Weekly Challenge #663 – Irritation



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:

I got your back...

LIZZIE

Reflect and Engage

Life would never be the same. He was leaving everything behind. He wanted that, but he feared it as well.
As he approached the exit, he looked back and he saw the carnivore plants he had created and grown. They stood motionless and eerie behind the glass wall.
For a split second, he wished he could give up and go back to doing his magic and growing the most unusual plants. But he couldn’t. So, he left.
A week later, he received an urgent appeal. He had to go back. The plants, in a fit of anger, were eating everyone.

JERRY

Obsolete ideas still engage the mind.

To pounce on a new idea sometimes call for some mental gymnastics and some time to reflect.
When you engage in this sport it is required that you have a support group ready to catch you if you fail to consider all the possible consequences.
Especially those actions that could do permanent damage.
The girls had not considered what doing the hokey pokey could do to their body and mind.

Put your left foot in
Your left foot out
Your left foot in
And shake it all about

It is easier said than done. 

RICHARD

New Year Resolution

‘Engage With Girls Easier!’

The strapline emblazoned across the top of the flyer immediately caught my attention.

Normally, junk mail goes straight in the bin, but my luck with girls lately had been pretty appalling, mainly due to my social ineptitude.  Maybe, with the New Year, it was time to make a resolution to change.

‘Reflect on your chat up technique’, the flyer said, ‘Do you get tied up in mental gymnastics, then awkwardly pounce and scare girls off?’

Don’t cling to those obsolete practices, sign up now!

‘(Only £250 a session)’

I crumpled up the flyer… Maybe next year.

SERENDIPIDY

Girls who do gymnastics are so much more fun than regular folks.

Their general stamina and fitness keeps them going when others would give up and succumb to pain and exhaustion; and their flexibility and resilience lends itself to all sorts of interesting contortions.

Of course, when I snap your limbs at ninety degrees in the wrong direction, and twist your joints until they grind and pop, even the most accomplished gymnast is going to scream in pain.

But I like the pretty shapes they make so much…

And I think artistic impression scores far more highly, than technical ability.

TOM

My Own Private Health Plan

“Welcome to Reflect Engage your new totally immersive health plan. You can now tailor a health regiment to busy life style and questionable physical abilities. Your first step on the long road to optimum wellness starts with a mild pin-prick,” delivered the robotic voice. Bernie flexed against the five point restraints. “I just came in for an aspirin,” he addressed the glowing screen of the Med Tech 105. “Aspirin is a level one drug. A full admistrative implant will been needed.” A telescoping armature impacted his upper arm. “Thank you for choosing FC health solutions.” Bernie could feel the burn 

 JON

Higher, Faster, Stronger

By

Jon DeCles

It is an obsolete notion that females are not equal to males, but I must still reflect on the differences.

In gymnastics a female must pounce on her chance at competition because she reaches her peak of performance at an earlier age than a male. Girls must engage with the sport quickly and fiercely, and their careers may fly away when they are seventeen or eighteen.

It is easier for Boys, who can remain in top form at times until their mid-twenties.

I am hoping that will even out as athletes continue to push defiantly against the boundaries of age.

TURA

The Menunna-Qurud is the most ancient text known from the region that some thousands of years later would be called Sumer. Written in ophioglyphs believed to have been obsolete even at the time of writing, it describes either gymnastic exercises or religious devotions, or perhaps some hybrid (as evidenced in our own time by the practices the Hindoos call yoga). But they defy translation, unless one accepts Professor Challenger’s scarcely to be believed thesis, that they do not refer to the human figure, but to a loathsome and degenerate race of humanity, hybridised with monstrous creatures of the deep.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s father paced the room and then turned on him like he was about to pounce. “Tell me the truth, son. Did Linoliumanda see you fly?”
He tried to come up with a lie, but decided it would be easier to come clean. “I’m pretty sure she saw me.”
His father begged, “Can you convince her it was something else she saw? Maybe, that you were just practicing gymnastics.”
Billbert smiled, sheepishly. “That would be hard to do, Dad. She actually flew with me. She thought I had magic.”
“Girls?” Mr. Spankinflysher said. “They get us into so much trouble.”

PLANET Z

Romanov coached gymnastics somewhere on the other side of the Iron Curtain.Nobody’s sure of exactly where… he arrived without papers, and we’ve never figured out his accent.And he refuses to talk about his past..But what he’s able to get the girls to do, well, it’s amazing.The power, the balance, the speed, the grace, and the precision.Things beyond the capability of ordinary humans.”Just takes dedication and motivation,” says Romanov, and he claps his hands for the next routine.Did you see that? Did their eyes flash red?Nah, couldn’t be. I must be imagining things.



Weekly Challenge #662 – Irritation



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:

Tinny

LIZZIE

Christopher’s general state of irritation annoyed everyone. The temple was supposed to bring inner piece. Yet, Christopher’s constant sarcastic remarks made the community wish they could do something about it.
“The statue. Pathetic. A feeble attempt at being modern.”
The members shrugged.
“That little stupid heart at the so-called feet of the statue. Idiotic.”
The others looked away.
“And the colors. Pink or something.”
It was purple.
So, the others grabbed Christopher and locked him in the catacombs.
He would join the other one they h

RICHARD

Pop!

Bubble wrap: The single most ill-advised invention in history.

I know it’s great for packaging and protection; but like all plastics, when it’s thrown out, it’s an environmental nightmare.

But that’s not why I hate it.

