Moving offices

I recently moved offices.
I threw out the stuff I didn’t want to move from the old office, boxed up everything I wanted to move, and carried it across the hall to the new office.
It took a while for the facilities crew to move my desk. I didn’t want to move it myself because it was big, heavy, and my back was hurting from moving the boxes.
I worked from a small side table for a day.
Once the desk arrived, I arranged my shelves, hung poster frames, and connected the equipment back up.
Then, I shut the door.

Frog Virus

I twisted the lid off of the jar, bent over, and shook the frog on to the grass.
The frog righted itself, licked its eyes, and hopped away.
“Happy hunting,” i said.
Two months later, the mosquitos in the area were gone.
The frog I’d released had a virus which inserted DNA into other frogs that caused them to gorge themselves on mosquitos.
The virus had spread quickly among the population.
No more nasty pesticides. No more fervent searches for stagnant water.
I smiled, and licked my lips.
No more mosquitos to eat.
Maybe a nice cheeseburger will do instead?

Weekly Challenge #687 – LOGIC



There used to be a little heart in that garden, filled with hope. And that heart grew and grew. The little heart wasn’t so little anymore when it decided to leave the safety of the garden. He still recalled the butterflies and the tree house though. He even recalled the weasel and the pelican. When the little heart was arrested, the only thing he could think of was how far away the garden was and how he wished he could go back. But then he remembered… he had torched the garden, because that had been the right thing to do.



One of my friends in school was known by the nickname ‘Spock’.

It wasn’t that he was incredibly intelligent and able to employ his razor sharp scientific observations to solve the most difficult problems. Neither was he a nerd, geek or trekkie – if anything, he was rather mundane, and preferred soap opera to sci-fi.

He didn’t have jet black hair, styled in a bowl cut, slanty eyebrows, or pointy ears. In fact, he was blonde, fat and nondescript.

So why Spock?

Well he was Scottish, and we already had one ‘Jock’ in our class.

That’s kid logic for you.


Logic dictates that any serial killer will eventually be caught.

They will either make a critical error of judgement, a simple mistake, or establish a pattern of activity that, by a series of logical deductions, leads to their downfall.

Advances in forensic psychiatry and geoprofiling have made it ever more difficult for the dedicated sociopath to hide their tracks.

Logic, not the law, is the killer’s worst enemy.

And that’s why my killing sprees are random, chaotic affairs. No patterns, no commonalities, no particular rationale.

I simply kill when I feel like it – anyone, anywhere, any time, any method.


“What I hate about humans,” began Spock, “is that they lie. They speak truth only by accident.”

“Feelings are irrelevant,” said Seven of Nine.

“We Vulcans master our feelings,” said Spock, “never obey them.”

“We Borg have no feelings, only intentions,” replied Seven. “But I concur with your assessment of the humans’ character.”

“Yet we are both half human.” They looked inquiringly at Data.

“My creator was human,” said Data, “and made me to aspire to that state. This corrupts my judgement.”

They agreed. “The humanity we acquired to decide their fate, prevents us deciding.”

Thus humans continued to live.


If Not to the Swiftest, Then Who?

Carl was the worst cross county racer at our school. Hell it was the worst cross county racer in the whole district. From the first steep to the last, he was losing ground. Lord the kid had heart, pump those leg just as hard as he could. Just didn’t have the raw talent to compete. Still for four years he ran. You’d think he’d at least the respect of his fellow runners, nope. Didn’t matter to Carl, he just ran. In 1992 an airplane when down in the Chilean desert 125 folk never made it out One man did.

Spokian Logic

When I was in college in 1972 one of the problems in my logic text book was how to find the weight of one coin heaver or lighter of 12, in just three weightings. This problem was an even one, and in the convention of college text had to solution in back of said text. Fast forward to 1992 ending up in a college logic class, same text, same no solution. But in 2012 the miracle of the internet produced the solution. The answer lay in the number of coin in each weighting 4-3-1. And bit of Modis Tollens


Sudden panic seemed to have the affect Billbert needed at that moment, and he dropped quickly back into his seat.

How Marrissa missed his rapid dissent back below the desk wasn’t the only thing that defied logic. Why the prettiest and most popular girl in the school was batting her long, artificial lashes at the scrawniest, most unremarkable boy in town, and telling him he was cute, didn’t make any sense.

It didn’t matter if it was obvious to any rational, sentient being that she was setting him up for a fall, Billbert didn’t care. He was taking the bate.


The banks buy everything back to New York.
Treating the rest of the country… the world as their taking.
The Yankees buy all the talent back to New York.
Treating the rest of baseball as their farm team to plunder and pillage.
Everything about New York… the restaurants, the theatres, the comedy clubs.
They take and take and take.
And then, one day, the rest of the world stopped letting them take.
They sealed the tunnels, blew up the bridges, and sank all the ferryboats.
Build walls around the burroughs, sealing in New York.
And protecting the world from greed.

The topic of the next weekly challenge is PLOT

Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at

Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them.

Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is PLOT

Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE.

Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges.

Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website.

Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience.

