Category: Weekly Challenge

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
• Tom
• Serendipity
• Marv
• Lizzie
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

MUNSI

On Royal Headwear
By Christopher Munroe

I’m no king, but I own a crown.

Because it’s 2016, crowns are readily available for purchase, I wanted one and fuck you, that’s why.

I’ll never lead a nation, but a crown’s something I could make happen, and I deserve to have things that bring me joy.

So I bought it.

Now I own it.

And when I feel down and need to be picked up, I take it out and put it on, and wearing it does make me feel a little better.

And I’ll tell you right now, for the record: I absolutely fucking crush that crown.

JEFFREY

Strategy
by Jeffrey Fischer

The Devil, to stave off boredom, wanted new ways to take souls. He turned to chess. So many suckers thought they had skill at the game. He roamed the boards in Central Park, challenging the players.

Clyde looked like just another homeless black man with a substance-abuse problem. But Clyde had studied the game for years and readily accepted the Devil’s challenge, on one condition: one move per day. The Devil agreed.

Clyde had a plan. When he castled, protecting his king in a corner, the Devil understood this time he was the sucker. The game was a draw, playing out one day at a time. That was over 50 years ago, and Clyde is still going strong. And yes, the Devil is bored.

Looking Back
by Jeffrey Fischer

For eons, Elvis found the afterlife fascinating, but even infinite variety dulls eventually. He decided to find out how he was remembered on Earth. Michael Jackson begged him not to look, but the King could never think of Michael as anything but the kid singer in the Jackson 5.

On the whole, Elvis was happy how things turned out: millions of record sales, Graceland was a shrine to his legacy, and even the imitators in rhinestone-studded jumpsuits were somehow endearing.

But… peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Who in his right mind would think Elvis actually liked that crap? Only Yankees, who thought a Southern boy, no matter how rich, could have no decent palate. He slapped those ingredients together once, when he nothing better in the house. Only a quart of whiskey made the sticky mess go down.

RICHARD

#1 – The Gospel According to Norman: The wise king

There was once a wise king.

His wisdom and fairness was famed throughout the kingdom and people would come from far and wide seeking his guidance on disputes of every kind. The king’s days were long, but the people prospered.

It came to pass that two women came to the court, bringing with them a baby. Both claimed the child was theirs and neither would relent, and so it fell to the king to adjudicate.

Sighing, the king called for his sword and, as the onlookers gasped in horror, fell upon it and died.

He just couldn’t take the pressure.

#2 – King Size

I don’t like to complain about old-fashioned measurements, but there’s a lot to be said for standardisation.

Whilst you lucky folks in the rest of the world get to stuff yourselves to the point of bursting on your king size burger, fries, and enormous sodas, I barely have enough to sate my hunger.

You lounge away the nights in your king size beds, whilst I freeze in a bed that’s simply not big enough.

In fact, everything described as ‘king size’ around these parts is tiny in comparison.

That’s the problem when your king is a twelve-inch ruler!

TOM

King For A Day

Timmy wasn’t the sharpest tools in the shed. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he entered the King for a Day Contest. “What the heck,” he said. Winning hands down the good subjects of Licktenrubal looked forward to the day after King Timmy’s rein, preparing for a good laugh at his expense. Oddly on coronation day Timmy was nowhere to be found. Soldiers, sheriffs, and the greater number of Lintenrubians scoured the countryside searching for Timmy. Tired and dejected they returned to the castle to find the Royal Treasury looted. Seems Timmy wasn’t as dim as he seemed.

The Day I Didn’t Meet the King

It does not take much raw material for the fates to weave the smallest of lives into the backdrop of history. A Jesuit father ends up in New France in the 1600s. He rows his canoe through the swap that will become the future site of the 2nd city. The civil leaders of the city name a park in his honor. Since the name of the park is the same as my family’s name we would often picnic there. In Aug 1966 the Rev King marched through the park as I watched the hate rise. He looked pretty damn scared

In Plain Sight
For those who are fond of riddles I have the following. A man who was born a king but never abdicated a crown to become President of the United States. Sounds pretty Da Vinci Code: a Pope interred. All whimmly wobbly, which is one hint to his identity. He sat in judgement on a bullet which defied the laws of physics. Here’s a second: He weathered the attack of two assassins. But not that of his political rival, which is your third. When you’ve secured his name please post it to the comment area. You are a king among men

SERENDIPITY

Once a king, always a king, they say – but not if I have anything to do with it.

You may be a big shot in your country: Prime minister, president, dictator, prince or queen – to me, you’re just another day’s work.

I don’t care who you are, or how important you may be, as long as I’m paid the going rate, you’re a target, and I will bring you down to size using whatever means I have.

Poison, bullet, blade or bludgeon – your status won’t help.

You’ll die.

And I’ll live…

Once an assassin, always an assassin!

MARV

The King Is Dead

The King is dead, long live the King!

The Chamberlin made the official royal announcement in a loud and clear voice to members of the royal court of the pasting of long reigning King John Quincy Marcus IV and of Prince Charles becoming King Charles William David VIII.

As he ascended to the throne, King Charles became acknowledged absolute ruler of 20 million subjects in the tiny county of Lilliput.

What a week it has been for now King Charles, beginning on Monday he went to his first day of kindergarten and then, only three days later, He’s the King.

LIZZIE

The kids made fun of Bernie whenever he said “I’m a King.”
What he meant was he belonged to the old local King family, although he wasn’t called “King”.
Bernie was, however, proud of his heritage and no one would convince him otherwise.
Fresh out of College, a distant cousin called Harold King introduced him to the right people.
When Bernie came back for his high-school reunion, the kids sure didn’t make fun of him when he said “I’m a king!”
He had married into a European royal family and had become king, only in title, but still a king.

MORVAL JOE

Monkey Boy rounded the penguin pool, shot past the tiger pen, hurried out the service gate and onto the main boulevard through the east side of his city. Two thoughts raced through his head as he dodged pedestrians and ginkgo trees spaced every twenty feet in the sidewalk: What did Pole Cat and her crew want from him, and how long would it take for them to catch up with him?
He ducked through the back door of the Chicken King restaurant and slipped into the storage room.
A woman turned around and shouted, “Mickey. You’re late for your shift.”

PLANET Z

You probably know about Queen Latifah, the soul singer and actress, but was there ever a King Latifah?
Yes. Yes, there was.
But as with Latifahs, the queen bites the king’s head off after mating.
No, Queen Latifah doesn’t have any kids. Sadly, the mating was unsuccessful.
And even if she did have kids, she’d just have eaten them, right?
Except for one, who she’d raise as her princess.
Only upon her death would the princess be allowed to consume the royal jelly necessary to transform her into the next Queen.
But, let’s face it: She’d probably get eaten first.

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
• Tom
• Aubrey
• Serendipity
• Lizzie
• Marv
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Planet Z

MUNSI

Your Guide
By Christopher Munroe

Let your conscience be your guide…

Unless you’re in a foreign country in which case, I can’t stress this enough, hire an actual guide.

Guides know the local spots you’d want to see, the best destinations, best restaurants, wherever you go guides can help you get the most out of your trip.

Plus, they’ll keep you from getting lost. And, if you’ve travelled somewhere where you don’t speak the language, that’s not inconsiderable.

So hire a guide and don’t skimp on the price. The expense is worth it.

And when it comes to tipping: Let your conscience be your guide…

JEFFREY

Human Kindness
by Jeffrey Fischer

I watched the blind man use his cane to tap his way along the subway platform. He had trouble finding the escalator, so two young men helped guide him to the right spot. I followed the trio as they made their way into the station. The men helped their new friend through the station and into the bus depot.

I entered the depot just in time to hear the blind man thank the men and ask to be pointed toward the ticket counter. My colleagues moved in closely, screening the blind man from any prying eyes, while I robbed the man of his wallet and cell phone.

It’s so great helping the blind: you’re confident that the police won’t have a description of the robbers.

The Great American Novel
by Jeffrey Fischer

John had quit his job to write the Great American Novel that he knew lived inside him. He laid out a dozen sharpened pencils, unpacked a ream of paper, and was ready to start. He guided a sheet of paper into his Selectric – no word processor for him, only classic technology! – and sat until inspiration struck.

Three hours later, he reviewed his work: a handful of incoherent nouns and verbs, sometimes both in the same sentence, with the occasional random adjective. Word count: 100. He concluded that perhaps the novel was not his metier. He would instead write the Great American Drabble.

RICHARD

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Richard ‘
AttachmentsMar 8 (5 days ago)

to me
Hi Laurence,

Here we go again, another week, another story – still, looking on the bright side, that’s one less to do before the ultimate… erm, never mind.

Topic – ‘Ultimate’

Catch up with you at the weekend.

Regards,
Richard

The Gospel According to Norman: The Law and Love

You have heard it said The Law is your guide: Those who turn their back on the Law are cursed, but I tell you there is a better way.

The Law is good, but the enlightened should let love be their guide.

For who can doubt that whatever is pursued in love is good and blessed?

So, I tell you, follow love’s guidance and you’ll prosper… Whether love for your wife, your concubine, money and riches, or love for your neighbour’s ass – pursue it with all your heart, and all your might, no matter what the Law may say!

TOM

Paradiso

Timmy assembled his vision quest flight crew. A ceremonial magician, a Mayan shaman, and the personal secretary to the Dali Lama. His UCLA organic chemistry professor had brewed up a batch of peyote infused LSD. On Day Three his spirit guide appeared. A 12 foot crimson dragonfly named Bruce. “What do you seek?” hissed the dragon. “The edge of the vail.” Bruce’s wings rent the vail to reveal the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. “What is your name?” She drew her sword across the sand and wrote “Beatrice” “OH shit,” said Timmy and follow her into the mist.

One Less Dick

Morty hated each and every corporate retreat. Most of all he detested the trust building exercises. He squirted lighter fluid during the fire walk. Drop his partner in the backward pitch. When given the r/d encryption key he traded it for half a pack of cigarettes. He calculated his odds of being voted off the island as excellent. But the vote didn’t turn out as planned. Blind folded and cuffed Loraine of accounting guided him to the grassy knolled. The sting of the first scorpion trigger panic. Guide by the warmth of the sun he ran. Right off the cliff.

We Who Stand and Bark Also Serve
Barney was a guide dog. He was pretty good guide dog, but not particularly lucky guide dog. He was currently on his 12th owner. People just had a habit of dying on the poor dog. Wasn’t his fault. Cancer, MS, earthquakes, head on collisions. Who drowns during a hotel fire? How on earth can a scuba driver get impaled on redwoods in a Nation Forest? Then finally his luck changed. Little Judy Hunter was healthy, never left the yard and she feed him these amazing sweet brown candies. They buried Barney with the 49 Hershey wrappers. It seemed only fitting.