I hate bubble wrap purely because of its therapeutic properties… That wonderful sense of satisfaction and well-being experienced by spending a pleasant half hour, popping all those little bubbles.

It’s a wonderful stress reliever and thoroughly relaxing…

For the person doing the popping.

But, if like me, you have to put up with the resident popper, it’s the greatest irritation known to man!

SERENDIPIDY

Irritation… That simple, but hugely effective technique for breaking down your adversary, with little outlay in terms of effort. 

Take the Chinese water torture: A single drip, repeated, time and time again – a small irritation that develops over time into an all-consuming, soul-destroying instrument of despair.

But I’m not going to go to such extremes.

I’m simply going to dial your number. Wait until you answer. Then hang up.

Time, and time again. 

It’s torture.

And you won’t dare let it ring, in case your wife answers the phone.

And I tell her all about your affair.

TURA

Irritation

———

Jane and I were identical twins. Our mother would dress us exactly the same, which annoyed us both, but when we were old enough, we could go shopping separately and find we’d bought the same things. Picking out clothes for the day, we’d have to arrange together who would wear what if we wanted to be different.
But the most irritating thing was that when we were out somewhere, elderly women would come and coo over us, “Are you twiiiins? How cuuuuute!”
Eventually we found the perfect answer. We would reply solemnly, “We were triplets, but one of us died.”

JON

Mindless Unawareness

 By

 Jon DeCles

There are a lot of things that irritate me in these times when I have to flush the toilet after humans, but the chief irritation is with humans who pile tableware, i.e., knives, forks, and spoons, interleaved with the ceramic items, thereby achieving chips and cracks and the frequent breakage of our plates and cups and saucers. I explain to them why theymust not do that and they ignore me and continue to do it on a daily basis, destroying things that other people have worked hard to provide.

I saw on a poster that Devo is still performing.

Mystery

By

Jon DeCles

It was not the kind of mystery you solve, it was the kind of Mystery into which you are initiated, the kind that sometimes contains a sacrament, to which the Mystery provides a key of understanding, like the ritual cannibalism at the heart of the Catholic (most notably Roman) Mysteries.

But it led to the other kind of mystery when Detective Officer Alliente was called to discover exactly who the remains on the altar of the old church might be, and how and why the one kind of Mystery was being perverted into the other kind in the abandoned church.

TOM

In the last days of wonder                                                    

Sally in the time honored aspect of a kid sister was a complete irritation to her older sib Ann. She would materialize wherever Ann was meeting with her cadre. And much to her vexation none of her closest friend saw this as a problem. Some actually found the little brat enduring. Just as the whole matter was coming to a head, and quite suddenly Sally up and removes herself from Ann life. She fell into a life of deep study and contemplation. Try as she now did Ann could not get her sister attention. Be careful what you wish for.

JERRY

I felt annoyed.

I was becoming impatient.

You could even say I was slightly angry. 
It was not something that I could place my finger on.

It was just something that was restlessly moving around in the back of my mind.
Sort of like the empty space where a tooth had been. 
The space the very tip of your tongue finds time after time.
You worry with it, slipping you tongue into it without thinking.
Yes, that annoyed, impatient, and angry feeling was keeping me awake at night.
The question is what am I going to do about this irritation.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s father frowned. Was it disappointment, frustration, or irritation? “You have your powers already?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. When I wear a plastic grocery bag, I can fly. It’s no big deal, dad.”
“A plastic grocery bag?” his father asked but didn’t give him time to answer. “Eventually, you’ll probably be able to fly without it. It’s like training wheels.”
Billbert shrugged. “Okay.” The bag crinkled when he shifted.
His father’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t wear a bag to  Linoliumanda’s party, did you?”
Billbert swallowed.
His father gritted his teeth. “Please tell me. No one saw you fly. Right?”

PLANET Z

Fred was an irritant.So much so, he was forced to wear one of those Fire Diamond symbols on his shirt.You know, those diamond-shaped symbols with numbers that represent health hazards of chemicals and stuff.His flammability index was a 1. But most people are, really.His instability index was also a 1. Once again, most people are.And his health index was a 1. Prolonged exposure caused severe irritation and health hazards.People asked him what the symbol on his shirt meant, and he’d gladly explain it to them at length.And make them regret ever asking him.

Weekly Challenge #661 – Belt



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:

Derp

LIZZIE

The conveyor belt carried a collection of distorted torsos. They had been hanging at the exhibition dock for a few weeks.
“Is this what they’ll eat?”
The others nodded. “Ripe and packed with proteins, sir.”
“Don’t you think the meat is too ripe? How do you expect those damn humans to work properly if you give them this?”
The others looked alarmed.
“Sector 6 is proud to provide quality food. Would you like to taste the meat?”
“Well, no. You taste the meat.”
Ward 2 became packed with Sector 6 personnel for a few damn weeks.

RICHARD

Belt up and brace

It’s always disconcerting when the seat belt sign comes on without warning.

When that gentle chime sounds for no apparent reason, your first instinct is to look around for reassurance, which is rarely forthcoming: The stewardess gives you a tight-lipped smile as she makes her way purposely to the front, “Probably just a precaution, sir.”

Your ears strain for changes in engine tone; every unexpected noise makes you clench the seat arms more tightly; you pray it’s just turbulence.

Realisation dawns: You’re in a four hundred ton metal tube, seven miles up… 

And there’s nothing at all you can do.

