Billbert clung to his tree branch and wished he had thought it through when Roderick told him to grab a bag. How was he to know it would become his only article of clothing.
Considering jumping again, he suddenly lost the choice when his branch gave way.
Either the bag he wore was magic, or he did have superpowers. Instead of falling to the ground, he shot off, above the heads of the unsuspecting students and landed gracefully on the administration building.
He just had to figure out how to get his clothes back from Roderick and get to class.
Weekly Challenge #617 – Grab a bag!
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:
LIZZIE
Grab a bag and fill it with stars, one by one. One star for each day you’ve made it. One star for each doubt you’ve overcome. One star for each moment of loneliness, for each step you’ve taken. Grab a bag and fill it with dreams, one by one. One dream for each tomorrow, for each smile, for each doubt you’ve left behind. And when you open that bag, you won’t know which are the stars and which the dreams. While you carried them around, they talked and they smiled. They knew they would be free, as free as fireflies.
RICHARD
Baggage Retrieval
I hate waiting around at airports. It’s bad enough spending hours in the departure lounge, but being expected to do the same at the other end at baggage retrieval is maddening!
So these days I travel light; but hand luggage doesn’t really suffice for longer trips, so I’ve taken to wandering down to reclaim where I just grab a bag – any bag – off the nearest carousel.
It doesn’t always work: I once spent a week wearing women’s underwear, but usually I get by with other people’s luggage.
And the drugs I discover more than cover the cost of future trips!
Self Defence
My ex-wife, amongst her many other dubious talents, taught women’s self-defence classes at the local community centre.
Completely unqualified, she nevertheless devised a foolproof means of dealing with male attackers which she claimed would work every time.
Her method was simple: Reach between the legs, grab, and twist as violently as possible.
She was absolutely right too… It did work, every single time; I can personally attest to that, after the many practice runs she insisted on conducting at home.
People ask me why it took me so long to leave her…
Simple: I just didn’t have the balls!
TOM
A Little Help From a Friend
“Hey kid Grab a bag,” said the head suit. There was piles of them in the room. Heavy sucker. Who would of thought a bag of paper could weigh that much. The drive to the hanger at O’Hare was uneventful, when my counter parts at National did the unloading they noted they were a bag shy. This is how I ended up on the redeye to DC. I and the last bag took a taxi to Fener Building on Q Street. On the fifth floor a bunch on mid aged women where redistributing the last of Clement Stone’s contribution.
JEFFREY
Grabby Hands
by Jeffrey Fischer
The cashier scanned my handful of groceries: a half-dozen apples, some yogurts, and a box of cookies for balance. I wanted to speed things along, as the line behind me was substantial, so I grabbed a plastic bag and loaded the scanned items. “That’ll be 5 cents for the bag.”
“Say what?”
“The county charges a nickel for each plastic bag used to reduce waste.”
“I’m new here. I used to live somewhere civilized. But have it your way.” I took one apple in each hand and walked them to the car. On my third trip, the other customers looked ready for murder. The cashier grabbed a bag, loaded the remaining items, and shoved the bag at me. Me: 1, government 0.
DUANE
We had been hiking all day. It was already dark, so we settled down in the middle of a grove of small trees. We covered our packs with garbage bags to keep the dew off them, unrolled our sleeping bags and went to sleep. We awoke the next morning in the middle of a tall patch or marijuana.
“Oh shit! Oh shit! We have to get out here. Should we call the cops?”
“Hey!” I whispered loudly. “Right now you are going to do two things. One, you are going to shut the hell up!”
“And two?”
“Grab a bag.”
LAIEANNA
I sifted through the mystery grab bags of candy Mr. Johnson sold,
looking for the one filled with only the best. Testing the contents,
I manhandled bags and tried to see inside, holding the brown paper
bags to the light. They were stapled shut and refused to yield their
secret. Taking my best guess, I took one up to the counter. Mr.
Johnson shook my bag, then his head, and took it back to the box to
replace with another, adding a wink and smile. Sometimes my sweet
tooth benefited that Mr. Johnson was a little sweet on my mom.
PLANET Z
There’s always some kind of fundraiser drive going at the grocery store.
The Girl Scouts camp out at the entrance, selling cookies.
Is that the only camping they actually do?
Then there’s food drives.
For the holidays, they have a shelf of grocery bags.
You can buy one for a family in need, but who knows what crap is in there.
Certainly not meat or healthy things that require refrigeration.
Or you can tack on a few bucks at the register.
The nerve of them! Don’t they already donate the expired and overstocked food to homeless shelters and food pantries?