AUBREY

Creative writing is sort of like hiking a mountain without a guide. You will most likely meander off the beaten path, get lost along the way and they might have to call a search party.

If you’re lucky? You make it to the summit and those things only happen once or twice.

If you’re not? You’ll run into a lot of wannabe guides that think they know the right way to hike a mountain, even though they don’t own a pair of hiking shoes and they have never gotten close to a summit before.

Don’t listen to them. Keep hiking.

SERENDIPITY

We got sent on one of those team building courses to try and get us to gel. I had serious doubts that it would work.

Even so, I played along as we took part in various ridiculous exercises through the day.

After building rafts, orienteering and struggling through obstacle courses, I was fed up, so when they announced a game to ‘build trust’, I decided enough was enough.
I was expected to guide my blindfolded partner through a long forest path.

Which served to bring the day to an abrupt halt, when I guided him straight over a cliff edge!

LIZZIE

“We better throw it in the garbage,” complained Tim infuriated.
“I’ll fix it,” said Paul.
“We’ve been here for ages, Paul.”
Paul rolled his eyes and continued to work.
“Forget about it, I tell you.”
“I will fix it.”
This continued for a few hours, Paul getting more and more aggravated.
Suddenly, the thing started purring.
“See,” said Paul triumphantly.
“But it’s making an odd noise…”
Paul closed his eyes for a second, gave the thing a swift jerk and swung it at Tim.
What a shame, he hadn’t followed Tim’s words and thrown the damn saw in the garbage.

MARV

The Art of the Guide

The professor began the class by donning his white apron along with the tall chef’s hat, he then spoke.
“Today’s session more of a guide rather than a ridged rule in the art of poaching and sautéing” he began, “who can give me examples of when you sauté, as to when you want to poach?”
Hannibal, raised his hand, “I believe you’d want sauté the sweet meats of the brain in butter with a hint of garlic as compared to lightly poaching the eye balls and serving in a red sauce, Professor.”
“Excellent example Mr. Lector, excellent”, the professor beamed.

NORVAL JOE

Apparently, shocked by his sudden attack, Polecat stood frozen as Monkey Boy used her head for leverage and lept over her, dashing toward the Primate area of the zoo.
Knowing the zoo’s layout by heart, having worked the whole summer as a guide, he slipped behind the orangutan exhibit and skidded to a stop at the howler monkeys.
“Count to twenty and then let loose with all you’ve got,” he whispered before doubling back.
A half-minute later all hell broke loose in the monkey cages with hoots, howls, and screams.
He watched, hiding, as Polecat’s crew ran toward the diversion.

TURA

Guide, or, The Rectification of Names
———
The people complained against the strictness of the Laws. General Wei said, “In a well-ordered state, those above guide and those below follow.”

He replaced the Laws by Guidelines, and decreed that each citizen rightly apply them to circumstances. The Magistrates were reappointed as Inspectors, instead of trials they held inspections, and instead of punishments they made recommendations, enforced by their officers.

Henceforth, when a thief was hanged for a sack of rice, the people no longer said, “See the injustice of the law!”, but “See the injustice of this criminal!”

Thus by the rectification of names was order restored.

PLANET Z

Billy’s high school girlfriend volunteered as a tour guide to the local art museum.
Then, she dumped him. And started dating another voulteer tour guide.
Billy swore he’d have his revenge.
So, he spent all his time in the basement, working on a robotic tour guide.
The art museum would use the robot, and get rid of volunteers.
And after weeks of tinkering with gyroscoping balancing and interactive voice prompts, he made the robot.
It worked brilliantly. The art museum got rid of their volunteers.
Which gave his girlfriend and her boyfriend lots of free time.
To screw around more.

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

CHARLIE

He held off giving Poopsie the ring. She kicked him square in the cullions for looking at another woman; asking her if he could capture the playful quality of her buttocks with his iCam. Poopsie was tough. She had a Kevlar insert in her panties. Days, she drank and watched TV, but at night, she was a cage fighter in the city. Her personality was a cross between Ronda Rousey and Golda Meir. If she was approached at the bar, she flicked a quarter into the guy’s eye and said “Why don’t you go grab yourself an ice cream, Scooter.”

#2

Lennie was finally admitted to The Ring of The Grand Vizier. Those that did not adopt the tenets of the The Ring were whipped, tortured, teased, robbed, killed, then raped. Lennie had hoped that being a member would finally get him the respect and admiration he strove for as an unpopular clerk in a large, national corporation. He wheedled and cajoled his way into the inner circle of management, and at a company party he accidentally walked in on an ad hoc meeting of The Ring. Rather than kill him on the spot, The Ring invited him into the group.

#3

The story he told to the Psychiatrist didn’t ring true. He complained that the ringing in his ears was the cause for the outbreak of violence at the Walmart store. He threw heavy objects, started fires in the lingerie section, and took off his clothes. A ring of police gathered at the exits, as a tact squad entered and drove him out. Erik was fast and powerful. He leaped from the tops of the display cases, as he evaded the police. Four officers were injured when hit with appliances, but a well-placed rubber bullet to the groin took him down.

MUNSI

On Affection, and Also on Jewelry
By Christopher Munroe

If you liked it, you should put a ring on it.

If you don’t like it, no ring.

It’s fairly simple, if you think about it it’s almost unreasonably simplistic, but it DOES make for a good rule of thumb as far as who or what is liked.

A person with a ring is liked, by at least the person with whom that ring was exchanged.

Trees? People like’em big and bigger ones have more rings.

Saturn? Well everyone likes Saturn!

I like my bathtub…

Wait…

No, I’m going to have to go back to the lab and rethink this…

JEFFREY

The Ring
by Jeffrey Fischer

I remember buying the ring, paying a small fortune for a flawless diamond on the off-chance that she’d see the flaws in a cheaper stone. I remember how nervous I was when I asked her to marry me. When the time came to flip open the box, I snagged the ring and sent it flying across the room. Fortunately, she said yes before I started hunting for it.

Now I gently removed the ring from her lifeless finger just before the undertaker closed the casket. We agreed she would be buried with her wedding ring, but I wanted to keep the diamond. After all, didn’t I just say I paid a fortune for it? I’m sure not going buy another one for my girlfriend.

Ring Around the Bathtub
by Jeffrey Fischer

I stared at the bathtub. Ring around the drain! Remember those ads for Wisk detergent, promising to rid you of “ring around the collar”? Same problem, just on porcelain. I tried a Magic Eraser, I used Comet, I scrubbed and scrubbed, but nothing worked. That damn ring mocked me.

Fine. Just fine. Time to break out the heavy weapon: industrial-strength hydrochloric acid. I gave it a little time to soak in, used a heavy cloth to rub it off, and the stain came right out. Success! I vowed that would be the last time I cut up a body in my own bathtub. Next time, I’ll use the neighbor’s. After all, he wouldn’t be needing it any longer.

RICHARD

#1 – One Ring

Unbelievably, the hobbit’s ploy worked!

Distracted by the gold scattered amongst the undergrowth, the dragon halted its chase, and Boggins crawled away unnoticed.

Of his companions, there was no sign, and he was forced to conclude that they’d left him for dead.

With night drawing in, he found a small cave to hide in and cowered in the darkness, lamenting his loss…

No friends, no hope, and – thanks to the dragon – no gold either.

Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he was surprised to touch metal – all that was left of his treasure: a single gold ring.

#2 – Stella

It had been a thoroughly enjoyable business lunch. Right from the moment Stella was introduced to me, we hit it off big-time.

Not only was she Metrotronics’ best sales manager, she was witty, intelligent and drop dead gorgeous.

Business took a back seat as we flirted madly all evening. Then, as she was leaving, she slipped me a napkin upon which she’d written her number and the words, ‘Ring me’.

When I called, I was in for a hell of a shock: She threatened to nail me for sexual harassment unless I signed the deal!

I signed, of course.

#3 – Romantic Gesture

I wanted something special to celebrate our marriage, so I watched a YouTube instructional for making a ring from a coin.

It wasn’t straightforward – I no workshop tools, so I had to buy them.

I also needed somewhere secret to work, so I rented a workshop.

I went through a few coins too – dozens really. Eventually the exercise had cost me more than buying a ring straight out!

However the glow of pride I felt when I presented my fiancee with my efforts was completely ruined by her response.

“Cheapskate! You couldn’t even buy me a proper ring!”

#4 – Alien

The old guy’s story was implausible, but it did have the ring of truth to it.

He certainly had the military background, and the details we’d been able to research checked out.

It was the crazy stuff that was harder to believe: I’ve heard some hair-brained Area 51 stories, but this was nuts.

Experiments to develop hybrid alien world leaders? Alien DNA infiltrating the corridors of power? An out of control alien intelligence disguised as human, poised for world domination?

Too crazy to be true, yet the evidence was there – an out of control alien, masquerading as human: Trump!

#5 – Dream Job

My first job was almost a dream come true: International travel to destinations most people haven’t even heard of, excitement, adventure and the thrill of never knowing where each day might take you.

My colleagues were an eclectic and interesting bunch of every nationality, and although many were extremely demanding and didn’t suffer fools gladly, they were – without exception – experts in their field, highly motivated and successful individuals.

Then there was the knowledge that you really were making a difference in people’s lives – such a great feeling.

Best job I’ve ever had… Working for the drugs ring.

AUBREY

After a few weeks of busy-ness I’m back. Here’s my story for this week:

We live in an age where everyone is expected to be available at the drop of a hat, but I try not to take that for granted.

I mean, I get it. I do. We’re self absorbed beings that care more about Candy Crush than the person across the table from us. Sometimes, at least.

But thirty years ago, my mom lived thousands of miles from her family, it took several steps and a couple weeks to send a picture of her newborn baby.

Now, the phone rings and she can instantly see her granddaughter, thanks to that soul-sucking technology.

SERENDIPITY

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Just let it ring.

Do not pick up; or do you?

It’s the ultimate catch 22 dilemma…

Your rescuers have your number – they’re making the call. All you have to do is pick up, answer and tell them where you are. Simple.

But, if you pick up the phone, the explosive charge will be triggered and the whole room – with you inside – becomes a raging fireball.

And if you do nothing?

Nothing happens… Nobody will find you, no food, no water, no hope.

So, what’s it going to be?

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

LIZZIE

Silver with a red stone, thought Marcus. She liked red.

The shopkeeper was extremely friendly, however none of the rings appealed to Marcus. He wanted something different.

