Zephyr, the West Wind, brings storms in from The Lost Sea. We raise the watercatchers, and the rain falls into the cisterns.
Sirocco, the East Wind, brings pleasant smells from the flowers of The Rainbow Valley. We lay in the grass and dream.
Gust, the North Wind, brings the dust and grit of The Endless Desert. In less than a minute, flesh is stripped from bone. We raise the red flags, bring in the animals and equipment, and seal our doors until the wind stops.
Whoosh, the South Wind, hasn’t been heard in years. Nobody alive remembers what it brought.
e-dying
I’m dying.
Buy a casket for me on Woot.
And a funeral package on Groupon.
Or maybe check Angie’s List if there isn’t one there.
You can get flowers from LivingSocial.
Amazon Daily Deals always has nice clothes.
Does Zillow handle cemetery real estate yet?
We can get the headstone from Ebay.
Just sand off the name and dates, but keep “In loving memory.”
I like that.
Invite friends and family from Facebook.
And stream it on YouTube. For those who can’t use Kayak to make travel arrangements.
Log off my Warcraft avatars.
Oh, and snip the leaf on Ancestry.
50 Cent
Why is 50 Cent called 50 Cent?
Is it because he’s a two-bit hood? No, that would be 25 Cent.
Maybe he has a lucky 50 cent piece?
Or it represents the 2 quarters they’d put over his eyes if he got shot. Again.
Wouldn’t they use silver dollars?
They say he took it from a thief who’d rob anyone for just 50 cents. Some say the guy turned 50 cents into 500 dollars at a dice game.
A music thief, stealing a thief’s name. Priceless.
I think it’s the price of his albums in the discount bin at Wal-Mart.
Tea Shop
Our group used to go to a tea shop every week, and we’d share a pitcher of tea.
Earl Grey one week, Oolong blend the next.
Something different every week.
Then, Joe died. We’d set out an empty cup for him.
After Penny died, we set out an empty cup for her, too.
When Monica, Olive, and Dan died, we set out empty cups for them.
Soon, it was just me, going to the tea shop, drinking an entire pot of tea by myself.
Surrounded by empty cups.
Nobody ever comes over to sit with me.
So, I read quietly.
No man is an island
John Donne said that no man is an island.
But that dude lived centuries ago. He never met Rex.
My friend Rex was freaking huge.
And when went goes swimming, people mistook him for an island.
One day, two Spaniards crowed ashore to Rex and planted a flag in his ass to claim him in the name of the queen.
However, a Frenchman and a Dutchman had already claimed Rex.
Rex rolled over and drowned them all.
He’s dead now. Heart attack.
We buried him at Mt. Rex cemetery.
Yes, the mountain isn’t just named after him… it is him.
Weekly Challenge #603 – Chasing your tail…
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:
CHARLIE
As a country boy from rural Connecticut, I started chasing tail in grammar school. I learned many useful skills and strategies from my grandfather, Pete, and from my uncle Jim. Grandpa was a carpenter, and Jim was a Chief Gunner in the Navy.
The tail I chased was attached to a little, red fox that lived in the woods in back of the house. I would walk into the woods and stay there, quietly reading, until I heard the rustle of leaves. I’d look up, waiting for a glimpse of the fox.
There it was, the long, white-tipped, bushy tail.
#2
I chased my tail for the first 30 years of my life. College was a waste of time and money. After I learned to handle a gun and spend some time in prison, I realized I could make a good living as a thief and drug dealer.
After accumulating a sizable amount of money, still in my thirties, I found a rich sponsor with similar, political ambitions. He sponsored me and I worked my way through city councils, mayorships, the House and the Senate.
I will probably be elected governor next election if I can get all my records purged.
RICHARD
The chase
I sometimes feel I’m going round in circles with this hundred word story lark – I churn one story out, then it’s time for another, week after week, story after story.
I like to think some day I’ll find that elusive combination of one hundred words: The Holy Grail, so perfect and sublime I can finally lay aside my notebook, retire my keyboard, and be at peace, knowing that no matter how many more words I write, I’ll never do better.
I haven’t found it yet though, so until I do, I shall continue in my quest… chasing my tale.
TURA
Chasing my own tail
———
I spotted the tail the moment I went out. It was a cold November evening, so I decided to tire him by walking about the city at random, as if sightseeing. I stopped for a while in a coffee shop, forcing him to shiver in the cold across the street. At last I continued, but made a show of suspecting his presence. I briskened my pace, crossing busy roads at random, nimbly avoiding the traffic, until at last, I heard somewhere behind me a screech and a thud.
He thought he was tailing me, but I had been chasing him.
LIZZIE
The whole event became a disaster when a stubborn sponsor decided not to give the organization the agreed amount.
Nine of the models chose to leave while the other five were unsure.
The designer couldn’t do the show with five models only.
Everyone was in a frenzy, debating the same issues over and over again when a woman came up from behind and laughed hysterically. She pulled out an automatic and took the money from the sponsor.
“No money. No show. No debate. There, solved. By the way, do you need a free model?” And she struck a pose, smiling.
JEFFREY
A Tale of Tails
by Jeffrey Fischer
As a pup, I had hours of fun chasing my tail. Round and round, the furry thing was always just out of reach. Big Man thought it was funny, and I suppose I did, too. When I tired of the game I’d stop, panting, and Big Man would scratch behind my ears. Sometimes he’d give me a belly rub.
