Nobody goes to the zoo anymore.
Memberships are down. Tickets are down.
The gift shop, concession stands, and even the choo choo train are down.
Hiring freezes, layoffs.
Selling off the animals that are expensive to maintain.
And lots of publicity stunts.
The latest had the director of the zoo marrying two last gorillas together.
That one didn’t go too well.
The gorillas never quite got used to being around humans.
And on top of that, they were two male gorillas, and the local churches protested.
Lots of support on Facebook from LGBT groups, but that doesn’t pay the bills.
The Center
The Centerville Diner sits quietly along Center Street in the center of Centerville.
Centerville is in the middle of Center county, which is in the center of the state.
A state which is in the center of the country.
Anything beyond that point is purely speculation and difficult to argue.
Because no country is the center of the world, and earth is not at the center of the solar system, a Copernicus proved long ago.
The Diner is at the center of the community, though, as the owner unlocks the front door, turns on lights, and starts up the grills.
Spring Sacrifice
A forest in winter.
An early frost.
A fresh blanket of snow.
A gentle breeze.
An iron chain, two iron chains.
A leg, a foot, an arm.
A beautiful girl, in rags.
A baby in her arms.
A tracking dog
A sheriff.
A radio in his hand.
A pickup truck on an icy road.
A small Kentucky farm.
An old red barn.
An iron cage.
A bucket. A plate.
A bent spoon.
An open lock
A clenched fist.
An angry farmer.
An altar.
A blood sacrifice for Spring.
A search.
Another girl.
A dark prayer.
An angry god listens.
Weekly Challenge #626 – Camping
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:
CHARLIE
I’ve never been a camper. Sorry. Once at a party in Frisco, I dressed up as a chubby daughter of Lesbos for a high camp fest that my art school threw.
High camp was in at the time. My aesthetic was a form and demonstration of inverted attributes of beauty, value and taste. “Camping it up” was the strategy for the whole weekend. My friends still talk about it.
Today, many years later, my taste in camp is confined to reading The National Enquirer, watching Cuban pop singers, and watching lustless porn with the sound turned off.
Lifetime NRA Member.
#2
Camping usually is family affair with my family. We pack two, unmuffled, diesel generators, the dogs and the miniature pigs, and the large screen TV and stereo gear. We bought six air mattresses and a motorized hammock that can hold the whole family.
Target practice, archery, lawn darts, naked volleyball, and a portable Sanikan take up the rest of the room in the utility trailer. The Sanikan is pumped out by the local plumbing shop twice a week. We have plenty of hot water due to the propane heaters and storage tanks.
We relish the flash pictures of Mother Nature.
RICHARD
Camping
I hate camping!
Ever since trips to ‘The Great Outdoors’ as a youngster, I’ve loathed anything to do with tents, sleeping bags and portaloos… How anyone can enjoy that sort of thing beats me!
It’s cramped, cold, everything smells musty, and the slightest hint of rain means that everything will remain damp and uncomfortable for the duration.
Then there’s the bugs and all the other unpleasantness that others pretend to enjoy.
Not me though. I’ll stay in a hotel with a decent bar, a comfortable bed, room service and air conditioning.
Or, better still, why bother? I’ll stay at home!
LIZZIE
“It’s cold and I don’t even like camping.” And Annie slammed the door behind her.
Why did Annie have the final word about everything, thought Paula.
A pair of curious eyes looked inside the house.
Why couldn’t they go camping in the winter? They just needed a few extra sweaters. And besides, Paula really wanted to see that stag again.
When she turned around, he was there. She didn’t dare to move. They looked at each other. And that’s how the word camping took on a completely different meaning, as the stag came back for a visit every day.
SERENDIPITY
A friend introduced me to living under canvas many years ago. He would constantly be extolling the virtues of getting close to nature, becoming one with the environment and living in harmony with the forest.
That’s not the reason I camp out in the wilds and avoid cities and civilisation; my reasons have nothing to do with living as nature intended.
It’s a practicality, as far as I’m concerned – the further from habitation I keep, the less likely the cops will catch up with me.
Together with the added bonus that it’s easy to dispose of bodies out here!
TOM
Nature Boy, Not
I’m not an avid camper. I’m an urbanite. When we travel we expect a mint on the pillow, not a tree root to the spine. “Camping allow you a closer connection to nature.” So does a weekend with Ebola. The only way to get me into the wood, to “CAMP” there had better be a cabin, a bank of electoral plugs, and oh yes, WIFI. But Tom the purpose of camping is to remove yourself from the tyranny of the modern world. Oh and walking 10 miles hauling a 90 pound pack, to dine on freeze dry food is freedom. Nup
JON
No More Camping Trips!
By
Jon DeCles
It was to be an idyllic Saturday. My buddy was coming over and we could watch old movies and opera on the big screen TV. My son, Master of the Media, was to be away with my wife on a camping trip. He normally dominates the usage of the TV, but he assured us the electronics would be free for our use. If need be, my nephew could advise us on how it worked.
