Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Ninety-Seven, 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 Return
And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:
Thomas Pitre
Botgirl Questi
Whiskey Day
Tura
Zackmann
Charlie White
Tom
Chris Munroe
Fourworlds
Chris the Nuclear Kid
Steven the Nuclear Man
Dave
Norval Joe
TJ
Planet Z
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
The more people see this on Google Plus, Facebook, and Twitter – the more explaining you’ll have to do with your loved ones, coworkers, and parole officers.
THOMAS
He had been saving aluminum cans for over twenty-five years. His yard, carport and garage were full of plastic bags and boxes of soda and beer cans. His yard and garage were also full of insects and mice because he never washed the beer and sugary pop out of the containers. He realized he could throw anything into the yard to dispose of it in minutes. The yard was a dark, moving sea of creatures, all hungry and buzzed on the sugar. He meant to return the cans, but had more fun watching and listening to the symphony of consumption.
##
The return trip was uneventful. He spent most of the ride with his head in a book, sometimes dozing, sometimes pretending to doze when the woman insisted on telling him about her Christmas and her big church.
He was not sure when he was supposed to get off the bus. He had forgotten where he started his ride. Lately, his memory was worse. He rummaged in his bag and pockets to find a clue to his starting point. Every year he took the same trip to his brother’s house and was lost on the bus for days at a time.
BOTGIRL
“It’s so strange to be back again, Night said.”
“How long has it been?” I asked.
“Jesus,” she sighed. It must be two years.”
“Two years?” I mused. “Wow! You never snuck in that whole time?”
“Nope,” she shrugged. “Night’s been dead to me.”
“That’s funny,” I said, talking to myself as much as to her.
“Funny?” she asked. “What funny about being dead to myself?”
“Funny you were very alive to me that whole time,” I replied.
“Alive in your imagination,” she said.
“Where else do we live?” I asked.
We sat for a while, contemplating the virtual sunset.
WHISKEY DAY
Five days. Twelve showers. Three bottles of vodka. But she could still smell them.
Floating in the bath with her ears below water, she could still hear them.
No amount of scrubbing would remove the midnight dirt from under her nails. No amount of spitting weakened the taste of blood.
She’d planned every detail; thought of every step. It had all been so smooth. No trace and no witnesses.
Except for the hand on her shoulder. The whispers. The shadows that stalked her every move.
She’d thought she would finally be rid of them.
But they returned. Again and again.
TURA
Fighting dragons. Tricking thieves. Outsmarting wizards. Finally,
discovering the long-lost treasure. Then the return: frozen wastes,
burning deserts, jungles of festering corruption, pirates, wars.
Ragnar overcame them all.
At last, he arrived home. He strode into the Great Hall of Books.
“I, Ragnar XLVII, have returned! Behold! The Book of the Ekskybalauron
of Pandiculatory Awakenings, lost since Ragnar I perished working its
magic!”
The Librarian examined the book, then peered severely at Ragnar over
her half-moon spectacles. “This is three thousand and twenty-six
years, four months, and ten days overdue. I’m afraid there’s going to
be a rather large fine.”
CHARLIE
I inched myself along the edge. The ledge I was on was narrow. I was
scared. I put a plant out to get some sun, but the plant moved away
from my hand along the ledge.
I stretched to get it but it was just out of my reach. I had to crawl
out. The window closed and locked behind me. I couldn’t open it. I
hoped my next door neighbors had their window open. I found myself
moving slowly. At the corner, the ledge ended. I could not turn
around. I found myself at the point of no return.
###
The presents? I loved them all.
I did want to get into the correct mind set to return things though.
I did return some white beets to the grocery supplier because they
were chard beyond recognition. You know, Swiss chard?
I did imbibe some on the holiday but I stopped before the PINT of no return.
Can great leaders return? I mean, like, can Napoleon return to his
place of birth? Of Corsican…
It is nothing like that cow dreading the prodigal son’s return,
though. After all, he was the fated calf!
Happy New Year everyone out there!
TOM
The door opened onto the room. When you use the key it always returns you to the room. But, where actually was this room. Some believe it was located somewhere off of old Highway 666. Others will tell you it’s outside of our reality pitched between two opposing points of reference. As I look out the window I see a most ubiquitous horizon dessert plateau only broken by the backside of a neon motel sign, Oddly enough I don’t see my name in the arrangement of letters. No angle, three, tom. Psychics in flux A mirrored universe that doesn’t mirror.
FOURWORLDS
First meeting:
Mark dared me to walk over to the waitress and greet her by name as if we’d met before.
I said, “Hi Nancy.”