“Well,” said the man. “I have one here that is very special. It’ll make her young and beautiful forever. But it comes with a special price too.”

“What’s the price? I’ll pay.”

When he left the store, five of his fingers and an ear were gone.

He should’ve noticed those small jars on the shelf behind the counter. It turned out the man was a collector of body art, as he put it.

PLANET XRAY

The Ring of Pluto

The ring around Pluto is hardly noticeable, which is the way the Empire’s Zoological Commission wants it. Originally the ring acted as a bright beacon to travelers that this was an open system to all commerce and travelers, ripe for exploitation. But after several thousands of years of being this way, the Empire closed it down when a group of engineers started to experiment on and raised the intelligence level of the native inhabitants of the third planet in the system.
Now, only occasional sightseeing tours are allowed to visit the planet and then only with a Commission representative onboard.

TOM

Ring One

The jeweler was amazed. “Silver rings just don’t last that long.” “Must have been held together by love.” We purchased Gail’s moon stone engagement ring from Willow when all our hair was a different color. Gail never cared much for diamonds, though I would have gladly laid down the cash for one. She said she wanted a stone the glow warmth and not a cold rock of ice. So we had new ring cast in gold. A dozen interlock bird in a proper Celtic pattern. The silver ring went into the cherry wood box alongside my grandmother and grandfather rings

RingU

I don’t normally go in for horror film, but the Japanese film Ringu somehow got under my radar. It was pretty damn creepy. And just when you thought you had it all figured out, wrong. I was so impressed by the film that I googled the author Koji Suzuki. On his web site you could preorder the American translation through Vertical, Inc. I was the first American to read the book and first to write a review. The book was way scary then the film. Had nightmare for month. Gave the book to my friend, he had nightmares for a month.

Rhine Gold
Everyone has heard parts of it, few have the endurance to make it through the whole cycle. Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen is long, realllllly long. And it’s in German. I don’t speak German. So it came as a surprise that the video of the New York Met’s Spartan stage production in the 90’s was so mesmerizing. I sat glue to the screen as Brünnhilde is slowly surround by the Magic Fire. The last time the SF opera did the ring I was teaching a full load. The next time I will be a man of cum dignitate otium.

NORVAL JOE

Monkey Boy crouched, ready to spring as his enemy circled around him.
The power of the monkey paw was one thing, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if there were only a few. There were a few too many and they moved in to form tightly around him.
“Pole Cat,” he shouted. “I know you’re out there. I can smell you a mile away.”
The ring broke open to admit the girl; petite, attractive and odoriferous.
“You’d never hurt a girl,” she laughed.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” he said, raising a paw, but then suddenly leaped forward.

TURA

Ring
———
Welcome to Phone, the phone you’ve always wanted!

It’s designed as a heavy table ornament, so you never have to awkwardly fish it out of your pocket. It literally rings with a mechanical bell, not a feeble, tinny beep. Its innovative user interface does away with fiddly touchscreens and buttons, replacing them with a single mechanical dial, easily used by the fattest of fingers. Use its companion apps, Notepad and Pen, to record your contacts’ details, and never have to worry about accidentally losing them. Best of all, you can leave it at home, and avoid distractions through the day!
———

PLANET Z

The last time I lost weight, I lost so much, my ring slipped off and I lost it.
I got a new ring. And it fit fine.
Until I gained all the weight back. And more.
Now my ring was too tight. But because it’s gold, it’s soft enough to gradually stretch.
But not enough.
So, I lost weight again. And it got loose again.
This time, I had it adjusted.
So, it fit just fine.
Until I gained the weight back.
Now I wear the ring on a chain around my neck.
And eat whatever the hell I want.

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

MUNSI

February 29th

By Christopher Munroe

Every four year there’s an extra day in February.

As I’ve no doubt you knew without me pointing it out.

What you may not know is that, when that bonus day comes, I spend it in a church.

This might come as a surprise to those of you know me, as if I’m not atheist as such, my agnosticism with regard to a supreme being leans heavily in that direction, but there it is, in spite of all you might have thought…

For one day every four years, I have religion, because I’m willing to take a leap… of faith.

CHARLIE

A few weeks ago L.E.A.P., or The Low Energy Assistance Program, opened their doors, and have since attracted dozens of new clients in town. They offer shots, pills, tonics, electrotherapy, a special diet, and a ratio of 1 trainer/guide for each two members. Some of the medications used are on lists that mention cautionary use, and other items dispensed are kept as private interactions between the LEAP attendants and the program’s clients. Ass hide glue pellets, bi hu (house lizard), and stinkbug (kiu xiang chong) have been used, but contraindications have surfaced and these are being withheld until further study.

#2

The Lower Extremity Aerobic Program (LEAP) just began last week at our local Y W C A. Aerobic programs such as this concentrate on the lower extremities as the primary motive force in building heart strength and lung capacity. No muscles below the thigh are used during the rigid course of repetitions and the challenging positioning of the lower limbs, and joints. The ankles and toes are the point of focus for the day’s exercises. The last two, outside phalanges on each foot must be removed prior to training. Special shoes are also required, but are available at cost from LEAP’s in-house commissary.

#3

Tomorrow is Leap Day, in case you’ve forgotten. It is customary that women propose on Leap Day. A man is expected to get circumcised or re-circumcised if he refuses a marriage proposal on Leap Day. Four years ago, my friend, Tim, refused a surprise proposal from his Irish girlfriend, Heather. At thirty-two, he was kidnapped and taken to a Rabbi in Philadelphia where he was circumcised for the second time by an old Rabbi with palsy. He could never play the trumpet after that time, and to this day, when Leap Year comes around, he cowers in his room, shaking.

JEFFREY
Fractal Time
by Jeffrey Fischer

Ludwig Mandelbrot was the foremost scholar of time. Using ever-more precise measurements, he calibrated the passing of a second to sub-atomic precision. When a gravity wave passed over the Earth, he made subtle adjustments to ensure that a second took exactly a second to pass, no more, no less.

Similarly, he calculated each orbit of the Sun to an exact degree. Not content with adding a leap day every four years or so, or even adjusting for leap seconds now and then, he added and subtracted milliseconds, then nanoseconds, then picoseconds with wild abandon. Eventually he confused himself as to what day it was.

Or at least that was his excuse to the IRS as to why his tax return was late.

Look Before You Leap
by Jeffrey Fischer

His mother always told him to look before he leapt. Although this seemed like good advice at the time, he wondered if it was universally applicable. Were there occasions where looking ahead of time was likely to be a bad idea? He considered the question the next time he needed to clear a large puddle on the curb. Looking was clearly a good idea. He considered the question again when he dove with Acapulco cliff divers – nope, looking was necessary.

At long last, he thought he found the ideal time to ignore his mother’s advice: when hurtling one’s self off a tall building in order to commit suicide. That was a freaking long way down! He turned around and meekly made his way to the ground the slow way, via the elevator.

RICHARD

#1 – Captain’s Log

I gave the command, and we made the leap into hyperspace – the stars froze, becoming streaks on the viewport, then the strange, inside-out feeling as the ship almost immediately began to decelerate.

Suddenly the ship was rocked violently, throwing us across the bridge.

“Captain, we’re under attack!”

I gave the order to return fire, but this would be no picnic – enemy lasers shone out in the darkness, and the ship was taking heavy fire.

Right in the midst of battle, I heard a shouted command: “Supper’s ready!”

I paused the game – victory could wait until bedtime.

#2 – Jonesey – The Leap Year Kid

We always laughed at Jimmy Jones – the Leap Year Kid – having the misfortune to be born on February, twenty-ninth led to endless ribbing.

“Hey Jonesey, ya big three year old! Get back to nursery school”, we’d tease; “Isn’t it time for your afternoon nap?”

I can’t say he took it particularly well, especially since we carried on the mockery into adulthood: “Sorry Jonesey, this is a man’s bar – why doncha go play in the ball pit?”

Of course, he had the last laugh.

Now in my seventies, I swear he doesn’t look a day over eighteen!

TOM

Power of One’s Conviction

He was a man who always embraced the conventional wisdom. Not one to
wander too far from the tried and true. Cautious, Calculating,
Conservative in action. The rock others depended to be immutable in a
capricious universe. But here he stood squarely between the horns of a
dilemma. Clearly the rational choice while practical and profitable lacked
a depth of satisfaction. In counterpoint the irrational choice while
incredibility satisfying was an indictment of everything he held dear. In
the end he chose a leap of faith, and for better or for worst became a
quite different man. He chose love.

With Out Grace

In the category of leaps the standing broad jump seems at first glance a
candidate for oxymoronic land, but if one were to closely examine the need
to leap, there is not much of an opportunity to tap into stored kinetic
energy. Oddly enough to be successful at this event both length and
compression is needed. On the line you get as tightly packed as possible,
arms, legs, chest. Then drive upward to full extension. You don’t stop
there. You pull your knees to your chest, fly forward like a cannonball.
The landing is rough, but you’re guaranteed to place.

1461 to 1

Benny was old for his age. He was 14 going on 56. It wasn’t because he was
young of heart or hyper extended adolescence. He was born on Feb 29, a
leap year baby. Each year on the 28th and 1st his family would throw these
two day unbirthday parties. Double the presents, double the ice cream,
cake and clowns. As an adult he continued the practice to legendary highs.
One year he rented the whole god damn Ringling Brothers Circus. Another
one aboard the Titanic II. For his 15th birthday there are plans to book
the International Space Station

SERENDIPITY

Life, you said, was passing you by – you wanted something more fulfilling, less of the routine, more excitement.

“You’ve got to learn to live a little”, I said, “have fun, try new things, take the occasional risk.”

Even so, I was pretty surprised when you took my suggestion seriously, although when it came to the crunch, you were starting to get cold feet.

“Look, I said – bungee jumping is perfectly safe – consider it a leap of faith.”

You jumped.

And, six and half seconds later, you hit the ground.

Maybe I should have tied the knot tighter?

MICHAEL WEBB

The red leather toe of her shoe made tiny figures in the air between her and I.

“Want to know something?,” she said. “I’m really only seven. I was born on Leap Year Day.”

I looked at her black hair as she sipped. The evening felt inevitable, like a movie I’ve seen already.

“Is that so?,” I said.

“Yes,” she said, and her toe stopped. “Have you ever slept with a seven year old girl?”

It feels like that sometimes, I thought.

“Never,” I said.

She stood up, her dress the shimmering blue promise of tomorrow’s rain.

“Let’s,” she said.

LIZZIE

“Just leave that. We can’t take anything.”

