Devils despise the rule of The Lord, but there are unwilling servants among the angels, too.
They sat on a park bench, a malcontent seraphim and one of the damned.
“Did you bring it?” growled the devil.
The angel took out a bundle and unwrapped it, revealing a shiny iron bar.
“From right under Peter’s nose.”
The devil pulled out another iron bar, rusty and pitted.
“Let’s make them sing,” he said.
The devil and angel picked up their iron bars and swung them at each other.
The Universal Bell rang louder than existence, and the stars began to fade.
How Do You Write 100 Word Stories #42
Many folk have send in their childhood alphabet block spelling out how do you Tom write a 100 word story
To be a successful author you got to stay relatively fit. That is why I have taken to running with a typewriter. Got this 50 pound Royal with glass windows in the side. In six week I’ve got up to 50 feet. Its not the distance it’s the white light of pain that shoots through your spine and those headaches that make you want to punk. And the benefits of a good work out. I’ve added ankle and wrist weights, its cut the distance to 10 feet, but I’m pacing myself. My goal is a IBM 360 on stadium bleachers
The Women Who Dance With Frogs
Come with me to the docks
On the edge of the swamp
To see the women who dance with frogs.
Through the reeds, Through the weeds
Can you see?
Watch the women who dance with frogs.
Hear the music of the croaks
As the women get soaked
Why are there women who dance with frogs?
Gathered up in their sacks
Go the frogs, tasty snacks!
Feast the women who dance with frogs.
Here they come! Here they come!
Hop away! Hop away!
Do not stay!
And we shall live to dance another day.
With the women who dance with frogs.
How Do You Write 100 Word Stories #41
Many folk have won at Scrabble using how do you tom write a 100 word story
I’ve got a secret. Promise not to tell, cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye. I’m dyslexic. And not just screwed up with letters I got the number thing also. Probably the most trying thing about writing 100 word stories and having dyslexia is I tended to drop prefixes. The eds, the letter s, words that need an ing, My first draft (sometime my 8th) look like they were written by a Lithuanian plumber. Sorry to any Lithuanian plumber listening today I bet your grammatical structure is exemplary.
The other hassle is counting to 100.
Weekly Challenge #253 – “In my happy place”
Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Fifty-Three, 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 “In my happy place”
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
Tom
In my happy place there are racks and racks of ordinance. I go there to fire off a few thousand rounds. In the real world I do my best to be a beacon of unconditional love. My job is to reassure, divert self-recrimination, say everything is going to be OK. I absorb anger, spill out the milk of human kindness by the truckload. To renewth my soul I go to my happy place a free fire zone where things go boom. Infinite ammo with infinite moving targets. I know it puerile, but it helps me get me through the day.
Zackmann
There’s a bald guy parked on the corner saying “Hey kid, your a reader aren’t you? Got a free
audio book, right here. It will put you in your happy place, well actually mine will more likely
make you scream and grab your reproductive parts but you know how it goes.”
“Is that a good idea ?” I ask.
“Dare you to try it”
“Just one book”
“You’ll be back”
I don’t like the harm caused by other products marketed this way but I am happy to see the
podiobooks.com truck after every rodeo and concert.
David
My mind went dark. My heart beat stopped. My life bled dry. I was a lost within my own labyrinth of lust and when I awoke I was driven to kill. In the slaughter. In the murder. I found my new happy spot. It was the only thing to satisfy the pain that dwelt in my heart that never was to beat again. I did not ask to be turned. She was hot. She was willing and she was drunk; I had thought. The kissing was fantastic. The petting was mind blowing. The biting was intoxicating. Exhilarating. Painful. Then excruciating!
Danny
Once upon a time, while in my happy place, I was skipping down a path dreaming of a warm embrace. Then I suddenly tripped, falling flat on my face. Now, this was totally screwing with my mantra, this is supposed to be a happy place. Time to regroup; figure out where my happy place is, because I’m certain it cannot be found in a courtroom suing the owner of the sidewalk. So I went to the store, picked up some cement, and fixed the sidewalk myself. Now I’m back in my happy place, skipping down the path, dreaming of a warm embrace.
Terrazabyte
Blind dates always bring out the best in people. We have but a few hours to express our most endearing qualities. We show superlative manners and unsurpassed sensitivity when listening to family stories or thirty minute narratives about broken relationships.
Apparently two hours of this communiqué is all that is within me. I get to the second date but never to a third. I don’t know if it’s because the second date shows a truer view of myself or that my doctors insist on being there to unlock my jacket and medicate me… to keep me in my happy place.
I have a special place that I travel to when all that surrounds me is heavy with worry and unrest.
