Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Books!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Freereed
Double Books
1986) hide that the company was siphoning off funds to pay for the boss’ girlfriend and illegitimate son. hide the tens of thousands going to the fair haired brother’s cocaine habit.
1990) finance holidays for the homophobic marian brother and his ex-cop boyfriend. that came from the Mother Theresa fund.
Triple Books
2004) the sister’s foundation owing £27,000 end of year, I stood apopleptic in the office…
who’s gonna pay this bill? the blessed mother?? Sister Agnes smiled.
the money appeared in a check Christmas eve morning signed by the alcholic gambling addict passed out in the kitchen.
Zackmann
Are you tired of people telling you about well written books you must read. Since Steven
King’s “On Writing” recommends you should read well written books but also poorly written
books, I recommend “Moon People” by Dale M Courtney at least read the first page. Maybe
only the first page. This is a book better to own than read. I love loaning people my copy to see
the look on their face like that of a toddler eating a lemon wedge. I know only one other person
who finished reading Moon People. Best of all there are sequels.
I’m a NaNoWriMo failure and I really need some help.
I’m in love books and writing but i can’t write myself.
I’ve tried listening to I Should Be Writing, Irreverent Muse, Litopia, and DRS
But how to write past chapter two is something I can’t guess.
I’ve tried reading the classic right before bed
I can’t concentrate on them so I’m still not well read.
I’m a NaNoWriMo failure and I really need some help.
Almost November. Quiting might be a sin.
Soon will be November and time to try again.
Tom
“here is the books.”
“No” calmly said Arnesto
“Here are the books.”
“R?”
“No”
“A-R-E”
“ever!”
“That’s Whatever.”
“This sucks.
Why can’t I just Fram the skeen?”
Marie flicked a forefinger
Across the desk. A cloud of Oxygen
electrons pulled rigid into a glowing square
tiny animated glyphs danced in a row
“Better.” Said Marie
“If you’re going to be a scholar
you have to master non – ani – alphs”
Marie raised a finger, at least that usage
hadn’t changed in 600 years. The book
said Marie was the one who would keep
the language alive.
Cervantes had his doubts.
Steven
“So, you’ve had some stories published?” I hate the old, quavering
sound of my voice.
“Yes, grandpa.” I still think of him as the boy, though he’s older
than me when I’d married Martha. He’s holding his book behind his
back. “I’ve got a chapbook of short stories.”
“Oh,” I say, and nod. “Good job. Can I read them?”
“They’re… not really your speed.” I see the knife and blood on the
cover. “Thanks, though. Gotta go, grandpa.”
I shake my head as he leaves, and try to decide between the Poppy Z.
Brite novel or the Clive Barker one.
TJ
Book burnings were almost quaint by the 2030s. Most books were eBooks by
then, and no one wanted to burn their otherwise appropriately named
Kindles. People would gather in cirles and download a Bible or a Quran,
or Dianetics, or Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, and then with a
flourish, the payment still processing in some cases, they would delete
the book. Followed by awkward reassurances that they’re sure they wish
to delete the file. This proved disappointing, somehow, so at the same
time, they also burned the books in question in effigy. Naturally,
whatever the book, Amazon made a killing.
Almo
The last rays of sun bounced off the wrecked cars, the burned out buildings, the flecks of falling snow.
Gilbert bent into the bitter wind and walked. He spotted a building with a light in the window. Warmth.
He was pleased to discover a library.
He moved along the shelves and picked out several books. A thin Hemingway. A legal tome. Birds of North America.
He cuddled in one of the overstuffed chairs.
Then Gilbert carefully arranged the books near his feet on the marble floor. He lit them, and rubbed his hands in the glow of the building fire.
Norval Joe
Jake ran from sixth period english, his notebooks tucked under his arm; science was on the other side of the school. He rounded a corner to a narrow hallway, straight into Mark.
Mark laughed and pushed him back.
Silently, Doug had slipped behind Jake and slapped the books out of his grip. They splattered to the ground, loose pages scattering.
At the end of the hall, Janice appeared. “Do it, Jake,” she said.
Tears of embarasment burned Jake’s eyes as he gathered his notes.
“Do it, Jake,” Mark mimicked.
“Ok,” Jake whispered. “Pest, be gone.”
In a flash, Mark disappeared.
Justin
In my hands is the last paper book.
All paper and trees are gone. Giant air cyclers dot the landscape, converting CO2 into oxygen, along with the ocean plants.
The cyclers were built when the trees died.
The trees died when an overzealous ebook reader manufacturer released nanobots into the world to destroy the paper books. Ironically, he did it to save the trees, but of course, something went wrong.
The nanobots were eventually destroyed.
I tear a page from the book and wipe.
They’ve made a substitute for trees, but they’ve yet to make a good toilet paper replacement.
Planet Z
I have no idea how some of these celebrity chefs make ends meet.
I mean, there’s several that have endorsement deals in the millions, but the B-listers look like they’re bright in the spotlight, but their restaurants aren’t filling tables anymore.
After a wide undercover investigation, we found the reason why: they cheated.
Cheap ingredients.
Tax dodges.
Paying illegal aliens to work in the kitchens.
Now, there’s a new show on the Food Network about bad accounting practices in the restaurant business called “Cooking The Books.”
These B-lister criminal chefs all agreed to star in it.
Fame’s such a bitch.