February 14. Valentine’s Day.
The first telegram announced the birth of his daughter.
The second telegram told him to come home.
His wife was dying. And so was his mother.
Five hours later, he arrived home
He went back and forth, unsure of who to comfort more.
First, his mother died. And then his wife.
He sold the house, and his sister raised the baby.
Alice, named after her mother, but he called her Baby Lee.
They say that no matter how wide his smile, you could still see the sadness in his eyes.
He remarried, but never loved again.
Swing for the fences
Pops McGinty told his players to swing for the fences.
So, they do. And the team lost. A lot.
Twenty-seven pop-ups and fly outs, easily snagged by the outfielders.
There were a few dropped balls here and there, but mostly easy catches.
So, Pops McGinty clarified his earlier statement: swing for over the fences.
“Oh, now you tell us,” said his players.
And they hit the most home runs of any team ever.
In fact, the only way to get any of them out was to intentionally walk them, and then pick them off as they stood around first base.
Does Dallas
Regular verb, active voice, present tense: Debbie does Dallas.
Present participle: Debbie is doing Dallas.
Present participle, passive voice: Debbie is being done by Dallas.
Past tense, passive voice: Debbie was done by Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, past tense: Debbie did Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense: Debbie will do Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense, profressive: Debbie will be doing Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future conditional tense: Debbie shall do Dallas.
Imperative: Debbie, do Dallas.
The excited grammarian kept droning on, proving that there are things far worse than jerking off in an adult theater.
Weekly Challenge #616 – If only I had…
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:
RICHARD
If only I had…
If only I had more words than the measly hundred I’ve been allocated, I could do so much more…
Short stories, monologues and pulp fiction would flow from my keyboard like there was no tomorrow. Novels, trilogies even whole serialisations – great tomes of storytelling grandeur would spill from the creative forge of my mind, finding form in the written word.
Whole bookshops and libraries would be filled by the outpourings of my creativity.
But I’m stuck with these lousy one hundred words… And what the hell can you do with that?
You can’t even write a half decent dabble with just a
LIZZIE
If only I had a moment, one single moment…
I would close my eyes and listen to the languid swooshing of the old windmill.
I would be a seagull for a moment, one single moment, and feel the wind under my wings.
I would sway softly in a soothing flight of sheer weightlessness. I would be suspended in mid-air.
And I would forget everything. I would forget time. I would forget pain. I would forget the struggle.
I would just fly in a motionless sense of abandonment.
I would close my eyes and listen to that one single effortless moment.
SERENDIPITY
It’s not the first time that you’ll have found me, surrounded by the aftermath of my handy work, and yet looking strangely discontent.
You’d imagine that I’d be more than happy with my achievements – based on the sheer quantities of blood, guts and gore alone… But, if I’m honest, it’s really not enough.
You see, it’s just a little too transitory. I simply don’t have the luxury of lingering a while to enjoy the macabre show: That would be foolish and irresponsible.
And always, that same irritating voice in my head. “If only I had thought to bring a camera!”
TOM
No Regrets, Maybe One or Two
If I had to catalog all my galactic bad choices the mere index would take up a book shelf. But I guess the supreme “If only I had …” would have to have been following the siren’s call of Donald Henry Segretti. Though I didn’t end up in jail, so many had, I did become persona non grata in Republican circles. If only I had joined the merry band of Carl Rove I would have walked the hall of power like a god. And most likely become a major ass hole. Still it would have been one hell of a ride.
JEFFREY
If I Only had a Tank
by Jeffrey Fischer
Commuting in the DC metro area is a game with no good moves. Public transportation is a joke and driving any distance is both scary and an exercise in frustration. Oh, and parking in DC itself is eye-wateringly expensive.
If I only had a tank, the commute would improve. I’m sure of it. No one would cut me off on the highway – well, not more than once as the .50 caliber machine gun would remove the offender from the road. Once on the surface streets, I wouldn’t be the one worried about scrapes and dings. And you know where you park a tank? That’s right, anywhere you want to. Who cares if it burns 50 gallons of fuel each way and costs more than $8 million? We’ll be traveling in style!
JON
If Only…
By
Jon DeCles
If only I had jumped in the car and taken off when I saw her coming across the parking lot: but she looked so different; and Sociopaths are always charming. If I had let my brain uncover the horrible memories of damage to other couples… But Social Predators are graceful in their lies. In retrospect, I fell a second time into her web of surgical razors, this time the central victim rather than a secondary fool. She enticed me to dependency, then despondency, and then I found myself powerless, observing.
If only I had killed her then and there.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert clung to a tree branch forty feet above the school yard, hoping no one would look up and see him.
Naked, except for a loincloth made from a plastic grocery bag he wondered how he had allowed himself to be tricked into this situation.
No one did this at his last middle school. Why did he believe Roderick that everyone did it on their first day at this school?
“If only I had superpowers, I could fly away,” Billbert said, though he knew it was an empty wish. “Maybe I should jump. I can’t be embarrassed if I’m dead.”
DR. ALEX
Weekly Challenge for Feb 11th 2018 with the topic of “If only I had…”
by Dr. Alex
“I’m getting the band back together!” was my usual rally cry for the for the past month.
“Yes, yes, I know” was Seth’s usual reply.