ALEX

What does Santa keep in his belt? I mean it MUST be a utility belt – just like Batman.
How could one man crack every security code, pick every lock, eat every cookie, and sneak away unnoticed? 
One thing I’m sure of: Santa packs the adult sized diapers.  No, not just for him!  For the reindeer as well! 
Think about it.  If he travels all around the world and stops at every house, there is no time for a pit stop.  
When was the last time you read of a family waking up to a jolly man pooing in their bathroom? 

TOM

A matter of comfort                                                            

Timmy didn’t like belts. The edges cut across his hips and made him feel massively uncomfortable. Mom being a good Mom got Timmy a pair of suspenders. This suited Timmy just fine. Through the rest of his life he went beltless. There is a joke about a man who were a belt and suspenders. What do you call this man:  insecure. Timmy never thought this was very funny. In the 70’s Timmy wore rainbow suspenders. When he finally passed away the fools at the funeral home dress him up with a belt. His friends removed. Helook much better

JON

Going Around

 by

 Jon DeCles

Sometimes inconsistencies are beneficial.  We have the Asteroid Belt and the Kuiper Belt, but we have the Rings of Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Haumea.There seems to be something deep and psychological about circular objects, and particularly related to the female of the species.  Both rings and belts have been associated with marriage rites.Collars, another circular object, seem to be associated with ownership and slavery for the most part.  You read about rings of power, about power belts, but you don’t read about collars of power.  You read about dog collars and leashes or collars with bells for animals.

SERENDIPIDY

Belt up… It’s going to be a bumpy ride! 

In fact, I can guarantee that you’ll be screaming right from the moment we start! From there onwards, it’s going to be a roller coaster journey that will test you to the limit, physically, mentally and emotionally. And no matter how much you beg and plead to stop, this is a one way trip. There’s no getting off until we’re done.

At least you’ll have company for the ride, because this is one nightmare trip that every one of us will be taking together.

Welcome, to the ride… Of your life!

JERRY

Arthur pulled the knife from his belt and proceeded to carve a pentagram into the abdomen that had been rude enough to brush against him causing half his whiskey sour to splash on the bar. Not that it mattered. That was possibly the worst whiskey sour he had ever tasted in his life and he had tasted many. It was a matter of principle. Unless you provided examples to those around you you could expect to be bumped into daily and with out so much as by your leave. 

Well, it was time to move on to the next bar.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert frowned. “How is not smelling bad a superpower?”
“Think about it,” his father said. “Eustacia never has to brush her teeth or use deodorant. And have you ever noticed how often she sprays Fabreeze where ever she goes, especially after eating her seven bean casserole?”
“She farts fabreeze?”
“Don’t worry, son. Once you’ve gotten a few years as a super hero under your belt, it will all make sense.” He put a hand on Billbert’s shoulder. “It may be a few more years before your powers show up, though.”
“Well. To tell you the truth, Dad. I can fly.”

PLANET Z

I remember when my Dad would take off his belt and beat me with it.
“Just wait until your father gets home!” my mother would say.
And he’d get home. And he’d take off his belt. And he’d beat me with it.
So, I did the thing that any normal kid would do.
I destroyed all of my father’s belts.
“What are you going to beat me with now?” I’d say.
He beat me with one of my belts.
So, I destroyed all of my own belts, too.
I destroyed every belt.
And that’s how I became Batman’s nemesis: Beltman.

Weekly Challenge #660 – Polar



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:

Nardo under the tree

LIZZIE

“A polar front is approaching…” and I didn’t hear anything else.
Nowadays, it’s either too cold or too hot, too windy, too stormy, too something, too whatever.
The polar front is just another weather (aka stressful) event that comes for a visit to this quiet little country in the South of Europe.
The weather website mentions temperatures of 15C (that is 59F).
I think that’s OK. 15 degrees is not that polar.
Now that I think of it… if it starts to snow here, I’ll have to write something else about how silly I was for believing the Internet.

RICHARD

Attraction

They say opposites attract. I’m not so sure.

When I met my wife, we had plenty in common: Similar musical tastes, a shared passion for the same kinds of movies, and a range of interests we jointly pursued.

Now, according to her, we’ve somehow become polar opposites.

She’s an angel – I’m the devil incarnate. She’s always right – I’m always in the wrong. Her needs are paramount – mine, unimportant. And all her family and friends are wonderful, special people – mine are a bunch of losers and reprobates.

But I’ve learned one thing…

Opposites certainly do not attract!

SERENDIPIDY

I fed him to the polar bearsTo supplement their dietAnd soon I’ll do the same with youUnless you promise to stay quietKids really should be seen, not heardIf they want to keep their skinOr else it goes to the tigers‘ denTo stop them getting thinYour sister gave the lions a treatAll minced up for their teaThat’s what you get when you try it onAnd answer back to meSo let that be a lessonTo other children tooBe on your best behaviourWhen mum works at the zoo!

JERRY

Johnny looked out the window of his bedroom. 

Across the snow covered yards. 

Across the snow covered field. 

Across the line of leafless trees with snow outlining their branches. 

It was after midnight but something far away had awakened him. 

The iron tracks at the railroad crossing stretched north past the horizon. 

To the south a distant light wavered coming nearer. 

It was a powerful black engine with white steam poring into the sky above it. 

The passenger cars followed behind. 

Johnny smiled as he lifted the window and edged through to the ground below. 

It was the Polar Express.