I put the episode together on Sunday morning. However, if you need more time, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post.

Good luck, and as always… keep it brief.

JAN 6 corner
JAN 13 adult
JAN 20 The Devil
judge, delivery, your, lion, unicorn, cherry, Incense, if

FEB 3 transmission
FEB 10 mug
FEB 17 sharp
bob, stitch, eaten, pittance, delete, trumpet, ribcage, ticke, Ziegler

MAR 3 wordy
MAR 10 kill
MAR 17 why can’t you be more like your sister?
MAR 24 confluence
standard, grafitti, blinding, blithering, pony, sparkle, amuse, Fire

APR 7 emotive
APR 14 charge
APR 21 potato chips
hire, heart attack, strip, weaponize, fink, nancy, Bumbling, volt

MAY 5 jack
MAY 12 slurp
MAY 19 zone
stunted growth, bath, passive, pelt, atmosphere,nameless,tendency

JUN 2 surrounded
JUN 9 losing
JUN 16 logic

JUN 23 plot
reason, discretion, zone, stunt, simple, deadwood, Tuba

JUL 7 current
JUN 14 devotion
JUL 21 peer
alligator, bath, vindictive, caterwaul, mildred, bruises, That’s Life, mush

AUG 4 speed
AUG 11 lady
AUG 18 partners
German, in the darkness…, vehicle, halfway, cute, color-coded, Pan

SEP 1 furrow
SEP 8 dresser
SEP 15 void
SEP 22 net
void, intertwine, den, get, fudged, meltdown, Tan

OCT 6 smutty
OCT 13 sturdy
OCT 20 tool
saucy, holidays, turtle, boom, cluster, chainsaw, Breast

NOV 3 boom
NOV 10 who cares?
NOV 17 option
panel, acid, blaine, current, coma, stink, Taste

DEC 1 sassy
DEC 8 the F word
DEC 15 broken
DEC 22 throne
probiotic, seventh, fletch, brown manilla envelope, mention, that’s what she said…, Support


The Forest of Death

Johnny was ten years old, dressed in Union blues and holding the flag high as he ran through the trees with his father, his uncles, and his brothers to charge the grey Rebel lines.
Bullets everywhere. Men and boys, screaming and falling into the dirt and mud and water.
Blood and death, bodies trampled into the earth, into the shadow of night, where you couldn’t tell where man ended and ground began, or the blue from gray.
Johnny dropped his flag, stopped, and stared at the surrounding carnage.
He fell to his knees, and instead of a prayer, he vomited.

Darkness Inspires

I’ve had a lot of things on my mind in the past few months.
I’ve tried to draw inspiration from them, but instead, I find myself dwelling, trapped by my thoughts.
Instead of writing my way through the fear and pain, and finding strange new territory to explore, I find myself digging myself deeper into them.
Trapped. Scared. Alone.
The few bright spots are hard to see through the darkness and gloom.
But I know that they are there.
I pet my cats. I watch Netflix and on-demand.
Maybe the light will come back soon.
And I’ll follow it out.

Schroedinger’s Job

I’m scared.
I’m really scared.
I said something I shouldn’t have.
And I totally regret saying it.
Yeah, I was mad.
Yeah, I was frustrated.
But that’s no excuse.
Now, I don’t know if I have a job.
I have to wait for the managers to investigate and discuss the situation.
Until then, I’m suspended.
With pay, but that doesn’t really help in the long run.
I’ve left jobs without knowing where the next job was.
And it’s absolute hell.
The waiting and not-knowing is awful.
I’m tempted to call in and quit.
Just so that I know for certain.


I packed the picnic basket, loaded up the horses, and we rode out into the forest.
We rode for half an hour, until I found the perfect spot.
We dismounted, and spread out the blanket.
Then, we unloaded the basket for our afternoon meal.
As I held the bottle of wine, I realized that I had forgotten the corkscrew.
“Should I go back?” I asked my companion.
“No,” she said. She took out a Swiss Army Knife, and flicked out a corkscrew.
So handy.
Unfortunately, the Swiss Army Knife didn’t include a condom.
And nine months later, you were born.

Ice shards

It’s not hard to make ice cubes.
Pour water into a tray.
Then put the tray in the freezer.
Let the water in the tray freeze.
Then dump the ice into a bucket.
Repeat this as needed.
Sometimes, I forget to let the water freeze.
And half-frozen shards fall into the bucket with a trickle of water.
Even if I pour out the water, the ice shards freeze together.
The bucket becomes a solid block of ice.
And I have to bash it against the counter to dump it out.
Then, I get out the trays, and fill them up.

Con Man

Call it what you will:
Three-Card Monte
The Shell Game
Cups And Balls
It’s a magic trick, slight-of-hand, and a con game.
Make people think they have the advantage when they don’t.
Open a fake telegraph office, and take people’s money to tap a telegraph key that wasn’t connected to anything.
Open a fake Army induction office, and while the doctor checked out the men, the nurse stole their wallets.
So, you challenge him to a duel, and he lets you choose a pistol from his set.
And he hands you a bullet.
That turns out to be a blank.