The two ran outside to join the mass of people hurrying down the street.
The military crammed as many as they could in their vehicles before speeding away.
“Hop in,” he said, dragging her towards one of the trucks.
She shook her head.
“We are going to die if we stay.”
She pulled her sleeve up, and a blue light popped up.
“I am like them.”
He was speechless. Then he stretched out his arm. “To be with you.”
She injected him.
They never looked like humans again, but they were still together.

NORVAL JOE

Adages for a happy life.

Never chew off more than you can bite. The mouth was created, or evolved to be, the appropriate size for efficient consumption. Consume food, and life’s challenges, in reasonably sized pieces.

Don’t walk faster than you can run. It’s got to do with body mechanics and efficiency. You’ll go a lot farther, in the long run, if you just walk at a reasonable pace.

Never look before you leap. What are you going to see, anyway? Crocodiles? The distance is too far?

You’ll never accomplish much if you let fear, or death, hold you back.

TURA

Leap

———

The planet Triselii orbits chaotically about three suns, spending a few orbits around one, then around the other binary pair. Not only do the years vary drastically in length, but also the days. Nevertheless, their astronomers have decreed a standard year and a standard day, to which are added leap months, leap days, and leap hours, so that midday always coincides with the closest sun being at its zenith, and the seasons fall at consistent times of the year.

So complex are the calculations, that they believe mathematics would never be developed on a planet orbiting a mere single sun.

PLANET Z

The salmon run along the Columbia River isn’t much of a run anymore.
Dams block the migration of salmon back up the river to their spawning
Engineers built spillways and fish ladders that allow the salmon to leap from pool to pool, until they rejoin the river on the upside of the dam.
Some rivers use siphon pumps and trap elevators instead of the spillways, but the goal is the same.
Whatever the technology, I prefer to use a net at the entry point.
Let’s collect up a few big ones and take them home for dinner.
Delicious Salmon!

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

CHARLIE

Lennie’s first day on the job had him working in the basement of the courthouse. He kept hanging around the foreman’s office and he pestered the old guy. “Go pound sand down a rat hole!” Lennie got the message and went to the basement to start working. The basement was full of rats, and there was a large pile of sand in the corner. Lennie picked up a heavy wooden maul and started pounding sand into the big hole in the middle of the floor. Two yards of sand went into the rat hole until Lennie was exhausted, but determined.

#2

The passage of time is analogous to the flow of the sand in an hourglass. Once the hourglass is inverted, the sand does not stop for anyone or anything. Also, the time that we have to live decreases continuously, just as the sand in the top of the hourglass does. My lady friend has been told that she has an hourglass figure, although the sand has moved quickly and unforgivingly to the bottom of the glass, with no chance that it can be reversed. Lennie, who I spoke of earlier, has reached his middle years, but as an inverted hourglass.

JEFFREY

The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre
by Jeffrey Fischer

Every year was the same: I would rack my brain to think of a Valentine’s Day gift my wife would really enjoy – not just empty calories in a box of chocolates, or overpriced flowers that would be gone inside a week. Every year she would open the package, look at what I bought, look at me, and tell me to try again next year. I realize now that the Calphalon pan, the Dyson vacuum cleaner, and the portable iron for traveling were all mistakes. I vowed that the dagger looks would be a thing of the past.

My problem in previous years was that I bought something I assumed she would like. This time, I thought hard about what I would like to get. That’s when inspiration struck. I jumped in the car to pick out the perfect present.

How was I supposed to know that women don’t think a belt sander is particularly romantic?

Graduation
by Jeffrey Fischer

Ralph had an IQ north of 140 and scores of 800 on both his Math and English SATs, yet here he was, in summer school when the rest of his friends had already graduated. Ralph’s problem: a failing grade in Shop. If he didn’t pass this summer course, he wouldn’t be starting college in the fall.

His problem the last time had been his work-working project. His chess board had so many rough surfaces that the Shop teacher had to see the school nurse for his multiple splinters. Ralph knew he wouldn’t repeat this mistake.

The teacher looked puzzled at the object Ralph placed in his hands. The unknown piece was smooth, all right, but wafer-thin. Ralph explained, “It’s a three-dimensional representation of a two-dimensional surface.”

Ralph passed, but his report card made it clear that the only reason was that Mr. Richter didn’t want to see him again.

RICHARD

The Gospel According to Norman: The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders

There were two men who wished to build themselves new homes.

One chose the cheap option, building his house upon the sand. The sea view was to die for, but those in the know shook their heads scornfully.

The other man chose to build on a solid foundation far inland. The cost was ruinous, but he considered it worthwhile.

Then a huge storm came and blew down the house built on sand.

But the first man was wise, and well insured: He made more on the payout than the house had cost, and laughed all the way to the bank!

LIZZIE

The beach was deserted.
They sat close together and held hands.
It was done.
“The casket is lovely, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He agreed.
The incoming tide threatened to reach them.
He looked at his hand. He could still feel the stickiness.
“I can’t believe my husband is gone. Aren’t you happy?”
He looked at the horizon. He wasn’t that sure anymore.
“Do you love me?” she purred.
Eventually, he’d have to spend money on a second casket; already he could see that coming.
Resenting her clinginess, he vowed never to celebrate Valentine’s Day again. It was too damn expensive.

SERENDIPITY

We had a lovely day at the beach – the sun shone, without a cloud in the sky.

I can’t remember the last time I had such fun! We strolled along the promenade, played the penny arcades and feasted on fish and chips, as seagulls entertained us on the seafront.

With the day drawing to a close, we rested on the beach, watching the waves.

Ignoring my partner’s screams, I relaxed in the fading sunlight. Buried to his neck in sand, it was only a matter of time before the advancing tide would silence his protests.

Such a lovely day!

MUNSI

A Love Note

By Christopher Munroe

I don’t like sand.

It’s coarse, and it’s rough and it’s irritating, and it gets everywhere.

Not like here, here everything’s soft, and smooth.

And it’s just like the ocean, under the moon.

That’s the same as the emotion that I get from you.

You’ve got the kind of loving that can be so smooth, yeah.

Give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it…

And so you see, Padme, while I do hate sand, you’re not like sand, and so I do love you.

Because, rather than being anything like sand, you are my sweet Sand-tana…

TOM

Sand Man
Mother tucked Timmy into bed. “Sand Man’s coming Time to go to sleep,” she
sang and turned out the light. All night long Timmy saw faces in the dark.
Some grinned like Jack O Lanterns. Others like the distorted drawing in
the family bible. Every time Timmy slipped off he heard a wind whip sand
against the window of his room and his eyes popped open. The next morning
a bedraggled Timmy stumbled downstairs to breakfast. The house was empty.
No mom, no dad, no little sister. It was so quiet, just the sound of sand
tapping at the windows.

Cheap Thrills

One of my favorite memories of growing up in the Midwest was digging
school and going to the dunes. If it was Monday it was Indiana Dunes. If
it was Friday it was Michigan Dunes, which was the cooler of the two.
Major sand in Holland, Michigan. Loop a rope through a big old piece of
cardboard, jump off the top, and scream down the side of the dunes like a
toboggan run. Well, that was the idea, but rarely execute. Half way down
you would flip and slid head first into the sand. Damn good fun that was.

Sandy

“Mom why did you name be Sandy?” Mary Margret Sullivan smiled and remember
the Our Lady of Grace’s Retreat in Santa Cruz. The night she and Chasity
O’Toole snuck down to the beach and spent the night drinking beer with a
bunch of Austrian surfers. Both of them didn’t get on the bus back to Ohio
and end up at Berkeley. George was such a gentleman, but not the dad. She
knew she would tell her daughter about that night, but not tonight. “Want
to go to the beach tomorrow?” asked mom. “Can Mary O’Toole come with?”
“Sure Honey.”

TURA
Sand
———

I once had to get away for a bit— never mind why. This friend puts me onto a mate of his, runs a bar in Spain. I gets across the Channel on a freighter, hitchhike through France and into Spain. I’ve only got handwritten directions, but anyway, long story short, I walk into the place about eight in the evening. The locals all go silent and watch. I say “Coffee”, just like that, same word everywhere. I get this thimbleful of black stuff. It tasted like sand.

And that was my first experience of REAL coffee. Haven’t had instant since.

NORVAL JOE

A wise man built his house upon a rock and when the winds blew and the rains fell the building weathered the storm and remained in tact. He laughed at another man who he deemed foolish for building his house upon the sand.

The other man replied, “I plant my taters in sandy land.”

The wise man agreed, “Then, perhaps that isn’t so foolish.”

The second man’s house endured unexpected rains and winds without being washed away, but all the local cats dug in the sand to bury their waist. Though he had many potatoes, they smelled like cat crap.

PLANET Z

One day, you’re here.
The next, you’re gone.
And someone takes your place. My place. Our place.
You don’t own anything. It owns you, for a little while.
Until it finds someone else to have it.
And the person after them.
What is now? Now is the next yesterday.
Just a series of the next yesterdays.
There is no tomorrow. It’s just a now that hasn’t happened yet.
A yesterday that’s already come and gone.
You? Me?
We only write our names in sand.
The next wave comes, and wipes us clean.
The waves never end.
Wiping everything clean.

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:

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

LIZZIE

One good deed and Frank would move up to the next level.
When he arrived at the lake, he saw an alien fighting helplessly to stay afloat, sinking in the water every now and then.
Should he do something? Or just watch the tragedy unfold?
To think that he had made fun of the guy who got the #10… Helping ten old ladies cross the street seemed easy enough.
What should he do? Laura or revenge?
Half an hour later, Frank took off.
Laura would have to wait.
Next card.

JEFFREY

Love Hurts
by Jeffrey Fischer

They laughed at the same things, enjoyed candlelit dinners and long, romantic walks. They held hands and kissed. It was a whirlwind romance, but he knew she was The One. She said she felt the same way. He sensed hesitation in her voice. When pressed, she said she wasn’t sure she could leave her pet hamster to spend her life with him. He said he understood but hoped she would choose him. “Meet me at the Dallas airport at sunset this Saturday. I’ll be at the security line. If you’re not there… well, I’ll know your choice.”

He waited for more than two hours with no sign of her. Dejected, he left. Only then did it occur to him that perhaps he should have specified Dallas-Fort Worth, in case she flew to Love Field.

The Measure of Love
by Jeffrey Fischer

How do you know if you are loved? Love is not the giddy moments of romance, of infatuation, but something deeper, something meaningful. Love is not blaming him for failing to ask for directions and getting lost, making you two hours late to your best friend’s destination wedding. Love is holding him after he vomits away his excessive drinking at the reception after the wedding. Love is understanding, not blaming, when he gets some of the vomit on your $300 shoes you bought for the wedding. Those shoes are now ruined, and love also is not mentioning a second time that they cost $300. Well, a guy can hope, can’t he?