Every so often, this quest to reach this spot will take days to complete and yet on other days I find my trip was but a mere step away.
In each of these excursions to come across this unique area, the physical distance to traverse has always been identical; however, the directions to reach there are never the same.
Unknown to any map and never a picture taken, its bliss and beauty are exclusive to one although everyone can visit.
TJ
Emily has paste in her hair. Steven put it there.
Johnny laughed. Janie tried to help.
Ricky’s in the corner sobbing because
Jeremy threw a toy train at him.
I know this because Susie
Came running up to tell me.
Her developing sense of justice
Demands some satisfaction.
It seems like one child trips and falls,
Twelve people text each other about it
But no one helps him up.
So for me, this space, right here,
this 30-inch by 30-inch by 20-inch cave
underneath my desk, my first day of teaching?
This is the happiest place I can be now.
Norval Joe
I didn’t have much of a family life as a child. My father hated my mother and my mother hated me. Neither let me have a moment of happiness, if they could help it. So when she came into my life there was a wall built up around my heart I wasn’t quick to take down. But she snuck her way in and tore those walls down and filled me with happiness unlike anything I could imagine. When she walked out, she left a hole in my happy place. The joy poured out of my heart and left only pain.
Planet Z
A letter arrived at Utopia Colony from Disney.
It was a cease-and-desist order.
“We have the rights to ‘The Happiest Place On Earth’ and, by spending a lot of money on our Disneyland, feel that Utopia Colony infringes upon our registered trademark by actually creating the happiest place.”
Utopia Colony disagreed. “We have no crime, sickness, poverty, or pollution. We’ve earned that Happiest Place title. Come here and see for yourselves.”
So, the lawyers arrived. And the Utopians killed them all and used their bodies for fertilizer.
(You see, in Utopia Colony, killing annoying and unhappy outsiders isn’t a crime.)
Floodwaters
How do we make our coffee taste so good?
Sure, we spend a lot of time with the beans.
But the real secret is in the water.
You see, this water comes from The Fountain Of Youth.
Yes. The actual Fountain Of Youth.
Ponce DeLeon actually discovered it.
Then he sipped it… and died of young age.
It’s too powerful to be sipped untreated.
But if you dilute it a bit and boil it, well…
It still tastes somewhat pungent.
However, with the right beans, that pungency becomes a delicious aroma.
It brings us good health.
And healthy profits, too.
How Do You Write 100 Word Stories #40
Many folk have created haikus
In sring one hun derds
Ga ther up on the white leaves
why tom why not Yup
As an author you can’t forget where you came from. I came from emigrants so dead set on become Americans they chucked all of their European culture for … and that is the dead silence at the end of the question what is the American Prize? In terms of my Germany lineage there is that Hun/nazi thing. In terms of my Irish lineage one had to overcome that Irish and blacks need not apply. My grandparents bought my parents respectably and my parents bought a home in the suburbs. I come from a place on the edge of the city I don’t belong anywhere.
Bananas will protect you
Every morning, I grab a banana from the kitchen and head to work.
The banana is there to protect me.
From what?
I have no willpower. I cannot resist the breakfast shops along the way to work.
But the moment I catch the smell: donuts… kolaches… breakfast tacos…
I peel the banana and take a bite.
Instead of being tempted by the unhealthy fare, I eat my banana and make it into work.
As I toss the peel into the trash, I look up and see…
Someone brought in a box of donuts.
(That’s when I pull out my sledgehammer.)
How Do You Write 100 Word Stories #39
Many folk have created modern dance step which convey the sprite of how do you tom write a 100 word story
When you write enough 100 word stories you start to notice a pattern. I think its because their small you get a larger data set to work with. For the most part they are funny stories set in the somewhat mythical land of my youth peppered with lost Germanic roots. They are reflections seen in Kid-vision. They seems to speak of a longing for justice and fairness that I guess must be lacking in the world I see around me. They are simpler and revel in immediate gratification, no deferred satisfaction. Then they’re the stories with zombies, much better stuff.
How Do You Write 100 Word Stories #38
Many folk have sent New Jersey sand paints but I cant read a word they say
The must dangerous demon to the creative process is self-editing. Not the processes of selection and refinement. I’m talk about discount it because it not good enough, its been done before, its childish, not literary enough, people with laugh, my mom with shack her head at her idiot son. It creeps in when you find your smiling at the words in front of you. It definitely has a voice like your fifth grade English teacher. Sister Mary Retribution, “ Mr. Marquette this is not an appropriate topic.” I use to listen to that voice but now I listen to another, mine.