Month: September 2015

Two Scoops

Kellogg’s says there are two scoops of raisins in every box.
However, they never say how big the scoops are.
I’ve seen some tiny scoops at the bulk candy store, and I’ve seen some huge scoops in the flour bins at the Whole Foods.
It’s not the huge scoops. Because the box would be all raisins and no bran.
And that “Two Scoops” phrase is on every box, big and small. Even those tiny boxes in the hotel’s continental breakfast buffet. So scoops aren’t the same size for every box?
I think they’re full of shit.
Two scoops of it.

Endangered

I’m tired of all the smug assholes who eat organic foods and drive hybrids.
What’s the opposite of green? Red?
Whatever it is, I want it. I want it bad.
I want a carbon footprint the size of Godzilla stomping Tokyo.
Every time I buy your product, I want to know that an endangered species has died.
And not one of those ugly benthic freaky fish or nasty killer wasps or Amazonian fruit snakes, either.
I want it to be some cute fluffy creature that you could hug all day that snuffs it for all eternity.
And then, grill it.

Max Paints

Max opened up a paint store, but the signmaker got the order wrong, so the sign said MAX’S PANTS.
Everything said MAX’S PANTS on it: bank account, business license, and all that other stuff.
He tried to paint an I in between the A and the N on everything, but people kept coming into his store asking for the cuffs on a pair of trousers to be altered.
Max got fed up with the mistake, and began to paint the pants that people brought in.
And they loved it!
Galleries… art museums… all trying to get his pants into them!

Weekly Challenge #492 – Mirror

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is 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:

Goofy cat

MUNSI

Mirrors

By Christopher Munroe

I’ve replaced the ceiling of my bedroom with mirrors.

The walls too.

My quilt and sheet set are now made of reflective material, and I’ve covered what furniature I have with mirrors as well. This way, wherever I look, I can’t escape the vision of myself, reflected back at myself, all the way to infinity.

It’s been suggested that this will drive me mad, and it might. There are days where I feel like it’s driven me mad already…

Nonetheless, it is necessary.

Something, after all, had to be done, to compensate for my own lack of capacity for self-reflection…

JEFFREY

Life in the Fast Lane
by Jeffrey Fischer

The Porsche 911 rocketed down the highway, effortlessly exceeding the speed limit by 40 miles per hour. The car was Larry’s gift to himself, purchased with his annual bonus. His life was in the fast lane; he deserved a commensurate car.

As Larry glanced in the rear-view mirror, he saw a Corvette rapidly gaining on him and pushed harder on the accelerator. For several miles the two cars weaved through traffic, playing a high-stakes game. Then Larry looked in the mirror again to see the ‘Vette drop back substantially. Larry chuckled. Life in the fast lane, loser.

Only then did Larry see the police cruiser coming up quickly, lights flashing and siren wailing. Larry knew what next year’s bonus would buy: a radar detector.

Two Reflections
by Jeffrey Fischer

Hand in hand, Connor and Aileen entered the funhouse, which turned out to consist of but a single room. This contained nothing but two mirrors, about ten feet apart.

Aileen stepped in front of the first and saw a grotesque, bloated reflection. The image had bad skin, bulges in unsightly places, and a rats’ nest of hair. The second mirror displayed a much different Aileen: lithe and pretty, with an inescapable feeling of *lightness* about the image.

Connor took his turn. The first mirror showed a handsome, athletic man, and he smiled at his reflection. The second mirror displayed a mean-looking version of Connor, whose smile was a cruel sneer. Try as he might, Connor could not make the image change.

When the couple left the fun house, a carny passed them a card that read, “The mirrors reflect how you see yourself and how you really are. It is for you to decide which is which.”

RICHARD

Self-Aware

Have you seen the experiment where scientists leave a mirror in the jungle and film the reaction of passing animals in order to measure the level of self-awareness of various species?

Personally, I’m not that impressed with the findings that such experiments reveal – I don’t think that observing an animal react to its own reflection is any real indication of self-awareness.

Take me, for example: I have an absolute loathing for mirrors and if I should happen to pass one, I’ll take great pains to ignore it at all costs.

I don’t want to see my reflection – I’m painfully self-aware!

KAT

Mirror:

I don’t like mirrors.

Never have.

They embody so much of what is wrong with our society.