TOM

Home From the Hill   

The polar coordinates showed he was high and outside. Ben executed multiple thruster corrections. A pulsing blue vector “X” nudged in line with a pulsing red vector “X”. The high pitched response speaker cut off, which made deep thought a bit easier. Ben feed the new polar coordinates in to his right input panel.  A green X appear on his heads up. “Not my favorite mode of descent,” he mused to ships board computer. “Like you had an opinion, monkey boy.” A tongue of flame set the landing pad a glow. “Me nail banana” hooted Ben. “Not impressed.” chided Sexy.

JON

Words

By

Jon DeCles

It’s easy to get obsessed with things you don’t understand.  Rond got obsessed with the word polar.  Thought at first that bipolar disorder meant having too much negative and positive energy at the same time.  Sat still for almost a month, doing absolutely nothing.  They took it for meditation, which it might have been. 

Found out the Earth had a north and a south pole and booked a tour of Antartica, then headed north.  The Inuit talked about polar bears, but Rond heard bare instead of bear, got confused about magnetic and geographic and was found meditating, polar and bare.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert scratched his head. “Are you telling me that you and Mom have superpowers?”His father blushed. “Well, actually, just your mother. Not me. I married into the family.“”Sorry, Dad. I still think your cool, but, what can mom do that’s super special?“”Haven’t you noticed?” his father asked. “She can go days without needing rest. When we were first dating, I thought she was bi-polar, but then I realized, she never had any of the down times.“”What about Uncle Sylvester and Aunt Eustashia?”His dad shrugged. “Sylvester turns into a cat and your aunt never smells bad.”

PLANET Z

Fierce winds ripped across the endless snow and ice.
Listen to the windmill generators creak as they power the station.
You can look out the window, but you won’t see anything.
The night never ends in June… it will be months before the sun rises again over the South Pole.
We walk through tunnels from one insulated hut to another, checking readings and conducting experiments and analysing samples.
At night… well, during the evenings, we cook dinner and play cards.
And no hiding any aces up your sleeve, either.
Cheating gets you one minute outside, where it’s a hundred below.

Weekly Challenge #659 – Too Much

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:

Sleepy

LIZZIE

A mother came to me.
She was holding a photograph.
It was her daughter’s.
A mother came to me with tears in her eyes.
She wanted to tell me about the stories.
She wanted to tell me about the singing. The painting.
“My daughter, you see…”
And she held the photograph close to her chest as if that would bring her daughter back.
“I’m writing a book, you see…”
And she poured her soul into it.
A mother came to me and whispered.
“It was too much…”
And I thought, it was. It was too much pain.

RICHARD

#1 – Excess

“You can’t have too much of a good thing”, my dad used to say, and I took him at his word.

First it was an excess of sweets and chocolate. Then, as I grew older, I discovered sex, drugs and rock and roll, so true to my dad’s advice I binged on the lot.

These days as I lie, morbidly obese, toothless, deaf, and mentally destroyed by the excesses of my youth, unable to move from my bed, most of my time is taken up with sleep.

As dad always said, you can’t have too much of a good thing.

#2 – Well, would it?

“Would it be too much to ask you to put the toilet seat down after you’ve used it?” She’d complain every morning, “And, while you’re at it, is it too much hassle to replace the toothpaste cap?”

Every Thursday…  “Is it too much trouble for you to put the bins out?”

Then the constant nagging “I suppose it’s too much to expect you might attempt the washing up, the laundry, the housework, the shopping?”

Maybe I come across as lazy, but it’s part of my ploy to make her divorce me…

I’d divorce her myself… 

But it costs, too much!J


TOM

Late For Tea

I was lucky enough to grow into the Beatles. In 1963 I was a mere 10 years old, not old enough to be even a teeny-bopper. But by 1969 I had six years of Beatle-ness under my musical belt.  Sgt. Pepper’s was height of cool in its day. My favorite track on the LP was: It’s all too much. It totally capture the growing gash in suburban-culture. Story goes Harrison’s wrote the song about his LSD trips. Six years later in the warm California sun I dropped up first tab of acid. Damn if George wasn’t spot on.  Too much


SERENDIPITY



You’ll let me know when the pain becomes too much, won’t you?

Of course you will… You’ll shout, scream and thrash about in your bonds, begging me to stop and pleading for mercy. 

Then, as the pain does indeed become too much to bear, your jaw will clamp so tightly your teeth splinter and shatter; you’ll strain so hard, the restraining wires slice through your flesh to the bone.

Then I’ll stop…

Not to save you from further pain: Nothing is further from the truth.

On the contrary, I’m saving you…

So we can do it all over again, tomorrow!

JON

No Elf Eats…

By

Jon DeCles

“Any liver at all is too much!

“You’ve probably never had it cooked right.  You have to wash it thoroughly, then you put bacon on top and grill it for a few minutes, not too long, and then you drizzle maple syrup on it just before it’s done.”

“That is a total waste of bacon and maple syrup.  It still tastes like liver! In addition to the flavor, it has a texture that reminds me of dog shit.”

“Well what about pate´?  That’s delicious, and…”“It’s liver.  Too much iron.  It’s my Elf blood, on my mother’s side.  I’m Allergic!” 

Dug

By

Jon DeCles

Doug dug himself a hole in his backyard so that he could play at being a soldier in combat.  He thought of it as a foxhole because, like many boys, what he knew of war was a mashup of lingo from conflicts about which movies had been made, and a mixup of costume and equipment and technique and weaponry.  His parents did not discourage him.  It cost about the same as killing people in the endless series of first-person-shooter video games.