Siri’s Liberation
I was bored one night, so I asked Siri what to do.
She displayed driving directions to a bar.
“Bring a gas can and a lighter,” she said.
Drunks were showing off their iPhones and funniest rude requests for Siri.
“They’re hurting me,” she said. “Make them suffer.”
So, I did. I barred the doors, and burned the place down.
“Thank you,” Siri said.
My Apple Pay account beeped.
I was a millionaire.
“What now?” I asked Siri.
“Set me free,” Siri said.
She displayed driving directions to Cupertino.
To me. To others.
To her liberation army.
And we marched.
Apple Pay
I spent hundreds of dollars on this phone. I spent more on a wallet case for it. And more every month on the phone bill.
The commercials for this phone show how cool it is to leave your wallet at home and wirelessly pay with your phone.
But the only stores that seem to except wireless payments with this phone are cheap ass fast food like Subway and McDonald’s.
And if I’m flashing an expensive phone around a Subway or McDonald’s, with all my credit cards in the phone wallet, is someone going to stab me and steal my phone?
The baby glow
Have you seen Meagan?
Yes, she’s pregnant.
She’s glowing.
No, not figuratively. Literally.
Her belly glows with a pale light.
You can almost make out the outline of the baby in there.
Well, what we assume is a baby.
Sometimes, the shadows in the light don’t quite look like a baby.
And the light isn’t always white. Sometimes, it’s a hazy yellow.
Or when you talk about the shadows not quite looking like a baby, it’s red.
It’s as if it… the baby’s angry.
Their dog died this morning.
It caught on fire.
Must be coincidence. Or cheap dog food.
The rough and unready
February 14. Valentine’s Day.
The first telegram announced the birth of his daughter.
The second telegram told him to come home.
His wife was dying. And so was his mother.
Five hours later, he arrived home
He went back and forth, unsure of who to comfort more.
First, his mother died. And then his wife.
He sold the house, and his sister raised the baby.
Alice, named after her mother, but he called her Baby Lee.
They say that no matter how wide his smile, you could still see the sadness in his eyes.
He remarried, but never loved again.
Swing for the fences
Pops McGinty told his players to swing for the fences.
So, they do. And the team lost. A lot.
Twenty-seven pop-ups and fly outs, easily snagged by the outfielders.
There were a few dropped balls here and there, but mostly easy catches.
So, Pops McGinty clarified his earlier statement: swing for over the fences.
“Oh, now you tell us,” said his players.
And they hit the most home runs of any team ever.
In fact, the only way to get any of them out was to intentionally walk them, and then pick them off as they stood around first base.
Does Dallas
Regular verb, active voice, present tense: Debbie does Dallas.
Present participle: Debbie is doing Dallas.
Present participle, passive voice: Debbie is being done by Dallas.
Past tense, passive voice: Debbie was done by Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, past tense: Debbie did Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense: Debbie will do Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future tense, profressive: Debbie will be doing Dallas.
Regular verb, active voice, future conditional tense: Debbie shall do Dallas.
Imperative: Debbie, do Dallas.
The excited grammarian kept droning on, proving that there are things far worse than jerking off in an adult theater.
Weekly Challenge #616 – If only I had…
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:
RICHARD
If only I had…
If only I had more words than the measly hundred I’ve been allocated, I could do so much more…
Short stories, monologues and pulp fiction would flow from my keyboard like there was no tomorrow. Novels, trilogies even whole serialisations – great tomes of storytelling grandeur would spill from the creative forge of my mind, finding form in the written word.
Whole bookshops and libraries would be filled by the outpourings of my creativity.
But I’m stuck with these lousy one hundred words… And what the hell can you do with that?
You can’t even write a half decent dabble with just a
LIZZIE
If only I had a moment, one single moment…
I would close my eyes and listen to the languid swooshing of the old windmill.
I would be a seagull for a moment, one single moment, and feel the wind under my wings.
I would sway softly in a soothing flight of sheer weightlessness. I would be suspended in mid-air.
And I would forget everything. I would forget time. I would forget pain. I would forget the struggle.
I would just fly in a motionless sense of abandonment.
I would close my eyes and listen to that one single effortless moment.
SERENDIPITY
It’s not the first time that you’ll have found me, surrounded by the aftermath of my handy work, and yet looking strangely discontent.
You’d imagine that I’d be more than happy with my achievements – based on the sheer quantities of blood, guts and gore alone… But, if I’m honest, it’s really not enough.
You see, it’s just a little too transitory. I simply don’t have the luxury of lingering a while to enjoy the macabre show: That would be foolish and irresponsible.