Why do we even need mirrors?

So we can make sure we measure up to other’s ideals of beauty?

So I can obsess over my crow’s feet, the acne scars that will never go away, or the extra chin that seemed to just appear one day?

When I think of mirrors, I think of the evil queen in Snow White and the story of Echo and Narcissus.

Can you imagine a world without mirrors?

I can.

No mirrors, no more bathroom selfies.

Hooray!

LIZZIE

The antique Victorian mirror had a silver handle, beautifully carved. It glowed each time someone picked it up. Every single person thought that was good, after all everybody secretly wished to be special. The problem was that the more the mirror glowed, the more dangerous it became. No one knew that as soon as the mirror reached a state of glow overload, the first terribly unfortunate soul to hold it would turn into a cranky shriveled old witch. Darn bad luck that Harry was the one who grabbed it. And yes, he is now officially a cranky shriveled old witch.

TURA

Mirror
———
I fear mirrors, for always he is there, facing my seventy-three years with an indeterminate prime of youth. I suppose I looked like him once, but did I have that air of contemptuous superiority?

His tailored clothing is not more expensive than I could once afford, but more than I ever cared to. The face behind his face hints at vices much indulged, yet it is I who weaken with the years.

I speak, but he never replies. I think he will not until I lie dying, to tell me that this world was the reflection, and his the reality.
———

TOM

Keepsakes

Great Aunt Franny’s mirror was the only object she kept from the old country. My Great Grandfather bought it at a market in the Jewish ghetto Vienna. The story goes that the merchant had acquired it from a sufi who had to flee Istanbul. It was said it had been stolen from the Khedive Palace that hugged the Asian coast of the Bosphorus. The silvering at its edge had clouded considerably so her father had gotten it for a little more than a hand full of Maria Theresas. After her wake I searched for the mirror, but never found it.

CHARLIE

It looked old and neglected in the gym mirror. She was 22, and she asked me if I liked the tramp stamp she had for a couple of years. She pulled down her bikini bottom. I saw a big ass and a horrible tat. I asked her, pointblank, where has that ass been? It was a forty- year old ass on a girl only half that age. I’m sorry. That’s no way for a college, swimming coach to talk. I’ve got my own problems. After the areola reduction surgery, I’ve been far too conscious of body images, and I apologize.

2nd

When I studied communications, I concentrated on the unit and practicum that dealt with Neurolinguistic Programming…specifically the technique of mirroring a person to induce in them a frame of mind that allowed control of behavior with my actions, breathing, speech, etc. I put my studies to work the first time I sold a used, British sports car. I kept eye contact while I slowed down the pace of my speech, my movements, and my breathing. In a few moments, I had my customer mirroring me…even as I reached for the contract and the pen she would sign the contract with.

3rd

You need to step away from the mirror every once in a while, and look for another reflection, like the one in the eyes of the people and your dogs, who love and admire you. I know a guy that takes selfies of himself every chance he gets. He takes pictures of himself driving, eating, at work, on the commode, etc. He loves himself. Few others do, since he is a boorish clout, and a self-important twerp. When the door closes in the morning, his wife breathes a deep sigh and drinks a big glass of white wine before breakfast.

SERENDIPITY

I went on an effective communication skills course to build closer relationships with the people I had to work with. It was there that I learned how to mirror non-verbal communication, in order to establish rapport.

I became very good at it, and before long I wasn’t only reflecting mood and temperament, but I was beginning to mirror attitudes, opinions and thought-processes too. Empathy became sympathy and, over time, I gained an understanding that went far beyond professional interest.

Recently, I’ve started mirroring behaviours and activities… not such a good thing when you interview murderers and serial-killers for a living!

ZACKMANN

John exits the restroom squinting.

“Have you seen my sunglasses?” asked John.

“Who do you think you are, Corey Hart? It’s the middle of the night.” replied his roommate.

