds
A weak-headed wight fares poorly against wise foes
The strong man stays his course, striving ever onwards
Doughty are his deeds in the dark of their wings
With his stout staff he lays about to strike
Nor without wounds does he wager to win
Surely he shatters the birds’ swift bodies.
Thus must a man make merry with death
Turning always towards it.
He found the envelope on the desk in his work station. It was good that he’d come in early. He wouldn’t have to explain to his coworkers who Yorick was and why he was opening a letter addressed to, whoever-he-was.
The fact that the name read, Yorick, was evidence that the letter wasn’t left by any of the 1000 people who worked in the office building.
He turned it over. The flap wasn’t glued, only tucked in.
Inside, the card read, “Alas, poor Yorick. I’ll miss you.”
Benny looked around the room. All the cubicles were as silent as death.
The Butterfly Effect states that when a butterfly flaps its wings in China, it can start a chain of events that lead to a deadly hurricane in Florida, or some other absurd consequence.
What really happens is that when a butterfly flaps its wings in China, a nearby cat notices the butterfly, and the cat chases the butterfly around.
Sometimes, the cat catches the butterfly. Other times, the cat merely watches the butterfly flap around.
Whatever the outcome, it certainly isn’t a hurricane in Florida.
Or a flaming gateway to Hell. That’s there because you never cleaned your room, Johnny.