We could not turn it on. My nephew could turn it on, but not make it go. His son got us a picture, but nothing more.
TURA
Camping
———
You need less than you think to camp in the wilderness. Who needs a tent? Make your shelter from tree branches. No need to carry food, you can live off the land. As for clothes, a properly trained human body needs only its natural strength. To wander naked with nothing through the empty places is real living, not slowly dying in cities. One taste and you’ll never go back.
That’s what I tell them for $10,000 a day at corporate team-building retreats. And now I have fans who actually do it! I’m almost tempted to try it myself.
———
PHILIP NORVAL JOE CARROLL
Billbert settled down onto the roof of the library. Giddy from escaping the bully he fought the desire to laugh out loud so that he could hear what Roderick said on the ground below.
“Get down here with that bag or I’m gonna kick your skinny butt.”
Billbert considered camping out on the roof for the rest of his life. But why? With his plastic grocery bag, he could fly anywhere.
Making sure to stay out of Roderick’s view, Billbert circled around and landed on the ground near his locker. Safely locking the bag away he hurried to his class.
PLANET Z
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Other pirates looked at raids as work.
George looked at them as camping trips.
He’d pack all kinds of things for the raid, such as a portable stove, a change of clothes, and meals ready to eat.
“You don’t need all of that,” said the captain. “Just steal food during the raid..”
This assumed that the pirates would succeed.
Which they didn’t.
George quickly changed clothes and posed as a lost tourist.
The townspeople welcomed him. “Sorry for the mess,” they said “Want to watch us hang some pirates?”
No Kill Shelter Jerky
Stacy’s cat vanished the other day.
The neighbor kid Billy brought over some teriyaki jerky as a condolence gift.
It was delicious.
“I have to confess,” said Billy. “I made it out of your cat.”
Stacy ate the whole bag anyway. “Do you have any more?” she asked.
They set out traps and caught a few strays.
LOST CAT posters appeared on every lamp post.
Stacy volunteered at the local shelter.
She smuggled out cats in her backpack.
The shelter owner didn’t care.
“It’s either that or drown them in the lake,” he said.
He suggested barbecue flavor. And sweet-and-sour.
Migrates
In the Northern Hemisphere, most birds fly South for the Winter.
Just as in the Southern Hemisphere, most birds fly North for their Winter.
Except for birds that can’t fly, like Kiwi or Ostriches or Penguins, of course.
I’m not sure what they do.
Do they dig burrows and hide in them?
Do they check into motels?
Or do they hop on trains?
Because I’m sure that they aren’t allowed on buses or planes.
Maybe cargo ships. There’s a lot of cargo ships out there.
But they tend to go from China to America.
And oil tankers just carry oil.
The Grime
Most people use trackpads or wireless laser-mice these days, but I insist on using an old-fashioned mouse with a ball in it.
Of course, the ball accumulates grime, and I have to clean it out.
Not just so that I can control the mouse, but also prevent the grime from coalescing and achieving intelligence.
The pulsating glob managed to point and click its way into my word processor, and it worked up some kind of manifesto.
I pulled out the ball and scraped out the grime.
No need for a wireless laser-mouse yet. This time, I’ll use some antibacterial wipes.
Penrose
Back in high school, I tried out for the school’s marching band.
I wasn’t good at any traditional marching band instrument, such as a trumpet or tuba or slide trombone. I couldn’t even learn how to beat a drum.
“This is going to be impossible,” said the band director. “You’ll need an impossible instrument.”
He pulled open a drawer and lifted a strange twisted triangle that hurt my eyes to look at it.
“Here’s the Penrose,” he said, handing to to me. “Go practice on the stairwell.”
I tapped the triangle and climbed up the stairs… and up… and up…
Insurance Coverage
A werewolf bit George.
Now, George is a werewolf.
He does his best to maintain his condition.
During the full moon, he locks himself in his basement with raw meat.
It’s very expensive, but his insurance company covers the cost.
They didn’t at first.
Luckily, he lives near an executive with the insurance company.
George showed up at the executive’s door with a stack of LOST DOG and LOST CAT posters.
“I’m still hungry,” said George. “You love your wife and kids, don’t you?”
The meat deliveries were approved with one condition.
“Can you please eat my mother-in-law?” he asked.
Weak by Serendipity
People ask where my wickedness came from… I’m not sure, but there’s one day that clearly stands out in my mind.
It was the day the fair came to town, and the big, ugly brute at the ‘Try Your Strength’ machine laughed in my face when I asked for a go.
“This is a man’s game”, he said, “not for weak little girls like you”
That’s when I grabbed him by the balls and started to squeeze as hard as I could, and I didn’t stop until his screaming ceased, as he slumped unconscious to the floor.
Who needs strength?