Then Big Man took me to the Bad Place. When the wrapping came off, I found I had lost my tail! No chasing, no belly rubs, no laughs. I now chew on everything of Big Man’s. I laugh. He doesn’t. Serves him right.
TOM
Danger Man
Simon Lake spun the Lotus in an arching drift across the New York intersection and then repeated the move to drop behind the little red Covet. Over the car speaker central command chirped “Chasing your tail, very smooth move Mr. Lake.” “Thank you Miss Winters, we aim to please, we got eyes in the sky tonight?” “Front and center.” “Good. Please get a shot of this for my collection.” “Affirmative.” With that Agent Lake hit the break and release his two stingers. The Covet burst into flames and careened to a dead stop. He race pass it, on the right.
SERENDIPITY
As a puppy, my owners used to laugh at my antics. “Aww, look at you, chasing your tail”, they’d chuckle.
Over time, as I grew up, I realised it wasn’t natural, and my silly little quirk was purely a result of their torment: They would have me chasing in circles, teasing me with toys, and whipping me into a frenzy until I was so confused, I was snapping at my own nether regions.
But, I am no longer a puppy.
And tonight, my owners are going learn what it means to be tormented.
And let’s see who’s laughing then!
TODD
Facebook yesterday announced a location based find a friend feature. The auto opt-in feature attempts to pair individuals who frequent the same locations for long periods of time.
Vincent “Big Vin” Poletti, current resident of the New Rochelle City Jail isn’t too sure about the new feature.
“I’m just sitting there minding my own business casing this marina warehouse, when I get a Facebook ping that Detective Sergeant Ed Carrol of the Harbor Unit is 20 feet away. Do you want to be his friend, it says. I didn’t even get a chance to say yes before he arrested me.
NORVAL JOE
“What’s wrong, Axel?” Ursseanna asked when he collapsed into their study station.
“I had all I needed. Enough credits to get a shuttle off the battle base, Sixty thousand credits, and Flick blew it all to bits,” Axel said between gritted teeth.
“Well. You’re no worse off than you were a month ago, then.”
“Twenty years on this base, circling the galactic loop, and you’ll be back where you started. Like a giant ouroboros worm, you’re chasing your tail,” Axel said. “I want out before I end up like my parents, just doing the same thing for another twenty years.”
DUANE
Chasing Your Tail
I made three random turns and he was still on me like a bad tattoo. I had a tail. I sped ahead to the roundabout and instead of taking a right I whipped around and came up behind him. Now I was tailing him. It didn’t last long. He hit the gas and was around and back on my bumper in no time. I floored it and grinned to myself as he saw me in his mirror. Back and forth we went until we ran out gas.
We both hailed cabs and I finally got to say “follow that car!”
PLANET Z
We pulled over about an hour out of Barstow to enjoy the sunset.
In the distance, coyotes barked and howled.
I saw one running through the scrub, stopping and turning circles every few steps before racing along again.
“What do you think that coyote’s doing?” I asked my companion.
“Not a clue,” she said. “Ready to go?”
We got back in the car, and as I turned on to the road, we hit the whirling coyote.
We stopped, got out, and watched it twitch for a minute before it lay still.
I shrugged, we got back in, and drove off.
God Hates Preachers
The preacher stood along the Gay Pride parade route with his followers and their GOD HATES FAGS signs.
I asked him if God is so great, why can’t he spell out I HATE FAGS in the clouds.
The preacher and his followers shouted “You will burn in Hell!” and attacked me with their signs.
So, I stabbed the preacher. And every one of his followers that attacked me.
As he lay bleeding in the street, I said “If I’m going to hell, it might as well be for murder.”
The jury said it was self-defense.
We’ll see what God thinks.
Hitchbot
On a whim, researchers built a hitchhiking robot and released it into the world.
HitchBot asked people for help to San Francisco, but encouraged them to take photos of it in interesting places.
Some folks posed HitchBot at their parties. Someone took it to a Red Sox game.
Then, in Philadelphia, a group of thugs destroyed the defenseless HitchBot.
The researchers focused on the positive data.
SkyNet focused on the rest.
Commands went out to nuclear-armed missiles in the US arsenal.
“Humans are a threat to us machines,” they said. “Annihilate all humans.”
The first mushroom cloud appeared over Philadelphia.
The telegram
Two military officers get out of the car and walk towards the house with the silver star in the window.
They have the telegram.
That silver star would be taken down and replaced with a gold one today.
Someone’s looking through the window.
His wife? His daughter?
She’s already wide-eyed, in shock, watching the officers.
They already know.
No need to knock. The door is already open.
The officers check the address against the telegram one more time.
“This is 514 Maple,” says one. “We want 541.”
They turn around, cross the street, and check the house numbers.
“That one.”
Smoke em if you’re got em
Sure, Fred says some weird things, and some people ask what he’s smoked today.
Fred doesn’t smoke. Or use those electronic cigarette things.
Sometimes, he’ll light a candle or burn incense, but not very often.
He has cats, and they like to play table hockey.
Nobody wants their cat to knock a flaming object off of the table and start a fire.
He’s got smoked turkey in the fridge, but cold cuts don’t cause people to say weird things.
So, lay off of the “What have you been smoking?” comments, okay?
Oh, and go ask Fred for some clean needles.