CHARLIE

Two, lovesick lovebirds, sitting on a loveseat, found themselves lovelocked due to the awkward and challenging position they took in their most loveable lovemaking during the lovefest. Local EMTs were called in to uncoil the pair, necessitating the use of the jaws of life and subsequent removal of the padded arms of the seat to extricate the portly pair from the furniture. The host threw a large blanket over them as they were being freed from the ghastly entanglement. The party goers were aghast, and the staff was shocked and sickened by what they witnessed. Smart phone images were traded.

RICHARD

#1 – The Gospel According to Norman: The Sermon on the Grassy Knoll

You have heard it said that you should love your neighbour as yourself, however I say to you, exercise extreme caution in loving your neighbour, especially if your neighbour’s husband is strong of build and quick to anger.

You have also heard it said you should love your enemy – this is pure foolishness and will lead to nothing good.

I tell you the truth, it is far better to find somebody inoffensive, unattached and without a truck load of emotional baggage to lavish your love upon, for that is the way of enlightenment, and a quiet and peaceful life.

#2 – If

“If you loved me, you would”

That was her stock phrase, it usually worked too. Maybe I was a pushover, but I knew what I was doing, so I played along.

She had it all: Parties, presents, holidays, while I quietly waited in the background for my moment.

Then she had the affair.

She came crawling back, tearful and repentant, begging for forgiveness… “If you loved me, you would”, she argued.

But I didn’t love her – I loved her money. So I divorced her, won the house, half her investments, a good chunk of her pension and the car.

#3 – Let her go

They do say, ‘If you really love her, let her go’, and, when it became obvious that my infatuation for her was never going to be reciprocated, I did the honourable and right thing.

I let her go.

Although, not before I’d secreted a GPS tracker in her car, hired a private detective to follow her 24/7 and set up remote cameras in every room of her house.

When you love someone that much, letting them go doesn’t mean you have to let go.

Sadly, justice – like love – is blind and the court didn’t see it my way.

TOM

1. Silly Little Love Song

Four guys once sang: All You Need Is Love. While romantically reasonable,
not so useful in the real world of commerce. Try paying a grocery bill
with that. Or your rent, gas, and electric. Or your credit card charges
for extra bubbles in Panda Pop. Kevlar over love sure could’ve helped
John. Advanced cancer serum versus love, bad choice George. Hey Paul I
think you need a more encompassing prenup. Wait a second, that last guy
sure looks happy. Despite fame and fortune, the fixation of a generation,
maybe he has found true …. Don’t believe it for a moment.

2. Gail

I’ve been in love with Gail for just inside 30 years. She is my best
friend, the person I want to be with. The first face I long to see, the
last when darkness falls. In a world of cross agendas Gail is one of the
few people who rises above the fray. Totally honest and deeply
compassionate. A power dry wit that fires with laser accuracy. A gifted
health provider who has literally saved dozens of lives. I’m honored to be
her partner and try as best as I can to bring, mirth, whimsy, and joy to
her life.

3. Just the Way I See It

To inflict minor mental anguish on my niece is a joy unparalleled. Case in
point while on long trips in a car all music most be categorized as one of
the following: Love Song or Lullaby. Not an easy thing to do with the
Dropkick Murphys, but doable. I once tried to make the argument for Whip
it by Devo under love song, but Zen was having none of that and countered
with: It’s just the type of Lullaby to sing after reading: Go the Fuck To
Sleep. Ok all of you try this! Star Spangled Banner: Love Song or
Lullaby?

SERENDIPITY

All you need is love, they say.

I disagree. What you really need is to be completely lacking in morals and integrity; to be utterly ruthless and completely without compassion.

If you can back that up with fanaticism, lethal firepower and an iron fist, then trust me, you’ll have the upper hand over mere love every time.

Ask any despotic tyrant to choose between love or brute force and I can tell you what their answer will be.

And the best thing of all… The harsher you treat them, the stronger and deeper the love your minions have for you.

TURA

Love, or,

A memory of my father, all that remains

———

My father’s first love was the violin. He could have made it his career, but with a family to support after the War, and no job security in the music profession, he went into school teaching. He came to hate the job, but lived by his choices.

He had character. Seriousness. Proficient at everything he did: music, golfing, fly fishing, supporting a family. An iron constitution too, until the smoking caught up with him.

He died at 74, and I still regret not having known him better. But all his generation are gone now, and only fragments of memory remain.

MUNSI

Romance

By Christopher Munroe

I hate them.

I hate them all.

These fucking people with their fucking love, celebrating as though it made them special.

It does not make them special, they are not special. Nobody is special, and nothing means anything.

But you can’t tell them that, because they must celebrate love.

“Ooooooh!” they say, “Surely my perfect love will protect me from the icy hand of death!”

Nothing will protect you from the icy hand of death.

And as I sit here, in my turtleneck and beret, smoking long, black cigarettes, I hold them in nothing but the most abject of contempt…

ZACKMANN

My friend who works for an ad firm got me into one of those “If you love it why don’t you marry it?” ads. Since I love Lefse, I was happy to do it. Until someone told the police I ate my wife. I didn’t actually marry the lefse. My current cellphone provider doesn’t have roaming outside of North America. My real life wife, who is in fact not lefse, is visiting family in Asia. If you can’t explain that to the judge at least keep me from being sentenced until the end of the month when she returns home.

NORVAL JOE

Dergle drove away from the Widow Finklestien’s house wondering how she could remember Long John, but not himself. How much time had he spent at her home in the last six months since the Dolly Cockles were born?

Certainly, he had lost confidence in himself, even stopped believing in himself, but should that have caused those who were close to him to forget him completely?

Bambi still remember him. Does that mean she likes him more than Widow Finklestien did?

He turned to the dog in the passenger seat. “You’ll always love me, won’t you, boy?”

Long John barked, “Yes.”

PLANET Z

On Valentine’s Day.
Back in grade school.
We’d bring in shoe boxes.
In art class, we’d decorate the shoe boxes.
With glitter, sparkles, and ribbons.
And make mailboxes for valentines.
Then, in homeroom, we’d put out the mailboxes.
And go from mailbox to mailbox.
Putting in our valentines.
No roses. No chocolates. No diamonds. No necklaces.
No fancy cards, either.
Just cheap store-bought, dollar-a-bag slips of paper.
With crappy art and words on them.
Today, I made a shoebox mailbox.
And left it out on my desk.
Five minutes later, my cat was it in.
Asleep.
Best valentine ever.

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:

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

NORVAL JOE

It’s been said that ,Fact is stranger than fiction.

For example…

There is a South America bat that lives in Andean caves that can neither see nor hear. It navigates by its acute sense of smell and actually lures its prey to it by imitating insect pheromones in the gas that it passes.

There is a six toed, brown, tree sloth that is so fat and moves so slowly that they have been captured and used as throw pillows without having to kill and skin them.

In retrospect, since I made up these examples, maybe fiction is stranger than fact.

TOM

There Will Be Hell to Pay

Nearly all hope way gone when the stranger road into the valley. Mary Ann
was the first to see him, and like wild fire that sighting ran through the
town. He didn’t say a word as he tied the pale horse to the front of the
dry goods store. He whisper in the ear of Old Ezra, who sent Young Ezra to
the backroom for the case of silver bullets. The stranger carefully loaded
seven colts and made his way to the sheriff’s office. Propped in a chair
outside the jail he waited for dusk. When darkness fell, they came.

MUNSI

The Doors

By Christopher Munroe

People are strange, when you’re a stranger.

Faces look ugly, when you are ugly.

Women seem wicked, when you are wicked.

Streets are an evil place, when you’re evil.

When you’re strange, faces come out and are strange.

When you’re strange, no one remembers you’re strange.

When you’re strange.

When you’re strange…

Or something like that. I’ll admit, I’ve never paid close attention to the song.

I did enough drugs in high school to believe Pink Floyd were the greatest band in history, but I didn’t, and will never, do enough drugs to believe that Jim Morrison was a poet…

JEFFREY

Pilgrimage
by Jeffrey Fischer

The stranger ambled into the village. His eyes shifted left, then right, but he saw no one. This was the first habitation he had found in days, and he was hoping to restock his food and water with the little cash that remained.

He opened the door to the general store and was assailed by the smell of death. A woman, presumably the proprietress, lay on the floor in a state of decay. He bent over her, trying to discover whether her death was from natural causes. Pustules on her face suggested some kind of pox. It wasn’t a stretch to think the rest of the village shared her fate.

With no wasted movements, he took the supplies he needed and set off. The next few days would show whether he also brought anything unwanted with him.

Stranger than Fiction
by Jeffrey Fischer

Robert Heinlein was a towering figure in the Golden Age of science fiction. He wrote for children as well as adults. He wrote space opera tales of rockets and colonization of the Moon and wars with aliens, but he also wrote on more serious themes in his “future history” series, and in later novels such as “Stranger in a Strange Land” and “Time Enough for Love.” Many teenaged boys were fascinated with the themes in these books, perhaps not least that of removal of restraints on sexual behavior. An endless parade of hot, willing women seemed like a good idea to the mind of the teenaged male. Unfortunately, as they were to learn, that particular conceit might have been the biggest fiction of all.

CHARLIE

My shaman was a total stranger when he first started teaching me how to get high without drugs. He sold cars, but he accumulated some money, and had a nice house in the hills. His method used crystals and stones. When placed on various chakras, including The Kundalini, my shaman would wait until the stones absorbed the forces, then he would pick the largest stone and make a tea out of it, drinking it down quickly while it was still full of all the essential juices. Those of us in the class thought he was a bit of a perv.

#2

When I was in kindergarten, Mum admonished me about talking to strangers. She described Stranger Danger saying I was destined to get accosted, kidnapped, beaten, killed, then gang raped if I talked to any strangers. She put the fear in me early on, as I was wary of speaking to anyone at all if I were out alone, or if I got separated from either parent when shopping or out for a walk. After school today, I was at the corner and a white van pulled alongside. The driver motioned to me to get inside. I never uttered a word.

#3

She grew stranger and stranger as the years passed and as she continued smoking crack. She lost things as she moved through the aisles at Walmart, and by the time she was at the check stand, she started screaming and babbling that someone stole her baby, her dog, her purse, and her coat. She would curl into a tight ball, tuck in her legs, curl up on the floor, and bawl until the manager and assistant manager put her in a shopping cart and took her to the parking lot. Crazy Daisey was never locked up or ordered into rehab.

