Author: R.

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:

• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Charlie
• Richard
• Serendipity
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Planet Z

MUNSI

The Human Brain
By Christopher Munroe

This sentence came out of my brain.

So did this one.

That’s weird, right? I mean, it’s just a lump of meat, maybe three pounds or so, yet everything we are and everything we’ll ever be is contained there. Just bobbing around, inside our skulls, behind our faces, a little scrunched-up looking thing from which we build an identity, from which we pull words, sentences, language, stories, ideas…

I mean, not necessarily good ideas.

This one, for example, doesn’t make a lot of sense, but ideas.

We don’t appreciate our brains enough, I think.

They do so much for us…

JEFFREY

5:15
by Jeffrey Fischer

Four fifty-seven p.m.: time to leave the office. Planning the evening commute required split-second timing. Four minutes to the garage, another two to exit the garage, 12 minutes on the surface streets, though this depended a bit on catching the lights just right, and onto the expressway by 5:15. Traffic was building; in another few minutes the road would be impassable. Leaving those three minutes before the hour made all the difference.

Five-fifteen: into the traffic flow, his job was now out of his mind. He punched several buttons and the opening sounds of Quadrophenia filled the car.

Moving in Stereo
by Jeffrey Fischer

I looked down at my body on the operating table. I had read about out-of-body experiences, but I never expected one myself. I watched the respirator move up and down, breathing for me as my body remained unconscious.

I was jolted back to reality by a high-pitched squeal. The monitors flashed an alert and medical personnel scurried to find and resolve the problem, to no avail. Well, that was it for me, I supposed. I was dead. Nothing more to see in this grim room, so I tried to leave. Uh-oh. With growing dismay, it began to sink in that I might be stuck in here for a long time.

CHARLIE

I have psoriasis. Consequently the internal ear is dry and itchy. Fish oil, Vaseline, goose grease, schmaltz, and other moisturizers don’t work. I am digging into my earholes frequently with old Popsicle sticks, paperclips, and twigs. Last Saturday, I was doing some excavation work on my earholes and I inadvertently sneezed and farted concurrently. Consequently, the Popsicle stick was rammed into my ear and I heard a loud pop and my right side went limp. I yanked the stick out, and some orangey, pink jelly covered the end of the stick. It was something out of my brain, I’m sure.

#2

It’s fun to open up your document, release your inhibitions, and let the words flow. The stories that come out of my brain each week often surprise and shock me. If I didn’t know me better, I’d say I was nuts. I am a thin, confused, M to F transgender individual these days, but I am holding on to my netherrod, hoping to find a high bidder when I’m ready for my lower surgery. They tell me I will have a lot left over when they do the surgery, so I’m putting an ad on Craig’s list for a buyer.

#3

He was yelling and pointing in front of Safeway. No one was there. He was out of his mind, or his brain, I suppose. He mumbled something about acid, and I offered help, so I approached him, walking backwards towards him, and sticking two pencils up my nose as I did. When I reached him, I spun around quickly and started singing “I am the Walrus, Goo goo g’ joob Goo Goo Goo g’ joob.” His eyes popped out of his head and he ran screaming into the bushes behind the store. I did my good deed for the day.

RICHARD

Zzzzzzzzzz

Have you ever had one of those nights when you just can’t sleep?

You lie there, thoughts constantly buzzing around your head, whilst you become ever more frustrated with your complete inability to get some sleep.

The more you try to empty your mind, the worse it is. You constantly find yourself recapping the day’s events… They fill your mind – a neverending distraction from the one thing you crave more than anything else…

The blessed relief of sleep!

Then, finally reaching your wit’s end, you sit up, sheets in complete disarray and desperately cry…

“Get out of my brain!”

SERENDIPITY

After the explosion, it was touch and go whether I’d live, but – thanks to a genius surgeon, and the wonders of modern medicine – I survived.

Of course, having half a pound of assorted shrapnel and metal shards pulled out of my brain, even by a genius surgeon, was always going to have some unforeseen consequences.

Nothing significant, just occasional mild insanity.