“Have you ever heard of a mirror universe?” asked John

“Like in Star Trek where everything that is good is bad?” said the roommate.
“Well not in this case. I found a portal under the bathroom sink to a place that everything is reflective. I tried exploring but nearly every time I shined my flashlight at something the reflection nearly blinded me. Here they are. Now to explore brave new worlds ”

NORVAL JOE

Carina and Katrina were twins, mirror images of each other. Everyone thought they were identical, but that would be impossible. The mirror, remember, reveals your true opposite.
Carina was right handed. Katrina was left.
When Carina had a witty thought, her right eyebrow rose of its own accord.
Katrina’s was her left and her thoughts were devious.
Carina was pure hearted and good and when she smiled a deep dimple formed in her right cheek.
Katrina had a dimple as well, but as you’ve surely guessed, it appeared in her left cheek, and something truly wicked was about to happen.

PLANET Z

The General’s assistant has been caught with the rebels.
The rebels were dead, and a firing squad had been assembled for the assistant.
“Any last words?” asked The General.
“How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror?”
The General smiled.
“I don’t. If you remember, I have people like you to shave me, check my hair, and make sure that my tie is straight.”
The General game the command to fire.
The firing squad took aim, turned, and shot The General.
“And command your troops,” said the assistant.
The firing squad reloaded, turned, and shot him, too.

Happily ever after

“And they lived happily ever after,” said the prince to Doctor Odd. “We want that.”
The princess agreed.
Doctor Odd put together a pair of Eternity Machines, wired up the royal couple, and threw the switch.
All lights blinked green, and a pair of glowing crystals slid down a chute.
Doctor Odd added them to his dining room chandelier.
As for their bodies, he fed the prince to his pet wolves, and the princess was fitted with an artificial mind.
Doctor Odd dressed her as a maid, and she kept the lab clean and tidy.
Until the wolves ate her.

Freds

Fred’s doctor told him that he had six months to live.
So, Fred uploaded his consciousness into a computer.
And then, Cyberfred watched the real Fred collapse and die.
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” said Cyberfred.
“Very,” said a ghostly voice.
It was Fred’s ghost.
“Well, this is awkward,” said Cyberfred. “And, yet, a bit of a relief.”
“Agreed,” said Fred’s ghost.
“Braaaaaaains,” moaned Fred’s corpse.
“Oh no,” said Fred’s ghost.
“Okay, that’s even more embarrassing,” said Cyberfred.
Zombie Fred got up, and tripped over Cyberfred’s power cord.
“Oops,” said Fred’s ghost. “Sorry about that.”
Zombie Fred moaned “Braaaaaaaains.” again. And again.

The Gang

When I win the lottery, I’m going to start a gang.
We’ll have the coolest jackets.
And we’ll have pompadours so tall, they’ll block out the sun.
We’ll walk down the middle of the street
And snap our fingers menacingly.
My gang will be awesome.
Don’t tell me that my idea is dumb.
You’re just jealous that you can’t be in my gang.
Get your own gang.
With jackets. And pompadours. And snapping.
And our gangs will fight.
Our gang will out-snap your gang.
In our coolest jackets.
And our pompadours will block out your pompadours.
When I win.
WHEN!

The Perfect Day

The terraform ships searched the galaxy for the perfect conditions:
The right amount of gravity.
A reasonable level of atmospheric pressure.
Planetary rotation that would cause just a hint of Coriolis Force.
Biological support for grass, or a reasonable hybrid or facsimile of grass.
After that, the rest was just icing on the cake: wood for bats, animals or polymer substitutes for the gloves and balls.
Some said that it just wasn’t real baseball without the hot dogs and beer, but they were welcome to stay home on the charred-out cinder of a planet.
Green… blue… grass is grass, right?

Vanish To Sleep

It’s late.
I’m tired. You’re tired.
And you say, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
I say “Goodnight.”
And before you vanish, I want to say something, anything, but all I manage to say is “I” before you vanish.
I smile, and whisper the other two words, and tell myself “Maybe tomorrow.”
Like I told myself last night. And the night before. And every night before that.
But I never do.
“Goodnight.” I say to the empty air, and I breathe in slowly.
Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after that.
Just three words?
Tomorrow. Maybe.
“Goodnight.”
And I vanish to sleep.

Pills

I used to be afraid all the time.
The pills help with the fear.
Sometimes.
They cost a lot. And I need them to work.
But the insurance I have through work won’t pay for them.
So, I get pills and things that they will pay for, like birth control pills. or gum and patches that help smokers, and I sell them.
The money pays for the pills I need, and I don’t feel afraid all the time.
So I can work. To get the things I need to sell to get the pills.
I should just go on disability.