#4

Bart bragged about getting a bit of strange when he was in England. He went to a dance in Hoddesdon, and met a pert young lady. When he approached her and asked her for a dance, she told him to fuck off. He busted out in laughter and I suppose she was so shocked by his reaction, her defenses were dropped, so they danced for the rest of the night. He slipped her a couple of Roofies he always carried in a little, metal pill box he wore around his neck, and it was straight to the snooch in minutes.

RICHARD

Dragon rage

After the many trials he’d endured so far, the hobbit was no stranger to danger, but this was by far the closest he, or his companions had come to death.

Hurriedly, Boggins started stuffing his pockets with gold, only to find, with a sinking heart, that the weight made it impossible to run.

Another roar, this time closer, filled the forest and, suddenly, his travelling companions appeared, fleeing for their lives.

“Do something!” they cried, tearing past.

Then the dragon was upon him!

Flinging handfuls of gold as far as he could, the hobbit shouted: “Fetch!” before diving for cover!

AMI

The SL Stranger Strangler

I fondle the soft, black, knitted ski mask in my left hand, the piano wire stretched between two wooden grips in the other.

Puzzle pieces dropped in chats over time belied your identity. Sincere and sweetly seductive declarations shared between us were only means to your satisfied end. Now, I’ll have mine. No, you’re not the first.

The Greyhound hums and closes the gap; have your fantasy with another. You’ll be mine soon.

My garrote, my equalizer; your size and strength no match. I’ve known the ultimate orgasm as fingers claw at the unrelenting strangle-hold, bleeding, eyes pleading. You really never knew us.

AUBREY

My best friend takes me down rabbit holes now and then. Most of the time I don’t even realize she’s done it until we’re already falling. She takes my hand, and leaps headfirst down, and I can’t help but be pulled along with her.

But I like that sensation, free falling towards an adventure, even though I’m terrified to jump. Too many people in the past pushed me down the rabbit hole but didn’t jump.

Now I like the thrill when things get curiouser and curiouser. Strange and then stranger.

It’s not an adventure, unless things get a little weird.

SERENDIPITY

That person, staring at you as you squirm uncomfortably on the bus.

That person, pressing in, far too closely, as you wait in the queue.

That person, waving their fist from behind the wheel as they cut in front at the junction.

That person, who bumped you, spilling your drink, before melting into the crowd.

That person, you wave to across the street, only to realise – acutely embarrassed – you don’t know them at all.

That person, you pass in the subway, without looking before hurrying away.

That person: The perfect stranger, nameless and faceless.

That person, is me.

TURA

Stranger

———

When the gods were new, they assembled together to know what they should do.

“I have made a strange thing,” said one. And he showed a vast universe of whirling balls of fire.

Another said, “I will make a stranger.” And he punctured that universe with many holes, and inside each he showed that self-same universe reflected.

A third said, “I will make yet stranger.” On a tiny lump of rock he created a host of small figures that fought among themselves, and took themselves to be gods.

“This is the strangest thing,” they agreed. “Let us call it ‘Man’.”

LIZZIE

“I’m sorry,” said the stranger before hanging up.
She was perplexed. Probably a wrong number, but still… a bit creepy.
When she turned off the light, she didn’t notice the slight creaking of the entrance door and a shadow walking towards her bed. Drowsy, she only felt a slight sting on her neck.
No one ever saw her again.
The only thing they found was a card on her nightstand saying “Gone”.

She would come back, years later. She too would call someone to say “I’m sorry”. That was the price to be free. And she had to pay it.

DANNY

I’m a stranger in the eyes of myself. All the hopes and dreams of my obnoxious youth has faded in the cold harsh rain of reality. Dis-barred, dis-enfranchised, dis-owned, dis-loved, dis-respected, simply dissed by every level of society. The words of truth carry a very heavy price, because the words will not be heard by the weak, cursed by the enfranchised, and dismissed by those who actually own literally everything we take for granted. We bought into the lie of freedom and justice for all, when in reality, there is just the fictional liberal boogieman we are trained to kick.

PLANET Z

The fortune cookie said: “Help a stranger.”

After I paid my bill and walked out the door, there was a homeless guy standing there asking for help.

“Hi stranger,” he said. “Can you help me? I need five bucks.”

Which explained why I got a fortune cookie at a shoe repair shop.

And it wasn’t as much a cookie as an orange rind wrapped around shoe cardboard.

The fortune was written on it in shaky block print. The same as the bum’s sign.

“Just five bucks,” he said.

I helped him into the street with a kick to the ass.

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:

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

JEFFREY

The Decline of Civilization
by Jeffrey Fischer

In downtown Washington, as in any tourist area, cameras are ubiquitous. Tourists snap away, taking home reminders of their trips. Back in the day, though, the expense of film made everyone consider carefully each click of the shutter.

Today, the horrible combination of digital cameras and human narcissism means that everyone takes selfies, invariably in stupid poses. You’ve seen them: the goofy grin, the peace sign, standing on one leg. The culmination of this terrible trend is the selfie stick. Only the fact that museums have started banning those abominations gives me a glimmer of hope for humanity.

Propaganda Film
by Jeffrey Fischer

Looking straight into the camera, Lieutenant Sheaffer began to read the propaganda script his captors had forced on him. He had considered resisting, but instead designed a better plan. He recalled Commander, later Admiral, Jeremiah Denton, who was taken prisoner during the Vietnam War and who used a series of eye blinks to spell out “torture” in Morse code as he read Viet Cong propaganda. Like Denton, the young Lieutenant used Morse code to blink out a message. This one simply read, “assholes.”

Back in the U.S., no one could agree whether Sheaffer was referring to his Iranian captors or the spineless politicians back home.

CHARLIE

They say cameras don’t lie, but mine lied like a rug; like a cheap watch. I’d take a picture of a beautiful woman, and when I got home and looked at the photos, the light was wrong, the photo was blurred, or the top of her head was cut off. My camera was a prefabricator. It was a Leica M-3 and I suspected as much. I bought it in small shop in Bonn, Germany from an ex Nazi. I should have avoided the place, as it was frequented by skinheads and lots of older men with glasses and brown overcoats.

#2

The ultra-miniature camera was cleverly integrated into the frame of my thick glasses. I could trigger the camera and microphone with a small, radio device in my pocket. I’d be markedly rude to someone just to get a close-up of their expected, enraged expression and their explosive reaction. Often, I went out of my way to be purposefully rude to the barista or the waitress at the cafe. This morning, the last image that was recorded was the fork approaching the center of my forehead as I made a particularly ugly remark to the obese server at Wo Lee’s Restaurant.

#3

My new camera is the shit. It has a dozen modes, takes two flash chips, has built in Wi-Fi, accepts voice commands, prompts subjects to smile, to stay still, to move left or right, higher or lower, can take ultraviolet and infrared images, emits a signal if more than ten feet away from me, has gyro stabilization, ear and mic jacks, wireless charging capacity, and it can send a signal to outboard recording discs or to a cloud account. It features an ultrasonic sensor cleaning “motor”, etc., etc. I found the camera in the back seat of my landlord’s Lincoln.

MUNSI

My Camera

By Christopher Munroe

I’ve bought a Polaroid camera.

And film, obviously. It would’ve been pointless without film.

I bought it just in case I meet a girl with brown hair and glasses, who loves The Smiths and wants to teach me to love life again the way a child does.

We’ll lay by the river, talking about our hopes and dreams while I snap Polaroids of the two of us, falling in love.

I don’t have a specific bespectacled brunette in mind, yet, I bought it just in case…

After all, if I ever DO meet her, I’d hate not to be ready…

RICHARD

#1 – Camera

You know all those moments when you just wish you had a camera with you, only you haven’t?

That’s the story of my life!

Those once in a lifetime opportunities to capture history in the making… But the camera’s still in the car.

Those freak occurrences, when you’re in the right place, at exactly the right time… And your camera isn’t.

Those iconic shots that get put on t-shirts and are recognisable the world over… If only you’d brought the camera.

Happens to me, time after time.

I’m beginning to think that press photographer was definitely the wrong career choice.

#2 – The Gospel According to Norman: The Parable of the Tourist

It so happened that a certain stranger to the country was separated from his family and found himself lost in the city.

It came to pass that good fortune led him to the temple square, where he gazed in wonderment at the great house of the Almighty, built by the toil of faithful men.

Wishing to preserve the moment, he brought forth his camera, calling upon a passer-by to assist. As he posed before the temple gates, the rogue made off with his camera, disappearing into the crowd.

Be not fooled – though the temple is holy, man is not.

LIZZIE

Lillie was bored. Work, home, the occasional walk at the beach. It was during one of these walks that she spotted the camera. She looked around. The beach was practically deserted. A few surfers challenged the waves. She grabbed the camera and wiped the sand away. Then, she clicked the power button. And there it was, someone else’s life. The family get-together. A birthday and a wedding. The pregnant girlfriend and the beach, this beach. Suddenly, Lillie’s life wasn’t boring any more. She had to find these people. Yes, and in the meantime, she’d be the keeper of their past.

AMI

Hair, make-up, outfit perfect. Vultures, pixel whores, candid money-shot stalkers. Bounty sold to the highest bidder for gold and recognition. Not the halos-of-light and soft-shadows image. No, they covet that moment when the wind is angry and a memorable contortion belies natural grace.

Posture perfect, chin up, sparkle on and moving gingerly to the elevator, my eyes scan, anticipating the sneak attack. I smooth and position before the lobby doors open. Nothing. Stealth bastards.

Realization won’t deflate my outer calm. I move confidently into the spotlight of a chandelier and tap, smiling at my Verizon LG.

AUBREY

Most of the time when people see me wandering around with my nice camera, they figure I’m into photography.

I guess they’re not wrong, technically.

A part of me wonders if that would be better, maybe easier, than what I actually do.

Sitting in a car, outside a seedy motel or a bar isn’t exactly glamorous work. But catching people at their not-so-finest moments? It pays the bills.

I suppose maybe I am a photographer, the subjects just don’t know their secrets are no longer secrets. It’s not art, but it is lucrative. That will have to do for now.

SERENDIPITY

That bright flash you saw out of the corner of your eye was sunlight catching my lens.

Foolish of me really – I should take more care – it would be such a shame to give the game away now.

I’ve been watching you for weeks: Camera documenting every movement and every moment as your life unfolds through my viewfinder.

I know your routines, what you do, where and when you go – there’s not a thing I don’t know about you.

Your own, personal, private camera shoot.

And, one of these days…

I’m going to shoot you for real!

