Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Four, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was rain.
And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:
- Tom
- Thomas
- Zackmann
- Shruti
- Bonchance and Sevi
- Rails Bailey
- Serendipidy Haven
- Pam B.
- Munsi
- Rich Palmer
- Lizzie
- Tura
- Snigdha N.
- Guy David
- Ace
- Steven the Nuclear Man
- RedGoddess
- Cliff – Uncle Monster
- Dionysus Clowes
- Danny Dwyer
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:
TOM
It seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s likely they’ll put that on my tombstone. After all we were in Hawaii and the hike/climb to the top of the volcano was rated gentle to moderate. How many chances do you get to go to the rainiest point on the planet? The first 90% was more a fire road. Now the last bit was as bit more tricky. First rocks, then wet rocks, and finally like sitting inside a vaporizer. Just before reaching the top a pair of slime covered hikers passed.
THOMAS
In nearby Forks, Washington, the rain is measured in feet. The average about ten feet a year. Folks there are moldy and smell like damp dog fur. The people are plain, unassuming, country folk that work in lumber and the nearby corrections center. They also pick the wood’s floor clean of morel mushrooms. Forks is the wettest place in the United States. Flooding is so common there, many new homes are built on stilts, and they are all made in such a way, that they can cast off and float, uncoupling quickly from their utilities with special connectors and fasteners.
The game rained out. When it comes to sports, Fran Lebowitz said that she was not particularly interested. Generally speaking, she looked upon them as dangerous and tiring activities performed by people with whom she shared nothing except the right to trial by jury. I agree. The cancelled game was no loss to me, but a big disappointment to the gang at the tavern. They got together to buy combustibles, and burned down the old coffee shop, next door. At this time of day, they were drunk, and they had to find another diversion for the rest of the weekend.
When it rains, it pours. A spate of bad luck put Cameron in a funk. He failed his bar exam for the third time, with an even lower score, and his encounter with Jezabeth–by talking about himself through the date, and texting while she tried to make conversation. He made up his mind that blind dates and dating services were bunk. They took time away from his drinking and telephone conversations. Cameron failed his second speed date by getting to the restaurant early and drinking so much wine that he dozed off twice as the waitress took their order.
ZACKMANN
On a rainy day My teacher Corky, yes this was in tech school therefore many teachers had first names, told me how he was shorter than he should be because he grew up in Minnesota and three fourths of the time he walked with his head down to avoid the rain, sleet, and snow.
This somewhat confused me since I grew up in Minnesota too and grew to almost six feet tall.
Later, I found out that my former teacher was really a very tall elf who came to our realm to study science since his world was losing magic.
SHRUTI
The Dragon Slayer
The mud had turned to slush and the town was still far away. The dragon’s head was getting heavier by the minute.
He would need a change of clothes before he presented himself in the king’s court. He was drenched down to his underwear.
Like all good fairytales, the king had promised him farmlands and the choice of any girl in the kingdom to be his wife.
This would prove to them why his books were more precious than swords and gold.
After all, the 74 royal knights before him hadn’t figured that dragon’s couldn’t breathe fire in the rains.”
Hope you like it! My other stories can be read at the link below
BONCHANCE AND SEVI
After a grand performance to great ovations, Clumsy the Clown emptied his flask of scotch into Pablo’s water dish.
Faint memories of hitching a ride, in the rain, on a truck full of chickens, rolling around in feathers.
He awoke in a strange town near a fire hydrant, covered in feathers.
His head hurt. Pablo felt awful. No more scotch for him, he thought as he drifted back to sleep.
A few hours later, a vision appeared in front of him.
Espi, his best friend who had moved miles away, was looking disapprovingly down at him and shaking her head.
RAILS
Deep in the recess of my mind, where the dust gathers in silent piles, where distant memories evade the light and refuse to come forth to be relived lives a silent corner, where all the horrors hide.
Its darker than the deepest coal mine, its silent, a place where even I dare not tread. Boxes of Horrific memories are stacked, each one sealed, never to be opened.
As time passes more dust gathers, burying the horrors of a life lived.
The thunderstorms of my mind cannot wash away those horrors, the seals prevent cleansing rain entering the dark haunting places.