She said, “I don’t know you. How do you know my name?”
I mumbled something about being a friend of Mark’s and retreated back to the bar with my tail between my legs.
First argument:
I said, “You always say that.”
She said, “I don’t always say anything. We only met three weeks ago.”
Six months later:
You have to marry a woman like that, right? If she’ll have you. She did.
MUNSI
I’m bringing sexy back.
You see, I received sexy for Christmas, and while it’s lovely it doesn’t really… go with my lifestyle.
I’m more an “awkwardly charming” person.
I hope they accept it. I don’t have the receipt but it’s immediately post Christmas and I’m sure they’re getting a lot of attributes returned.
They might only give me store credit, and that’s fine. I’ll exchange it for little more talent to add to the meager pile I have.
Either way, I’ll be bringing sexy back.
It was fun to play with, but I have no use for it long term…
STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN
I knew it was time when I couldn’t pretend my hair was just… thinning. When she looked at me.., differently. When she left me after Christmas, saying I’d… changed.
I left the Lexus by the side of the road. The white noise of the waves washed over my ears. The moon hung gibbous in the clear winter sky. My bulging eyes could adapt.
I peeled off my poly-blend suit, kicked the leather loafers over the edge.
I cried out in a croaking voice over the ocean.
From the waves came a thousand voices in an answering cry welcoming me home.
CHRIS THE NUCLEAR KID
King of ice,
king of snow.
King of Christmas and mistletoe.
Every year I hope to see,
you crouched before my Christmas tree.
I hope to see you stacking gifts,
just beneath my Christmas tree.
Every Christmas eve I cheer,
for I know you will be stopping here.
I want to see you so I wait
Every year I wait and wait,
but I guess it is not my fate.
Despite my efforts,
I missed my chance,
to see your reindeer prance and prance
I missed this year so now I yearn,
for the next Christmas when you return.
DAVE
On the day of His return, all were separated. The unrighteous were ushered
to His left. The unfortunate pleaded for mercy as they poured from the
deity’s hands into a floating lake of fire. Cheering roared from a few of
the elect for those who received damnation. Confusion replaced cheering
when some passed through the lake of fire and came out the other side
cleansed, renewed and reborn. The hypocrites boasted they did great things
in the name of their god but they too were dropped into the lake. The
remaining righteous few wept for those lost to the fire.
NORVAL JOE
Howard leaned a step out to the side to try and see past the woman ahead of him to the distant counter.
He knew he had to be careful though. If he stepped too far to the side, the person behind him would move forward and squeeze him right out of the line. It had happened to him only the day before and he had to start all over.
He got to take a step forward and had the sudden hope he might just make it to the return counter in time to get money for next year’s Christmas presents.
TJ
ADVENTURES in ONLINE DATING – Dimwits
As these adventures have moved forward I’ve found trust dying inside a little. So many of these dates have been like that first Christmas morning you ran down and found a packet of gymsocks under the tree. I mean, I haven’t even shared all of them. Some were so outside the realm I can’t even… OK, so my profile insists on “educated.” What eMusicalChairs assumes by that is “learned how to pay for the service.” Gina, for instance, watched the “Real Housewives” religiously. Peggy’s a fan of “Twilight.” And SanDee essentially agrees with that “100 Word Story” guy about politics.
———————————————
ADVENTURES in ONLINE DATING – Tracey
I’d been on 20 dates and I’d earned a session with eMusicalChairs eCounselor, Tracey, to assess how my Adventures in Online Dating were progressing. Tracey welcomed me into her spacious office and after a few moments of small talk she pulled up my comment section. Her brow furrowed. “It says here you are genial and affable… oh, sorry, that’s generally laughable .. you are judgmental, cheap, provincial, superficial, shallow, mean, hidebound, leering, doesn’t return compliments, you’re self-involved, inattentive and confrontational.” “Wait… I’m leering and inattentive?” She shrugged. “Different dates, different assessements.” “I see….Well, would you go out with me?” “NO!”
PLANET Z
Lady Northgate was often seen trying on new dresses and shoes, but she only owned two sets of clothes at a time.
She’d wear one outfit while taking the other back to exchange.
Then, she’d try on clothes for most of the day before settling on an outfit to buy.
The next day, she’d wear that to the store to exchange what she was wearing the day before.
This went on for twenty years, until her death last week.
She was buried in one outfit, and left instructions for the other to be returned for store credit.
(Just in case.)
What No comments. No one saying the weekly challenge would be less interesting without the rants and the wondering if it is Bailey’s creamer or just Bailey’s in the coffee.