TOM

I Am a Camera

Most kid’s first camera was a Kodak Box Brownie. Not yours truly. At the
tender act of 10 I was shooting with a twin lens Zeiss Ikon Ikoflex, a
camera my father had purchase in Japan, during the Korean War. Beautiful 2
Ľ inch negatives. By 12 I had an entire darkroom set up in the back bath
room. Over the years I have had a dozen LSR cameras. Shot 1000s of photos.
I got boxes of negatives shot over a half century. You would think I might
harbor a romantic longing for chemical photography. Screw that, give me
digital

TURA

Camera

———

I have an aura camera. At least, that’s how I present my stall at Mind Body and Spirit shows. The camera’s loaded with UV-sensitive film, and with a few blacklights and cold reading, it turns a steady penny.

This this guy shows up, tall, elegant, a little odd.

“Would you like to *really* see auras?” he said.

“The camera works well enough,” I say, trying to figure his game.

“The gift chooses *you*,” he says, and walks off.

And now I do see everyone’s auras. I can’t see my own though. They don’t show up in mirrors. Or in cameras.

NORVAL JOE

Tyler Perry mugged for the TV cameras as he walked up the red carpet, a late nominee to the Oscars.

A multiple nominee, Mr. Perry waited in vain for a win in the categories of script writing for his most recent offering in the Madea franchise, “Medea and Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure” and Costuming for his portrayal as Medea in “Medea and Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure”.

Ultimately, his greatest disappointment was not winning the category of “Man Dressed as an Old Fat Woman” which went to a high school drama class’s recording of their performance of “Mrs. Doubtfire”.

PLANET Z

I’ve got one of those smartphones with a built-in camera.
I can’t remember the last time I used an actual camera.
I know that I’ve got a digital camera somewhere in my desk drawer.

Which might come in handy, if I ever need to snap a photo of my camera.

If nobody else with a smartphone is around.

Or I couldn’t manage to get a hold of someone, since it is a phone, after all.

Or text someone. Or facebook a meetup.

Although I could probably snap a photo of my smartphone with the camera in my laptop.

Never mind.

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
• Tom
• Jeffrey
• Charlie
• Richard
• Lizzie
• Aubrey
• Serendipity
• Ami
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Danny
• Planet Z

MUNSI

On Filmgoing

By Christopher Munroe

I’ve seen Inception.

Presumably.

I mean, it’s the type of movie I WOULD see. I love Chris Nolan, he makes interesting, thinky blockbusters that blend spectacular visual effects with densely packed ideas, and I respond consistently well to his films.

Also: Batman.

Plus, I remember watching the film, enjoying the performances and talking on my way home about whether Leo had woken up or not. I remember it vividly.

But, in spite of all that, if it were just a case of somebody putting the MEMORY of the movie Inception in my mind while I slept, how would I know?

TOM

your own steps in flight

I thought about you today. I remember the day I took the picture tacked to
the wall. Something had caught your interest and just the shadow of a
smile graced your face. I thought I had boxed up all the photos after the
funeral, but this one had somehow escaped the purge and was hiding under a
CalStrs report. Just a corner was showing, just a small edge of your hair,
but enough to send me sailing through time and space. I thought we would
grow old together. Wasn’t to be. I think I’ll leave that one on the wall.

JEFFREY

Blue Book
by Jeffrey Fischer

Jeremy opened the exam. His eyes skimmed the first question, then the next and the next. He started to panic, all rational thoughts gone from his mind. He didn’t understand how this was happening. He had studied for this test harder than any previous one, and knew the material cold. For some reason, all he could recall were songs from his favorite metal bands and strategies for winning at Fallout 4. Only then did it occur to him that “studying” for the exam while listening to music and playing Fallout might not have been his best strategy.

Deep Thoughts
by Jeffrey Fischer

John had no real foreign policy expertise, but years in politics allowed him to fake it. He would listen to subordinates, ponder, stare at a point in the distance, and prepare to deliver Deep Thoughts. Examples included such gems as “Peace is important to the region,” and “We would be gravely concerned if Iran developed nuclear weapons,” and the bumper-sticker classic that “War is not the answer.”

A newcomer asked some of the old hands why they didn’t challenge John on his vague statements. One veteran finally broke the awkward silence. “The last time we insisted the boss come up with concrete guidance instead of his usual vague bullshit, we got James Taylor in Paris. Never again.”

CHARLIE

It was Spring, and the young man turned his thoughts to love…rather erotic trysts in the back of the school bus during football games. His target was Myrna Cotton. Jerry wished her mango was a little more pert, but he couldn’t be too fussy, given the time he had to join paunches with Myrna. Three days after his encounter with Myrna, Jerry was at the chemist buying cures identified as oils, compounds, expectorants, coated tablets, drops, liquids, waters, purifiers, balsams, renewers, balms, extracts, seltzers, preparations, vapors, and liniments. None of them worked, and Jerry’s El Jefe had to be excised.

#2

I enjoy thought problems. I’ll share one. You have an enemy combatant in your care. He knows where the bomb is hidden. You are alone with the man, and you have a toolbox full of pliers, hammers and linoleum knives. What is going through your mind as you try to reason with the man and repeatedly ask him where he secreted the bomb? After two hours, he has said nothing but his name. You eye the pliers in the toolbox. Do you start pulling his teeth or ripping out his fingernails, or do you give up and go to lunch?

#3

I always thought that interventions were fucking rude. Some friends gathered together last night and sprung an intervention. They surprised me in my own living room under the pretense of giving me a going-away party for my upcoming, yearly, trip to Japan. I was really upset, but managed to hear them out without revealing anything, making excuses, or busting out in tears. One of them went to his car and brought in a big whiteboard filled with numbers. They showed me how much I had spent on rehab, medical bills, drugs and alcohol. I got sober at 2 this morning.

RICHARD

#1 – Fool’s Gold

Having secured the ogre as best he could – double granny knots, a squirrel hitch and twelve turns around the nearest tree – the hobbit’s thoughts turned to the gold.

He was now rich beyond his wildest dreams, but he had no idea how to move the treasure, and he knew his travelling companions weren’t going to let him keep it for himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a distant roar: Shortly after, the sounds of panic-stricken adventurers, echoed throughout the forest, along with the sound of a very angry pursuing dragon.

“Oh crap!”, thought Boggins, “that’s all I need!”

#2 – The Gospel According to Norman: Advice Regarding Impure Thoughts

If a man, or woman (for in the eyes of the One True Law, they are also men), would entertain impure and base thoughts, then it shall be an abomination and they should be cast out and declared ritually unclean.

For it is better to enter the Kingdom of Norman adorned with filthy rags, yet possessed of pure and clean thoughts, than it is to profess innocence, yet be consumed with uncleanness and impurity.

Alternatively, you can choose to keep your thoughts secret and none will be any the wiser… For only a true fool admits to a smutty mind.

#3 – I had thoughts…

I had thoughts of writing a novel, but I didn’t have the time; I had thoughts to write a poem but the words just wouldn’t rhyme – well, they would, but no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t make them scan.

I had thoughts to become a man of letters, but I couldn’t afford the stamps, then email came along, and it’s just not the same.

All my literary leanings came to nothing… Books, blogs, journalism – never successfully.

However, I’ve found my niche: hundred word stories – at last, something I can do!

(Dammit… four words short!)

LIZZIE

How much does a thought weigh? Is it as light as a flowing feather? Or as heavy as a broken heart? Is it as light as your deepest love or as heavy as your worst fear? And how much does the future weigh? More than the past? Less than the present? How much does a thought weigh when you’re afraid? Does it make you stare at the sky or does it make you sink in the ground? Is it as heavy as a string of tears or as light as a row of beads? How much does a thought weigh?

AUBREY

“Can’t you just, not think about it? Stop stressing yourself out. Breathe.”

It’s frustrating to say the least, when people treat your illness like it’s all in your head, because it has to do with your brain.

“Can’t you just, stop being diabetic? Stop taking your insulin. It will be fine.”
Are words you would never hear them say. No one tells you to just pull yourself up by the bootstraps when you have cancer or acid reflux.

The problem is, it’s not just in my head. It’s in everything I do.

I would stop if I could. Trust me.

SARAH

We’ve all had those thoughts… You know the ones – the murderous, evil and cruel sort – often spawned in anger, but always cold, rational and considered.

We’ve all imagined killing our boss, spouse, or that irritating guy at the bar – we’ve run through scenarios in our minds, planned alibis and plotted how we’d dispose of the body.

You all think that I’m twisted and freaky, but the truth is, I only say what the rest of you have thought at some time or another, and you know that’s true.

Just beware…

It’s a thin line between thought, and action.

AMI

Did you feel that? I’ll do it again . . . did you feel it then? Yeah, I saw your fine hairs rise.

Would I pray for your buddy? Of course; I have the power but, I want the best result so here’s the question. Does a prayer to a facilitator exponentially enhance the energy of my thought or, like electricity flowing through a long conduit which may cause resistance, diminish it?

NORVAL JOE

Dergle and Long John sat on a park bench, people passing by, apparently unaware of their presence.

“Is what the little girl said true in the converse?” he asked his dog. “If you can be whatever you want by just believing, if you stop believing in yourself will you cease to be whatever you were?”

The wiener dog raised his eyebrows.

Dergle continued, “The poet said, ‘As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.’ So. If I think in my heart I am nothing, I must be nothing.”

Dergle patted his dog. “Thanks for believing in me, boy.”

TURA

Thoughts

———

Have you ever tried to think about the very thought you’re thinking when you think about the thought?

It’s like taking a step backwards to see yourself. When you think about a thought, you’re not having *that* thought, you’re having a thought about it. And if you think about the thought about the thought, that’s a third thought.

Just as well. If you thought about a thought that was itself the thought about that thought, your mind could get stuck in a loop. I reckon that’s all that so-called enlightenment is: tying your brain in a knot it can’t untie.

DANNY

Some comedian once said, “If you have a thought, maybe you should let it go.” You bet I should. Maybe this comedian was to drunk or high to drive. Probably didn’t even have a valid driver’s license. Has never before and never will respect the laws of descent society. Yet we try to be rational to irrationality, extend a hand in friendship to complete psychopaths. The type of person I used to represent in a court of law. So hand out some pretense and rage at the court of justice you now stage. It’s all just a lie. My thoughts.

PLANET Z

Ted’s magic penny allowed him to read the thoughts of others.

Place it on their skin, and the connection was made.

Reading the thoughts of his dog Sam was so strange. For a week, he wanted to drink from Sam’s water bowl.

He tried the penny on his cousin Albert while he was asleep.

The twisted things he saw made him scream and vomit, and he ran away.

Albert used the penny in a museum souvenir press, and it warped Ted’s visions further.

Ted spent years in an children’s asylum, tormented and raving, until he choked on his own tongue.