Personally, I think it’s been the making of me, and looking on the bright side, when the worst happens you can rest assured that it’s not going to bother me at all…

Although…

It might bother you!
—

LIZZIE

The roads were littered with metal scraps. The food was scarce. No one dared say a word. The real problem was none of this; it was the compulsory pea-sized contraption. Then, they went back home and all the brains on Earth were placed in suspended mode, our bio energy being sucked away, long-distance. When they returned for a check-up, I was part of the test sample. I hid, and jabbed my eye to get them out of my brain. I lost an eye but they never saw me again. More have done it too. We’ll get Earth back, one day.

TOM

Oh No!

Murray had a habit of saying the most unappropriated thing at the precisely the most optimum moment. “It just came out of his brain, “his sister Ann would say “It was like the tin-foil was just strengthening the signals from Planet Murray. No one wanted to sit next to Murray at a family funeral. Visits to sick relatives often ending with 911 calls. During his wedding to Laura there was brisk wagering on how long it would take him to fuck it up. To everyone’s surprise and loss Murray just stayed in his brain with the help of his heart

NORVAL JOE

The auditorium was too dark to determine the nature of the body between the rows of seats. Male, female, young, old, dead or alive.
Mickey climbed down from the seats and knelt by the unmoving body.
“Oooh, oooh? Are you okay?” he asked, pulling lightly on a strand of hair.
She groaned and shook her head, pulled herself to her knees, and onto one of the seats.
“I’m Mickey. Who are you and what happened?”
“I’m, um, shoot. I know it, but it slipped out of my brain.” She rubbed her head and pulled her hand away, covered with blood.

TURA

Out Of My Brain
———
After a long rehabilitation, I visited the scientific team to see the tumour the surgeon had cut out of my brain.

I’d volunteered for the experiment. The neuroma had to come out anyway, so I’d donated the tissue to the project. It had been grown to fill a tank dominating the room, surrounded by tubes and machines.

“Penrose was right about quantum neural computation,” said the project leader. “This thing thinks faster than anything before. We’ve just completed the speech and hearing interfaces.”

“You can talk to it? What does it say?”

“MO-O-O-O-RRE BRAIINNZZZ!!” replied the brain in the vat.

PLANET Z

Apple, Microsoft, Google, and Amazon formed a partnership for the ultimate online product.
mybrain dot com was a computer-human interface. It would allow instant learning, store memory backups, and so much more.
And they gave it away for free.
Government regulators went completely ape-shit over it.
Until the four companies declared war on anyone that opposed their efforts.
Millions of bureaucrats, protesters, and religious officials discovered their email and data had vanished.
The hypocrites among the opposition who used free mybrain units all died in their sleep.
Massive cerebral hemorrhages.
Everyone else instantly learned not to oppose the new masters.

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:

• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Serendipity
• Lizzie
• Norval Joe
• Tom
• Tura
• Planet Z

If you come up with a story on this topic after this post went up, feel free to send it in and I can add it to the site.

MUNSI

The Rave in the Cave
By Christopher Munroe

It’s an amazing name for an event, but in execution, two problems become apparent.

Firstly: Raving in an actual cave reminds people too much of the Matrix Sequels.

Second: I’m in my thirties, what the fuck am I even doing at a rave?

Nonetheless, the acoustics in the cave were amazing, and I figured with enough club drugs I’d enjoy myself regardless of the inappropriateness of my weekend plans.

Men in their thirties still party like nineteen-year-olds, after all!

We just pay for it in the morning.

And that, in a nutshell, is why I’m not coming into work today…

JEFFREY

Fallout Shelter
by Jeffrey Fischer

He told his wife that the apocalypse was near and that they needed to be prepared. She nodded and grunted what he took to be an assent – he had timed the request for a “Real Housewives” marathon so she wouldn’t pay much attention to him – and he ordered the supplies.

For the next few weeks, trucks arrived in the driveway, unloaded, and drove off. His wife paid little heed to the process until she saw the Budweiser truck pulling away. She ventured into the basement. Case after case of beer was piled high in one corner. He had furnished the cellar with a dozen reclining chairs, all facing a 72″ TV.

“This doesn’t look like a shelter,” she complained. “It looks more like a man cave that sucked up our retirement savings!”

“You ride out nuclear winter your way, and I’ll ride it out mine.”

Vintage Expedition
by Jeffrey Fischer

The spelunkers widened the gap and wedged themselves into the cave. They were excited to be the first humans to explore here. Cautiously, with miners’ lamps illuminating the way, they moved ever deeper into the mountain.