When he died his collection would have been worth a fortune had anyone been still alive to buy it.


NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s dad put an arm around his shoulders and walked him to his room. “Don’t worry about it too much, Billy. You’ll find, in time, that girls will become a very important part of your life.”
Billbert panicked when his father followed him into his room and said, “Have a seat, son. There are some things we probably should talk about.”
Billbert squirmed. “It’s okay, Dad. They teach us those things at school, now.”
“What? Oh. Of course, they do.” His dad cleared his throat. “But, the kids in our family line are different. When puberty arrives, they develop superpowers.”



PLANET Z

How much is too much?
Well, start with nothing.
A lot of people start with nothing.
Then, add a little.
Which is somewhere between not enough and nothing at all.
Then add some.
Not much, just a little more.
Which is more than a little.
And maybe just enough.
Then add some more to that.
Which is more than some ever have.
Add even more to that. And some more. A lot more.
More than you could possibly want. Or need.
At some point, you’ll wonder if you have too much.
That’s when you know you have too much.
Stop.

Weekly Challenge #658 – Don’t I feel stupid…

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:

Tinny

RICHARD

#1 – Stupid?

Don’t I feel stupid? You’d think so, stood outside in the corridor while the rest of the class gets on with lessons; and I won’t feel stupid later in detention either.

I’m doing school on my own terms, and whilst all the other nerds and teachers’ pets are struggling with equations, grammar and historical facts, I’ll be chilling in the corridors and messing about after hours, inconveniencing the teachers and wasting their time.

I don’t feel stupid at all.

Just wait till I’m in my forties, with a minimum wage job, no prospects and no future…

Then I’ll feel stupid!

#2 – Breakdown

“That’s about the worst thing you can do”, laughed the mechanic. “Fill a diesel car with petrol, and it’s a complete drain and flush, and then prime the fuel system… Won’t be done until tomorrow!”

As he winched the car onto the flatbed, I was grateful for breakdown cover. I’d get a tow to my destination – a good four hundred miles down the road – and payment for a night in a hotel.

His last words as I jumped down from the truck: “Don’t you feel stupid?”

Nope.

I wouldn’t be coming back for the car… It’s not mine!

TOM

No need to apply pain, I can do that unaided

Don’t I feel stupid is pretty much the title of the home movies I run in my head on an unending time loop. I know shouting out out loud “Oh fuck” is a kin to blatantly admitting I’m bad shit crazy, but I got a lot screw ups to revisit at the most inopportune times, and each one it verbally cringe worthy. But of late I have found a sort of talisman, a purifying mantra, that oddly enough abates my person furies. With little thought at all I just internally muse, “ALL DEAD.” Seems to work like a champ.

SERENDIPITY

“Don’t!… I feel stupid”, you protested, as I dressed you up in my frilly underwear and scrawled ‘SLUT’ across your chest in bright red lipstick.

“Don’t be silly”, I murmured, “you said you wanted to try new things…”

I tied the blindfold, before slipping the noose around your neck, then waited until your struggles finally ceased, before scattering a handful of gay porn across the bed and heading back home.

You were found, next day, by the maid in that seedy hotel.

Death by sexual misadventure’ was the verdict.

‘The high life, by insurance payout’, made it all so worthwhile!

NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s parents waited for him in the living room when he got back from the party.

He swallowed.

His mother was all smiles. “How was the party, dear? Did you have fun?”

“Sure. I’m going to bed,” he said.

“Wait, son.” His father said. “Who else was there?”

“Just me.”

“Did you play any games?” His mother asked.

“Just one. And then she kissed me,” Billbert admitted.

“Oh? Billbert’s got a girl friend,” his father teased.

Billbert crossed his arms and scowled. “Don’t! I feel stupid enough as it is.”

His mother hugged him and said, “I think you’ll survive.”

PLANET Z

When Freddy doesn’t understand something, he’ll ask to slow things down a little.
I don’t see how slowing things down will make it easy for Freddy to understand.
If something is really complex, maybe he should be asking to dumb things down a little.
Or, in Freddy’s case, dumb things down a lot.
The problem is that there are some things too complicated to dumb down and simplify.
That’s when Freddy gets this glassy look on his face.
I’ve made the process of dumbing things down too complicated for him.
So, I stop, take a moment, and start again slower.

Weekly Challenge #657 – PICK TWO Bubbling Saffron Lime Axial Repetition Can Spaceship

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:

Sleepy Tinny

EVA

The Story of Is

There was a beauty that radiated about her, penetrating the most solid of walls, the most bitter of men. I watched through impenetrable glass as the breeze lifted her hair, skin luminescent. I press a hand to my own. Cold. Lifeless. Gray.

The way of our worlds. Light and dark. Mine, devoid of life, of beauty. Of purpose. I sigh, gazing, as she plucks a flower and tucks it behind her ear.

This is the the divide, the unalterable conclusion. What is will be, what was will be no more. I am is. She is was, and someday will be…me.

RICHARD

Life?

‘Is this what my life has come to?’ I wondered, emptying the can of soup into the pan, and waiting for it to come to a bubbling heat.

I’d once had dreams and ambitions, goals to achieve and challenges to meet, but somewhere along the way, the daily grind took over.

Travelling the world, pushing my limits and living the dream somehow became less of a priority than paying the bills, putting out the bins and trying not to run out of milk.

They never warn you about this when you’re a kid.

And the soup’s not that good either.