SERENDIPIDY
It courses down my face, soaking me through; clothes clinging to my skin.
The cold rain rouses me, causing me to shiver, to remember who I am and how I came to be here.
Both the feeling and the thoughts are deeply unpleasant.
Yet the relentless rain cleanses and purifies me – washing away the horror of what I have done.
Through rain-streaked vision, I watch each ruby drop fall from the tip of the knife, tainting the swirling eddies at my feet, then swept away into darkness, like the lives of my victims.
Revitalised, I return to my task.
PAM
Jen leaned back in her office chair glancing out the window at the rain running in the gutter. Sure enough, it was falling so hard it was only a matter of time before . . . minutes later, she was being led to a basement by a woman who was definitely not happy. The Roto-Rooter guy was already there – a guy she’d known all her life. He had dated her best friend. Funny how one day you’re young and out causing trouble on a Saturday night and next thing you know you’re middle aged and standing in the middle of sewage.
Jack took a drag on his cigarette as he walked up. “Hey, some rain last night, huh?” He glanced out over the basin, “It was so bad, looks like most people stayed home and had some fun.” Joe followed Jack’s gaze over the tank. Hundreds of rubbers bobbed up and down blown up like balloons among all the bubbles on top of the aeration bay.
“Yeah, damn rubbers. Do ya think people ever consider what happens to em after flushing em down the toilet?”
“Nah, are you kidding?! Come on – I’m hungry, let’s go eat lunch.”
MUNSI
Milli Vanilli sang that you should blame things on the rain.
I’d thought this was a cop-out, a way of avoiding responsibility.
But as I’ve grown, I’ve realized they’re right. Some things in life are beyond your control, they happen TO you, not because of you.
And at times like that, the best you can do is blame it on the rain and hope for better next time.
Though I can’t help wondering…
Stripped of their Grammy, tour cancelled, Milli Vanilli were the laughingstock of the music industry. A punchline, forevermore.
On that day, who or what did they blame?
RICH
He heard them that day and took their command to heart.
From the time he was old enough to be enlightened to the social structure he worked to establish his position. Moving from his humble beginnings as a lowly serf to the time when he ruled all he surveyed he was able to establish his position in the hierarchy. He commanded armies, debated politicians, collected taxes and heard the platitudes of his court.
One morning as he rose from slumber he heard his queen from the window exclaim, “Sigh. Rain again.” It was then that he realized his earlier misunderstanding.
LIZZIE
Drip, drip. It was difficult to walk on one leg. Fortunately Lord Heavenly had chopped John’s leg, not his life. John crossed the patio and searched for the gold coin. It was not under the vegetable cart or the empty wine barrels in front of Wimpey’s den. He searched everywhere. He would buy a nice sword, he thought, lusting for the gold. Soaked and impatient, he suddenly slipped and fell against an abandoned sickle. It dropped violently. Well, now he had done it, John thought. Drip. And he didn’t even remember anymore why Lord Heavenly had chopped his other leg.
TURA
God, what was I supposed to do with the giant lizards? No way would they fit on board. And about the unicorns, sorry, but after forty days and forty nights we’d run out of food. Tasted of horse, if you want to know. You ask me, we’re better off without. Wicked temper and a big dagger on their heads.
If you want them, why don’t you just make some more? You can’t, can you? Well, well, how are the mighty fallen. Created all of this in six days and now you can’t do any more than piss on us all.
SNIGDHA NAUTIYAL
The strain of a cloudy day was beginning to take its toll on him.
A headache wandered along his mind’s edges; it was terrible to be walking down the street at this godawful early morning hour, under the vestiges of last night’s abundant alcoholic intoxication.
He made his way over to his favourite tea-stall; climbed onto the bench in his regular corner. The little boy who acted as server there brought him a cup of weak, thinly composed tea with biscuits.
Close by, a group of people played carom. It was that sort of day.
Soon, it began to rain.
GUY DAVID
The last of the Porcupine Caribou waded through the snow. The hunter pushed on, already thinking about the money this stuffed animal would bring him. He could see it in the distance, a brownish white spot on the spot white snow. He just had to get closer, within shooting range. He moved stealthily and quietly until he could almost smell the prey. Suddenly, the reindeer looked up, his eyes intelligent and sad. A shot was heard and the hunter fell dead to the snow. The protector smiled, walked to his beloved pet and gave it a rubbing behind the ear.