At last, the narrow passageway ended in an enormous cavern – that was filled with cases of beer and wine. One of the men finally found his voice. “My God, we’ve died and ended up in Heaven.”

“Actually,” said a prissy voice from some distance away,” you’re in the wine cellar of Maison Blanche, which is directly above us. And you’re trespassing. Unless you have a dinner reservation?”

RICHARD

Cave

Boggins could tell the owner of the voice was not amused. The creature laughed – a gurgling, oily, guttural sound that set the hobbit’s already tense nerves into a state of agitated panic.

A slimy, scratchy, slithering filled the cave and Boggins realised with horror that his unseen companion was drawing closer.

He had to get out of that cave!

In abject terror, he leaped for the cave entrance, however in his haste he completely misjudged his flight and crashed heavily – face first – into the unyielding stone of the cave’s mouth.

Gibbering quietly, he slipped gently into unconsciousness.

SERENDIPITY

They sealed up the entrance to the cave after the accident, declaring it too dangerous for recreational pursuits.

Four dead and no bodies recovered.

Four dead – that’s what they thought, but it was three dead and one survivor.

You have no idea what being sealed up in a cave for six months with only the decaying bodies of your friends for company does to you.

But I know exactly what it does to you.

And now that I’ve tunnelled my way back out, those who abandoned me are going to find out exactly what it does to you too!

LIZZIE

The growling coming from the cave was nothing compared to the fear they shared of ghosts. Emily, however, had a deep rooted curiosity about entities of a parallel dimension. The problem was that these entities enjoyed playing tricks on their mortal counterparts. One was imitating voices and that growling was exceptionally realistic indeed. When they stepped inside the cave to take a picture of the ghost, the flash showed them, for a fraction of a second, the chilling white teeth of a huge black bear. “Oh, so ghosts don’t exist after all,” said Emily disappointed with the insignificant furry problem.

NORVAL JOE

Mickey had a choice. He could search through each of the books or he could chase after Polecat. The latter seemed more productive.
The exit she had taken opened into short passage. At one side was another exit onto the street, on the other a door stood ajar to a small theater. Monkey Boy peeked into the assembly room. As dark as a cave he could see nothing, though his monkey senses picked up the sound of someone breathing.
Mickey slipped off his shoes and climbed along the backs of the seats. He leapt on a form laying between rows.

TOM

PreNeolithic Dwelling

Me happy. Me dry. Life good in cave. Fuckn cave good. Forest sucks. Damn animals. Mate likes cave. She decorating. Want mural. So I paint Fuckn animals. Ever paint in the dark. It’s a bitch. She hate mural. Fuck her. Me go hunt. Bear finds cave. Need new mate. Maybe new cave. Good idea. Bigger cave. Maybe sub leases. Neanderthals good. Bit slow. Good with children. Smell funny. Wait, I smell funny. Fuck we all smell funny. Cave coming along. New mate wants new mural. Same old story. Hunt and paint. Story of me life. Maybe paint bears. This time.

TURA

Cave
———
“Siri, where is the One Ring?”

“It is at the foot of the Cave of the Ancients, in the Lost Valley of the Kings, beyond the Mountains of Doom, across the Misty Seas. Giant scorpions scuttle through the Cave. The Valley is filled with Inextinguishable Fire. The Mountains walk and crush all intruders, and the Misty Seas cannot be navigated.”

“eBay, where is the One Ring?”

“It is being auctioned by sauron8645. The current price is 561 kilograms of Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Facebook, where is the One Ring?”

“That account has been locked for making public posts of images of basilisks.”

PLANET Z

I challenged my students to determine the true identity of Batman.
One student used Google Earth and traffic cameras to reveal that the Batmobile went back to a cave near Wayne Manor.
Another student matched DNA from a Joker-Batman fight to Bruce Wayne.
A third student found Wayne Enterprises patents on a bunch of Batman’s gear.
Finally, a fourth student traced the Batcomputer’s route through Wayne Manor’s Comcast router.
Truly brilliant. Best student’s I’ve had since I was released from Arkham and offered a teaching positions.
I also advise the school newspaper.
“Riddle me this, Bruce…” the headline will shout.