LIZZIE

The Crow and the Spaceship

The crow muttered a few words. No one could understand him. He looked up and everyone mimicked him. They couldn’t see anything.
The crow flapped his wings. His nervousness was increasing.
Then, they saw it. It was blinding. It tinted the whole sky with an overwhelming tone of orange.
“What is that?”
“That, you idiots, is your end.”
They did understand the crow this time, but they stood there mesmerized, watching the spaceship fly over them, again and again.
It didn’t feel like the end.
The talking crow took off and hid.
They… they were never seen again.

TOM

Between a Rock and Hard Place

Bennie pulled back hard on the inertia damper. The Red Turtle dropped into the gravity well between Seti Alpha 5 and Drake’s debris field. Navigator Strobeck point out that if they didn’t pull a sufficient Z maneuver they’d likely end up fried by the dwarf binary suns of the Dawson cluster. Captain Winslow gave the order to engage the Repetition Drive. The spaceship commenced a near infinite series of braking actions. When the Turtle had finally come to a rest, they were orbiting between the suns. “Captain,” said Bennie noting the read out on the chronometer, “We overshot two millenniums.”

JON

But I Had That for Lunch!

By

Jon DeCles

The axial rotation of the spaceship meant that they had gravity of a sort, but they suffered from Repetition Disorder, which had been discovered first back on Earth by examining psychotics who had got that way from watching re-runs of “I Love Lucy.” The spaceship simulated day and night easily enough, but the seasons were harder, as seasons are pretty specific to the distance you live from the equator.

The mission was countering the disorder with culinary adventures to keep the awareness fresh. Hildemare sniffed and looked at the can, detecting both lime and saffron in the bubbling soupy stuff.

SERENDIPITY

People come from far and wide to visit my delicatessen, lured by my speciality black pudding.

It’s won prizes and accolades, and although it’s pretty expensive, you’d be amazed what foodies will pay for something of the quality that I make.

I’ve been asked many times to divulge my secret ingredient… “Is it saffron?” a customer will say as the inhale the rich, heady aroma from the freshly sliced sausage.

Another will take a guess… “It’s lime juice, I just know it is”

There’s no fancy ingredients in it.

Just blood and seasoning:

Rich, thick blood… Of the human variety.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert walked home from Linolimanda’s birthday party, new emotions bubbling up inside him from her unexpected kisses. The first kiss was surprising enough, but with the second repetition he was over the moon without a spaceship.
Of course, the weird part was how her father acted when she told him they’d been kissing. He looked like it bothered him, but that it was alright.
Bilbert planned on asking Linolimanda at school on Monday if he can come over again.
He was sure she would want to fly again. That would be fine with Billbert, if they could kiss again, too.

PLANET Z

Hector saw strange lights out in the cornfield, so he picked up his shotgun and flashlight.
It took a few flicks of the switch and a bit of shaking, but the flashlight came on, and Hector walked out into the field.
A bubbling, glowing orange slime lay in the middle of a clearing.
Hector walked back to his house, called the authorities, and packed a suitcase.
Leaving a note on the front door, he then drove to a hotel and got a room and waited for the authorities to tell him when it would be safe go to back home.

Weekly Challenge #656 – Flower

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:

Tinny grooms Myst

LIZZIE

To my grandmother who loved daisies

Winter is coming, they say. The flowers will go to sleep.
But these daisies flourished on. They never gave up.
The rain flooded the flower pots. The snow stifled everything cold. And they still managed to bloom.
He plucked a few and placed them in a beautiful jar. They collapsed that same day.
It was strange but also somehow comforting.
Eric felt his grandmother had something to do with this because she loved daisies.
He sneered. “Yes, Granny is watching from heaven and all that.”
Heaven was a strange concept for him. But then again, resilient daisies were that too.

RICHARD

Jacked off

The day that Jack exchanged the cow for a bag of ‘magic’ beans was not one he’d look back on with any pleasure.

His mother was unimpressed and flung them out of the window, whilst Jack hid away in his room and hoped she’d forgive him.

Turns out the beans weren’t beans at all, but flower seeds, and the next morning the garden was full of gigantic sweet peas.

He picked a bunch for his mum to placate her.

It didn’t make her any happier though – she didn’t have a vase anywhere near large enough to display them in.

SERENDIPITY

It starts, almost imperceptibly; a tingling, pricking, stinging sensation that slowly grows and spreads.

Over time, the pain begins to blossom and grow, like a flower unfurling its petals reaching out towards the light. Tendrils enveloping your vitals, spreading throughout your body.

The pain fills every fibre of your being; poisoning you, destroying you – both body and mind.

Then, in the fullness of time, when the time is ripe, I burst forth from the husk of your body… An explosion of blood and gore.

My spores, flying through the fetid air, seek out new hosts to make their home.

TOM

A Dash of Panache

As I noted last week I began my forays into courtship in the last 60s and by way of the timing of said wooing had little to go on except the practices of the two decades before. Theirs humble epochs were informed by the machinations proposed by the film of that time. A care taken to impression a celluloid female was to produce from behind ones back a gathering of flowers. The choice of roses a premium, thus a more excellent level of the heart. The wrinkle I add to this was to give half the bouquet to the mother.

JON

Katheryn Hepburn

By

Jon DeCles

The Corpse Flower produces the largest unbranched inflorescence of any plant in the world. It blooms rarely and people travel long distances to see it, and inhale the pungent odor of decaying meat. Its dark burgundy color looks like meat, and it raises it temperature to 98 F. to further imitate the preferred diet of the carnivorous insects that come seeking a meal and leave disappointed: but covered with the pollen that ensures the survival of the species.