AUSTIN
Droplets of water plinked off the cold windows of my house. A knock on the door gave reason for father to answer. As the door swung open, a man humbly asked for shelter. Being Christians, we couldn’t say no. He stayed in my room. I slept in the basement, it’s door had a cross painted with lambs blood, so to speak, and the stranger was the angel of death. That night, the stranger stumbled silently from room to room. Each time, his knife became bloodier. My mission “given” to the man was complete. I could eat my cookies in peace.
STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN
My mother’s hand slicked back my wet hair. I fidgeted in the damp polyester suit. “Rain is when God is crying,” she told me, as I watched my father’s casket lowered into the ground. My tears mingled with God’s.
Now I watch from outside the League’s satellite. I watch the normals slaughter each other. The suited UN politicians argue whether to chastise genocide. The spandex-suited heroes of the League debate whether to intervene at all. My tears boil away in vacuum before they join the rain.
Enough tears.
My tears may not reach the Earth’s surface.
My heat vision will.
REDGODDESS
April triggers more than pouring rain in the city. There is a flurry of work projects and birthday celebrations, including Lola’s. She purposely doesn’t share her birth date unless someone asks directly. She does not like surprise parties. Today, she visits a French bakery for her favorite hotel guest. Standing in front of the glass counter, Lola’s eyes widen at the sight of the sugar painted wonders. A double layered velvet chocolate cake suits her dessert loving guest so perfectly. As the cashier hands her the boxed cake, Lola suddenly realizes, she did not eat cake on her last birthday.
CLIFF
Sheets. Buckets. Cats and dogs. There are a thousand terms for rain. It can come in the light annoying mist that turns your windshield translucent. It can come in huge driving drops that batter you as you dash from car to house. There’s the needle sharp rain that penetrates no matter how tight you pull your coat. And of course, there’s the gentle soaking rain that feeds the ground and grows the crops. I remember all of them. Back when we had rain. And crops. Back before the sky burned and the ground died. Back when we still had hope.
DIONYSUS
The rain shower approached through the wood with a slight rustle of leaves, some huge but invisible beast. Darkness — a second primeval power — had fallen around the two children, wrapping them in its thick embrace. The mysterious beast and night approaching they huddled together beneath the fallen tree, each clinging more tightly to the small security of the other. The dense coagulating smell of rot held them immobile, and with each drop from the gaping maw they trembled. The older one, the girl, whispered childish, incomprehensible syllables, which did not soothe. The dark chthonic drops pulled them, always down, into the earth.
DANNY
A group of friends steal the sneaker off a drunk friend, jumping on a subway train, abandoning him on the platform miles away from his home. Drunk, he stumbles right off the platform onto the tracks, falling onto the 3rd rail, where he is electrocuted to death. His friends return home to his mother with the sneaker they stole from him, stating he refused to leave the platform, never revealing the prank they pulled. 3 days later, after searching for her son, Mom learns the truth, and swears to rain hell on the friends whose actions led to his grizzly death.
NORVAL JOE
Crouched in the edge of the pine forest the company peered across cultivated fields at the walls of the city.
Wind blew at their backs and shook the tops of the tall trees. Pine needles dropped on them like rain.
“Why are we hiding and watching the city? Why don’t we just go in?” Owen whispered to the ranger.
“Something’s wrong, Owen. There should be guards walking the walls,” Traveler said.
The wind shifted directions and blew at them from the city. A stench of rotted flesh overwhelmed the company. Only the half-goblin was unaffected.
“Smells like dinnertime,” Spleen hissed.
PLANET Z
Heat shielding tiles came loose from the space shuttle, causing the vehicle to burn up and break apart on re-entry.
Pieces rained down over Texas, and investigators hunted down as many of them as they could.
One piece landed in a lake, and it was found after the drought caused the water level to shrink.
The pieces were reassembled to determine the cause of the failure.
Which, as I said before, was due to the failure of heat shielding tiles.
We glued the thing together, and then shipped it to New York instead of sending one of the remaining shuttles.
