Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Thirty-One, 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… was…. um…
It’s Stand!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Tom
The carriage pulled to an abrupt stop at the apex of ford’s passage.
In leather and lace stood Amanda Wainwright two pistols drawn
At the coachmen head.
“Stand and Deliver” she bellowed.
Out of the coach tumbled Percy Lambton followed cautiously by
Bishop Denton Fallow and gracefully Lady Gordon
“Pray what is the meaning of this assault on mother church” churled the bishop
“To lighten your purse and bring you close to our savior.”
Amanda led a shot lose and bishop toppled into Percy’s lap
Quickly Lady Gordon scoped up the bishop’s purse and swung
behind the highway woman. Off they road.
Katwood92
People are greedy, especially for food. If it’s unguarded for even a moment, someone takes it. This happened to me. So I took a stand. Now, I leave food out intentionally. But this food has poison in it. Not enough to make them immediately sick, but enough to kill. If they make it to the emergency room, the doctors can’t trace it. Who admits to stealing? I watch sometimes, follow them for a bit, mentally laughing as they sicken. If I keep up for long enough, there will be no more greedy people left, here anyway. Wouldn’t that be great?
Zackmann
Is this the end of the line? Do you have Internet? And you are still here? Do you like
standing in line? No, I have been banking on line for several years myself. I pay everything
online even charities and my children’s allowances. I even do most of my shopping online.
You may go ahead of me. I actually do not really have any banking to do. I am here because the
lines are really long on a Friday that falls near the first or fifteenth and now that the children are
back in school, I am really lonely.
Steven
His fist thwacks into me, a sharp crack echoing off the restroom’s
metal walls. A sharp sunburst of pain as bones snap, a wet thud from
tile meeting my flesh.
His boot slams into my ribs. I am airborne in a spinning sprawling
shallow arc back to the ground. My blood spatters an abstract
painting on the porcelain.
This would be cool in a movie.
I lay there for a moment. He turns to leave.
My hand grabs his ankle, draws him crashing to the ground. I rise
over his half-conscious body.
“Brains,” I say.
And then I feast.
TJ
The sentry post is staffed, not manned,
Grimly there three sentries stand
Exchaging glances, no one moves
Distantly a horse’s hooves
And night bird’s shrieking breaks the night
A steady dripping adding fright
A fourth sentry clutches his neck and yelps
Wild eyes entreat his friends for help
They dare not move, lest raptor’s claws
Close suddenly beneath their jaws
The darkened lab, the crummy pay,
Their wish their lives not end that way
It seemed to object to light and sound
It’s somewhere on the ceiling now
They dare not move, their post unmanned
Where three remaining sentries stand.
Norval Joe
The rest of the kids on the block had typical stands. Jamahl sold lemonade. Shaniqua sold koolade. Baldacero thought he was outside the box selling necklaces made from soda can pull tabs.
Marty was different, he sold monkeys.
All the other kids lost interest and closed up.
Marty saved and waited. When the economy went bad he bought out the kid around the corner that sold chimpanzees. Eventually, he took over the lemurs and the great apes on 42nd street.
“I deal in primates,” he’d say if asked what he did.
He thought being in the monkey business sounded silly.
Planet Z
Every Sunday, I stop by a fruit stand on the way to church and pick up some oranges.
Last week, there was no fruit stand along the road.
So, I went to the grocery store.
They weren’t as good, and they cost twice as much.
This week, still no sign of the fruit stand.
Maybe he got driven off by the food inspectors, or maybe immigration?
After church, when I got home, I threw the oranges in the pool and watched them float around.
“Much better,” I said. “But not as good as the ones from the fruit stand.”