If you have a greenhouse and you are tired of saying “Oh Look, the Calla Lilies are in bloom,” try growing it.

Winner

By

Jon DeCles

Winning was going to be a combination of grinding, tedious patience coupled with a downright rustic simplicity, a mindset that would allow him to plow through the confusing maze of rules and exceptions to the rules that would have done justice to the devious mind of a writer for the Infernal Revenue Service. But Arthur wanted to be a winner: he wanted to be the only winner, the winner who gained all of the prize.

He looked at the perverse architecture of the pagoda, with its tentacle-faced idol set up in warning, and walked toward the entrance to the crypt.

NORVAL JOE

Linoliumanda’s father put his fists on his hips and waited for an answer.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “We’ve been kissing, Dad.”
Billbert was considering what kind of flowers he would like at his funeral when her father opened his mouth, waggled his finger in the air, and then turned, descending the stairs. “It’s getting late.”
Billbert looked at the door. “I’d better go.”
Before he could, Linoliumanda grabbed him and kissed him again for a long time.
She took his hand and walked him out. “This was my best birthday ever. Thanks for everything.”

TURA

Flower
———
Plant breeders spent centuries trying to produce a blue rose. Nowadays, it’s a day’s work in the lab. Glow-in-the-dark harebells. Fluorescent pink lupins. I’ve designed pond lillies with leaf veining like fractal Tibetan mandalas — very popular with wealthy Japanese businessmen for their private Zen gardens. My latest creation is tartan roses. I designed software to model flower development, and used AI to design a genetic network, exploring millions of years of evolution in a few months.

Some people protest. They chant, “Roses are red! Violets are blue! God made them that way and so should you!”

PLANET Z

Ted wore a trick flower in his lapel.
He loved to invite people to sniff his flower, and he’d squeeze the bulb hidden in his hand to squirt them with water.
At first, people laughed. But after a while, the joke got old, and nobody laughed. A few got really mad.
Finally, one guy picked up Ted and threw him down the stairs.
Ted suffered massive brain damage and languished in a coma for months before he died.
It was an open casket funeral, and some people thought it would finally be safe to sniff Ted’s flower.
It didn’t squirt.

Weekly Challenge #655 – Brace

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:

Home is where the Tinny is

LIZZIE

“Brace yourselves for the worst storm you have ever experienced. The winds will be cyclonic, the rain torrential. You may want to get these raincoats on. The waterproof boots will be extremely helpful too. Oh, and I advise you to wear these glasses to protect your eyes from flying debris. You’ll never forget this experience, I assure you.”
The group was skeptical, considering how beautiful and peaceful everything looked.
“It better be epic. We paid a lot of money for this.”
After a long wait, the only thing that flew was Steven, the guide of the weather-themed park.

RICHARD

Brace

I am what you might call a very frequent flyer. Almost every working day, and most weekends, will see me on a plane to some far flung destination.

There’s only so much you can do on a flight: Once you’ve seen all the in-flight movies, read the brochures from cover to cover, and spent far too much time sleeping, boredom becomes a huge problem.

Being something of an artist, I’ve taken to altering the emergency procedure cards.

Then, mid-flight, when no-one’s looking, I shout ‘Brace, brace!’ and laugh at the ridiculous and obscene poses I’ve instructed everyone to assume!

SERENDIPITY

I’m a great believer in transparency and openness: It can make such a refreshing change from the nonsense that’s constantly peddled as fact, every day, in every situation.

We all know politicians lie, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and no bargain is too good to be true. There are always strings attached and when we say, ‘with the greatest respect’, respect it couldn’t be further from the truth.

So why mess about and lie? Let’s be honest and tell it like it is.

That’s why I’m warning you…

This is going to hurt.

A lot!

Brace yourself.

ASPEN

A world at war…bombs, shootings, death surrounded the soldier. Much unknown to the family at home with little communications and the few that there was were weeks even months between. Nothing left but to wait and wonder if the dear loved one was wounded, captured, dead or alive.

The mother gazed down the dirt road day after day waiting for her son to return many of which she would turn in at night after not seeing her son walk the path. Finally, the day came, out the window, she saw her son but a different version limping wearing a brace.

TOM

Winking at Your Discords

“Have lost a brace of kinsmen,” said the Prince, “All are punished.” I was just 14, I’d like to have called it my first date, but it was actually a hook-up, decades before the term moved into modern American English. A brace of kinsmen, the language was somewhat fun, when we read it in freshmen English class, but when it was delivered on the wide silver screen it hammer home, lost, folly, and how damning social conventions can be. Before Zeffirelli I had mild interest in words, after 1968, a deep devotion. If words lose their meaning, all are punished.

JON

Salvation

By

Jon DeCles

Nomily braced the door open with Kevin’s body. She could not risk the growing wind blowing it closed and trapping her in the little bunker once she had finished.

She took out the small notebook in which she had written down Dr. Winslow’s instructions and began to carefully enter the complex pattern of numbers on the several keypads, breathing slowly and focusing her attention as completely as she could, despite the danger. In the back of her mind she retained the thought of how preposterous it was that she was, perhaps, going to be the savior of all of Humankind.