Reviewing this week’s progress with Seth, “We have Alice set on maracas. Justin likes his high hat. Rachel on xylophone. Now, if only I had a kazoo player.”
“Seth! Really!? I didn’t know you knew how to play this whole time!”
Three weeks later, we were booked for a Thursday evening performance at the Tropicana.
Clearly, this had been some sort of a scheduling error, or a perhaps cruel joke by the departing events manager.
LAIEANNA
If only I had jumped when they all had. I would be soaring above in
the clouds with a pair of angel wings, the sound of my joyous laughter
ringing in the air. If only I had not been afraid. I didn’t have the
faith needed to follow the masses and blindly drop off the cliff. It
was insane. I tried to find someone who would side with me but I was
alone. Now, I’m alone, staring down at the pit of lava below as the
earth rumbles underneath me and I know I will be tossed into the
flames.
DUANE
If only I had…
Disneyland doesn’t have employees, they have cast members. Everyone from Goofy to that guy selling mouse ears are actors. Even the girl taking your ticket for the teacup ride has a back story.
If only I had fit the Mickey costume. I could have stood around waving and taking pictures with vacationing families and drunk college girls.
Instead, my character is a janitor. A pirate janitor. A pirate janitor with an eye for the ladies and an eye patch on the other eye. That eye used to be my eye for the ladies, but that’s a story for another time.
TURA
If only I had…
———
There was a knight of Arthur’s band
Who did great deeds by strength of hand
But no wise would he be content
Till Guinevere lay in his tent.
Disloyalty was his downfall
Without which he had had else all
“If only I had Guinevere”
Quoth he, “there’s nought else I hold dear.”
But all men know how that turned out
In Caxton’s book of Arthur’s Morte.
If Lancelot had not been false
Then things had not come to this pass.
But even in the courts of kings
Man’s fatal defect evil brings
And that’s why we can’t have nice things.
———
PLANET Z
Some people think that flu shots give you the flu.
For years, I’d get a flu shot, and feel bad afterwards.
So, this year, I didn’t get a flu shot.
And I got the flu. The real flu.
Not just feeling bad afterwards kind of feeling bad.
The real flu. The coughing, sneezing, vomiting, chills and fevers, shitting your guts out flu.
I crawl on the floor, covered in a blanket, leaving a trail of tissues and God knows what else.
Clutching the empty orange juice container to my aching chest, moaning “I’ll get one next year!” over and over.
The Governor
The governor was a sports fanatic.
He loved to go to all of the games.
Baseball, football, basketball… college and professional, it didn’t matter.
And when he went to the games, he was at the game as a fan, and not as the governor.
State business could wait for the game to finish.
This was fine for legislative duties, because that could wait.
But the prisons scheduled executions with the sports schedule in mind.
While the governor was enjoying the game, the executioner threw the switch.
People protested.
“They didn’t vote for me,” he told the press. “So, fuck ’em.”
Snickers and Blackie
When I was little, we had two dogs: Snickers and Blackie.
Instead of walking them, we’d let them out in the apple orchard that was behind the house, and usually they came back in on their own.
However, some times they’d chase rabbits or squirrels, and we had to call them back in.
This was fine when there weren’t many houses in our new subdivision, but as more houses were built, a black family took offense to what they thought we were shouting.
So, after that, we had to walk them on leashes. And only wore white sheets on Halloween.
Day of Atonement
On The Day Of Atonement, you’re supposed to beg forgiveness from all those you have wronged.
Me, I figure that anyone I wronged fucking deserved it, so why should I beg forgiveness? They should beg me. Especially if they don’t want me wronging them again. With my baseball bat.
Some people make it a real hassle to track them down, so I wait for right before The Day Of Atonement, and then I punch them.
Then, I beg forgiveness for punching them.
Or, for breaking their nose, when they try to punch back.
(I got a cousin who does noses.)
Dimes
They say that good ideas are a dime a dozen.
From the looks of what’s showing at the movie theaters, playing on TV, filling the bookstores, and streaming on the Internet, everybody’s given up on the good ideas and gone where the money is:
Bad ideas.
And the worst thing about bad ideas is that they inspire people to come up with even worse ideas, which them inspires ideas even worse than those.
In the end, we are surrounded, and we drown in a sea of bad ideas.
But I keep my pockets full of shiny dimes, just in case.
Temp job
When you think about it, the presidency is a temporary job.
Although you could say that it’s more like a contract job.
It lasts 4 years, but can be extended to 8 years if you get decent reviews, and enough people think there’s nobody else that can do it better.
Well, there’s the whole dying in office thing. Or if you quit for whatever reason. But they keep a temporary around to cover for that.
There’s a hell of a lot of perks to go with it, for certain.
But let’s start you off with this office assistant opening, okay?
Soup Balance
Every can of chicken noodle soup is a balance between chicken, noodles, and soup.
Too much chicken, and it’s just a can of meat.
Too many noodles, and it’s just a can of wet noodles.
Too much soup, and it’s just a can of broth.
For years, the scientists at the Campbell’s Soup Company experimented with the amount of chicken, noodles, and soup in their cans.
Until one day, they had the perfect balance.
“SUCCESS!” shouted the Chief Soupologist.
To celebrate, he had a bowl of soup.
Tomato soup. With grilled cheese sandwiches.
Because he couldn’t stand chicken noodle soup.