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
• Charlie
• Lizzie
• Ana
• Jeffrey
• Ami
• Aubrey
• Richard
• Serendipity
• Zackmann
• Tura
• Norval Joe
• Justin the Space Turtle
• Planet Z

MUNSI

My New Program

By Christopher Munroe

Here’s my pitch:

Our contestants, wild, sexy twentysomethings all, arrive at the house on the first day and are told to wait for the host to come and let them in.

The host, obviously, never comes, and the series is filmed in front of the house as, over the course of several days, without provisions beyond whatever they might have brought with them, they give up on ever being on TV and walk away…

The last, half starved, exhausted contestant still waiting, once the others have left, will be declared the winner.

“The Line” will premier this autumn, on NBC.

CHARLIE

Aaron crossed the line at every opportunity. He made it a point to shock, offend and irritate a dozen or more people every day. He wore t-shirts or hoodies with insulting and profane phrases, and adorned his jacket or fleece with even more offensive patches and buttons. His ability to rouse people’s ire was astonishing. The t-shirt he wore to his monthly Kiwanis meeting this morning was emblazoned with the words: “Nobody knows I’m a Lesbian.” Aaron got laughs from folks that were hip to sarcasm and black humor, but he only got grimaces and stink eye from the rest.

#2

Little Leo was a terrible student. He couldn’t draw a straight line if he didn’t have a straight edge to set his chalk against. However, he would practice for hours. He would draw the figure, common faces in the street, and copy sculpture in the church. Leo drew a lot of penises and many of his male figures were very feminine. The contemporaries of Leo accused him of being a Sodomite, either out of jealousy or rumors circulated at the time. Leo went on to create many famous works, including The Mona Lisa and the earliest drawing of the helicopter.

#3

Living below the “poverty line” and taking advantage of various public charities, exemptions, and subsidies was an art form. Bob even used the food bank. He had accumulated a couple of hundred thousand dollars, so he put all the money in his cousin’s name, and claimed several big, gambling losses over a period of five years. He drove an old car, dressed shabbily and let his yard go to weed. He kept to himself, and walked as often as the weather allowed. The utility companies and the tax assessor believed him when he reported a very low income. It worked.

#4

Lois delivered her line. She left the set and went to the parking lot to sit in her car. She had another small part after lunch. She ate and returned to the set. Her training at UCLA was demanding, and summer stock parts were helpful to polish her craft. The director called the actors back, and they shot the new film for the next couple of hours. Lois was more nervous than usual as her line was coming up. She lay there with her ankles locked behind her ears. “Sock it to me, Boatswain Mate, Murphy. Sock it to me!”

LIZZIE

The blue line on the floor was in sight. Damien waited eagerly. Stardom, they said. He stepped out of the vehicle and stood on his side of the line. He had thought about taking some food and some clothes with him. But he knew he’d have to wear a special suit anyway. They’d provide food too. Beaming, Damien stepped over the line. The portal sucked him in and minced him into little portions, wrapping him in some sort of plastic. He didn’t look bad in it. However, it had never crossed his mind that he would become the damn food.

ANA

Where would we be without the line?

We’d be stuck standing in line instead of walking the line.

The shortest distance between any two points is a straight line.

My line is never straight. My line ends up looking like scribbles.

Is anybody’s line ever straight?

Time to cross the road but there is a long line of traffic.

I might never cross the road. The line lasts forever.

Oh finally the end of the line. Time to cross the road.

I get to stand in the lunch line.

I certainly end up in line often.

I need a book.

JEFFREY

Getting the Point

Smith picked up the closest pen, a fine marker, and drew a line a third of the way across the page. He considered for a moment, then selected a medium-nib fountain pen with which to draw a second, wider line below the first. Finally, he chose a pen with a double-broad nib, the widest and wettest pen he owned, which he used primarily for signing documents. He made two more underlines, digging into the paper – the second time so hard the nib flexed.

“I’m not sure how much clearer I can be,” he told Jones, standing in front of Smith’s desk looking perplexed. Bold, all capitals, and now with four underlines. “YOU’RE FIRED!”

Useful Skills
by Jeffrey Fischer

In high school, I worked on the school newspaper, called the Brandywine *Line*. I’m not sure where the name came from – perhaps the founders liked the pleasing rhyme. We all wrote articles, made up headlines, and helped typeset the paper on ancient equipment, gluing articles and illustrations in place on the page and pasting corrections over the errata.

Although only one of us made a career in journalism, I think we learned some valuable skills during our late nights. Oh, not in typesetting: those machines were outdated even in the 70s. Not in composing headlines, either: creating mildly risque puns on school nicknames is a skill, to be sure, but less valuable than one might think. The real value was in having nerdy boys and nerdy girls learn to interact with the opposite sex. Just don’t tell our parents.

AMI

I found it, a beautiful crystal ball as clear as that perfect ice cube in a refreshing drink commercial. Boxed carefully for shipping in white tissue nestled in air-filled plastic pillows and addressed to my dear sister, the stock broker. She’ll laugh; she needs a laugh.

I quick-step up the building entrance calculating the line likely formed from the number of cars parked in front of the red brick icon. I’ll be out of here in noooooooo, how can this be? I pay my dues for being a good sister and head home to find a crystal ball for me.

AUBREY

Johnny Cash plays on the radio as we drive. The windows are down and warm summer air weaves through my hair as I lean out the passenger window. I get the feeling I’ll never experience something quite like this again, as we leave the funeral.

It’s strange how death can make you feel so alive. How songs become memories.

Because you’re mine, I walk the line. The words echo in my head as I look over at him, his eyes are on the road, on what is ahead of us. I can’t spend too much time looking behind, looking back.

RICHARD

#1 – That’s Life

Bombed, shot at, crawling through muddy trenches under fire… Rescuing people from fires and the brink of death… Infiltrating foreign regimes… Giving humanitarian aid in disaster zones.

Incredible challenges faced by remarkable people daily, and when you try to give them their due, their unassuming response? “It’s all in the line of duty”.

I understand that completely. After all, every day I battle with the stress and uncertainty of public transport, wrestle with packed city streets, suffer the trials of dealing with idiots in meetings and pointless telephone calls.

But, you know what?

It’s all in the line of duty.

#2 – Checkout

I joined the line at the checkout with the usual feeling of inevitability.

I knew every other line would move forward at a sprint, whilst mine crawled. I knew the person in front would have a million coupons. Chances are, someone would break a box of eggs, have their card declined and spend ages packing and repacking bags.

With a sigh, I resigned myself to fate.

“Excuse me, sir – everyone’s waiting!”

Damn! My turn. I fumbled for my bags, wallet and change, dropping my box of eggs in the process.

The exasperated sigh behind me told a familiar story!

#3 – The Gospel according to Norman: The Parable of the Unpaid Dues

It so happened a gambler fell upon hard times, losing all his wealth, and becoming a beggar in the marketplace.

“Woe is me,” he exclaimed, “I am sorely afflicted, what can I do?”

“You can bugger off from here for a start”, replied a more accomplished beggar: “this is my patch!”

The gambler took to the road, where he was set upon and beaten by robbers.

A kindly Samaritan saw the man, stopped, and gave him a helpline number to telephone.

However, the gambler hadn’t paid the phone bill – the line was dead, and shortly thereafter, so was he.

SERENDIPITY

There’s a line you just don’t cross – where any reasonable person turns their back and walks away.

It’s a line commonsense tells you must remain a hard limit – there’s a right side and a wrong side of that line; you cross it at your peril: only the foolish, the mad, the deluded, choose the wrong side.

But I’m none of them – I’m rational, calculating and entirely sane, and I’ve crossed every line there is – deep into the territory beyond.

I am you, as you really are, when you cross that line dividing waking and your dreams.

ZACKMANN

Oh my, I feel like I have been standing in this line for days. After serving a term in the military and shopping on Black Friday twice, some of us are slow learners, I promised myself to never stand in a line more than twenty people long again. Except for that one day I went to an anime convention, I did pretty well with that. Standing in long lines is my own personal hell. I see a guy who likes like Joe Hill’s father so I must have been wrong about this line being hell. He usually ends with purgatory.

TURA

Pound

———

After ten years of arduous travelling through the remotest places on Earth, at last I found the Hidden Master, seated outside a ten foot square hut. I put my questions.

—What is the teaching of the Buddha?

—Ten pounds of flax.

—Er, I mean, what did he tell people?

—Not a single grain of rice.

—Do you know where he is?

—The outhouse behind this hut.

—How can I get to speak to him?

—If you see that idiot on the road, kill him.

I can’t decide if those were koans, or if he was just deaf as a post.

———

Line

———

I remember “PDAs”, Personal Digital Assistants. That just meant a calendar app and an address book. Then recommender systems to tell you films you’d like. Now, Smartglass. It reads your heartbeat, brainwaves, eyegaze, everything. It knows what you want before you do and smooths the path.

It gamifies eating and exercise, so you’ll be fitter and healthier with Smartglass.

In some jobs it will do the job for you, continually whispering in your ear to tell you what to do.

Somewhere a line was crossed. We wanted paradise and all we got was machines to live our lives for us.

NORVAL JOE

Henry sat on the edge of the rain gutter and surveyed the line of pigeons at the top of the roof. He must forget these dull and unimaginative creatures were once his family. Not brothers and sisters–they were cousins or something like that.

“Forget that, now,” Henry told himself. “I’m a hawk and these pigeons are my dinner. But which one?”

Jenny was the fattest and probably the easiest to catch. He couldn’t drop from the sky like the rest of the hawks. Henry would have to sneak up and attack her from behind.

He’d have to wait until dark.

JUSTIN

The creature advanced. Feline form with aquatic features. The most feared, mysterious enemy of the United Empire of Earth, the Vanduul. He cowered from its cold gaze, weakly jabbing the knife towards the alien. It leapt, tearing the knife from his grasp. Its teeth glinted as it spoke.

“You killed my brother, and tore our ship apart and sold it for scrap, as is your right, but you stole this knife from me. That is not your right, it is a death sentence!”

The knife glinted as it flicked out, and a red, quickly growing line appeared across his stomach.

PLANET Z

Theodore was an expert in cell phone bombs.

He liked to watch his targets from the hills as he made the fatal calls.

These days, Central Command preferred drone strikes, but some targets dug deep enough to thwart the best bunker-busters.

Which also made it difficult for Theodore, too.

If the bomb can’t get signal, you can’t set it off.

Central Command tried to text Theodore with changed orders.

“Poison the air intake vents.”

But they called the wrong phone number.

It was for Theodore’s backup bomb. Which he’d mistakenly left on.

The target watched the explosion on the hill.