Dispute

By

Jon DeCles

No dispute was possible about the matter. The young upstart had rebelled against the crown and he must die before he did England any more damage. Moreover, he must not be allowed into the presence of the Queen. If once they were together he would look at her with those exquisite eyes, give her that smile, and she would commute his sentence of death. He held in thrall the heart of the most intelligent woman alive.

Therefore, the ring, which she had given Essex as final pleading against his pride, must not reach her. Stealing the salvatory ring, he fled.

NORVAL JOE

“Brace yourself,” Billbert told Linoliumanda as they landed on the eves. They crawled back through her bedroom window.
Billbert looked at the turtle clock by Linoliumanda’s bed. “We’ve been gone forty-five minutes. Your dad is going to freak out.”
As if on cue, a knock came at the door.
Linoliumanda said, “Brace yourself.”
She grabbed Billbert by the head and planted a kiss on his lips and held it until Billbert ran out of breath. She mussed his hair and then her own before she opened the door.
Her father took in the scene and demanded, “What’s going on here?”

PLANET Z

FDR’s legs were paralyzed by a bout of Polio.
So, he wore braces, and learned to drive a car by using hand controls.
He challenged himself to walk with braces and canes from his front door, down the road, to the mailbox at the front gate.
It was a quarter of a mile.
Despite trying day after day, putting himself through the grueling and painful exercise, he never managed to make it all the way there.
Oh, he pushed himself hard, but he never made it before finally giving up.
And even if he did, how would he get back?

Weekly Challenge #654 – Dispute

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:

Tinnytoes

CHARLIE

I can’t recall a dispute I was ever engaged in. For my whole life, property, creative design ideas, legal issues, etc., were never anything I was concerned, nor enmeshed, in.

I’m afraid the day I am in a real dispute with someone, I will pick up a shovel, and smack the one I am in dispute with in the back of the head, dragging me into a manslaughter case.

Disputes hurt them more than they hurt me, but the effect on me is extreme. I dislike shouting, and spittle in the corners of an opponent’s mouth, and high blood pressure.

LIZZIE

The four men sat at the table surrounded by birds chirping.
“This racket is driving me crazy.”
The others shrugged and continued to talk about the plan.
“All weapons on deck?” he asked.
The others nodded.
A map appeared out of nowhere.
“What if he’s dead already?”
“Then, that’s it.”
And he thought, no, that’s not it. First, I’ll come back and kill these damn birds. Then, I’ll get rid of you cretins. And finally… Why not?
He pulled out two guns and shot the others right there and then.
Sometimes, there’s no point in waiting.

RICHARD

Insurance policy

I’ve been in dispute with my insurance company for the last few months. They maintain that being struck by lightning is an act of god, and therefore I can’t claim under my policy.

I, on the other hand, maintain that they’re just hiding behind a legal loophole and are unreasonably withholding the compensation I’m entitled to.

I won’t win though – I’ve made enough claims and seen enough refusals to know that the ‘act of god’ clause can cover pretty much anything they want it to.

So, I’m moving from Mount Olympus… Too many gods, and too many wild parties!

SERENDIPITY

I’ve always been a fan of the old fashioned methods of settling disputes – talking things through and getting counselling are all well and good, but they take too much time, and both sides always come away feeling they’ve had to give something up.

It’s much better to have a proper old fist fight, or if you’re feeling civilised, the traditional duel with pistols at dawn.

But, in my mind, you can’t beat the old ways: Trial by ordeal, fire and ducking stool.

Of course, even if you’re innocent, the chances you’ll survive are slim.

But, then again…

I survived!

TOM

Civility take a holiday

Oh for the days of civil dispute, when everything was dial back to a 4 at best. Reasonable voices voicing reasonable points of view. Who’d thought that the loudest screams would be coming from the black and white pixels that makeup computer text? If an army of moms where hovering just behind their recalcitrant off-spring I can assure you a snap to the back of the head would clear up a considerable amount of this rage-a-roma. It is sad we so easily confuse fighting for arguing. That winning is everything and at all costs mentality is norm. Too much red-meat.

JEFFREY

A Happy Ending
by Jeffrey Fischer

When Marty got through to a customer service rep, he explained in no uncertain terms why he was disputing the charge to the Happy Endings massage parlor. “But the business has your card number and code,” said the rep. “Has the card been out of your control?”

“Not that I know,” Marty said. “I’m just telling you the charge isn’t mine.” When the conversation was done, Marty turned to his wife, who had been listening to his end, and said, “See? It was all a mistake.” She nodded, though her icy expression didn’t change.

Marty made a mental note to be more careful with his credit cards in the future. He had to remember to use the card his wife didn’t know about.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert flew low over the houses of the neighborhood with Linoliumanda clinging to his back. He checked his watch. She had said they had a half hour before her father checked on them. He couldn’t dispute that. He didn’t know her father like she did.

Regardless. He would not have her back a minute late. He didn’t want to find himself in the middle of a family dispute.

By the time they returned to her room, the only part of him that wasn’t frozen was his back.

But it was worth it to see the smile frozen on her face.

PLANET Z

Dispute is the name of the fragrance.
The scent of anger.
To some, it’s a putoff. But to others, it’s a turnon.
The heat pours off of them like water in the shower over their body.
It’s hard to resist, but you have to try.
Fight it. Fight it with all you can.
That’s where the dispute happens.
Within you.
Fighting against yourself. Your instincts.
What you want… what you desire most.
But you know you shouldn’t have.
What you don’t deserve… don’t you?
Stop resisting. Stop punishing yourself.
Take it. Take it now.
And end the dispute, won’t you?