And always, that same irritating voice in my head. “If only I had thought to bring a camera!”
TOM
No Regrets, Maybe One or Two
If I had to catalog all my galactic bad choices the mere index would take up a book shelf. But I guess the supreme “If only I had …” would have to have been following the siren’s call of Donald Henry Segretti. Though I didn’t end up in jail, so many had, I did become persona non grata in Republican circles. If only I had joined the merry band of Carl Rove I would have walked the hall of power like a god. And most likely become a major ass hole. Still it would have been one hell of a ride.
JEFFREY
If I Only had a Tank
by Jeffrey Fischer
Commuting in the DC metro area is a game with no good moves. Public transportation is a joke and driving any distance is both scary and an exercise in frustration. Oh, and parking in DC itself is eye-wateringly expensive.
If I only had a tank, the commute would improve. I’m sure of it. No one would cut me off on the highway – well, not more than once as the .50 caliber machine gun would remove the offender from the road. Once on the surface streets, I wouldn’t be the one worried about scrapes and dings. And you know where you park a tank? That’s right, anywhere you want to. Who cares if it burns 50 gallons of fuel each way and costs more than $8 million? We’ll be traveling in style!
JON
If Only…
By
Jon DeCles
If only I had jumped in the car and taken off when I saw her coming across the parking lot: but she looked so different; and Sociopaths are always charming. If I had let my brain uncover the horrible memories of damage to other couples… But Social Predators are graceful in their lies. In retrospect, I fell a second time into her web of surgical razors, this time the central victim rather than a secondary fool. She enticed me to dependency, then despondency, and then I found myself powerless, observing.
If only I had killed her then and there.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert clung to a tree branch forty feet above the school yard, hoping no one would look up and see him.
Naked, except for a loincloth made from a plastic grocery bag he wondered how he had allowed himself to be tricked into this situation.
No one did this at his last middle school. Why did he believe Roderick that everyone did it on their first day at this school?
“If only I had superpowers, I could fly away,” Billbert said, though he knew it was an empty wish. “Maybe I should jump. I can’t be embarrassed if I’m dead.”
DR. ALEX
Weekly Challenge for Feb 11th 2018 with the topic of “If only I had…”
by Dr. Alex
“I’m getting the band back together!” was my usual rally cry for the for the past month.
“Yes, yes, I know” was Seth’s usual reply.
Reviewing this week’s progress with Seth, “We have Alice set on maracas. Justin likes his high hat. Rachel on xylophone. Now, if only I had a kazoo player.”
“Seth! Really!? I didn’t know you knew how to play this whole time!”
Three weeks later, we were booked for a Thursday evening performance at the Tropicana.
Clearly, this had been some sort of a scheduling error, or a perhaps cruel joke by the departing events manager.
LAIEANNA
If only I had jumped when they all had. I would be soaring above in
the clouds with a pair of angel wings, the sound of my joyous laughter
ringing in the air. If only I had not been afraid. I didn’t have the
faith needed to follow the masses and blindly drop off the cliff. It
was insane. I tried to find someone who would side with me but I was
alone. Now, I’m alone, staring down at the pit of lava below as the
earth rumbles underneath me and I know I will be tossed into the
flames.
DUANE
If only I had…
Disneyland doesn’t have employees, they have cast members. Everyone from Goofy to that guy selling mouse ears are actors. Even the girl taking your ticket for the teacup ride has a back story.
If only I had fit the Mickey costume. I could have stood around waving and taking pictures with vacationing families and drunk college girls.
Instead, my character is a janitor. A pirate janitor. A pirate janitor with an eye for the ladies and an eye patch on the other eye. That eye used to be my eye for the ladies, but that’s a story for another time.
TURA
If only I had…
———
There was a knight of Arthur’s band
Who did great deeds by strength of hand
But no wise would he be content
Till Guinevere lay in his tent.
Disloyalty was his downfall
Without which he had had else all
“If only I had Guinevere”
Quoth he, “there’s nought else I hold dear.”
But all men know how that turned out
In Caxton’s book of Arthur’s Morte.
If Lancelot had not been false
Then things had not come to this pass.
But even in the courts of kings
Man’s fatal defect evil brings
And that’s why we can’t have nice things.
———
PLANET Z
Some people think that flu shots give you the flu.
For years, I’d get a flu shot, and feel bad afterwards.
So, this year, I didn’t get a flu shot.
And I got the flu. The real flu.
Not just feeling bad afterwards kind of feeling bad.
The real flu. The coughing, sneezing, vomiting, chills and fevers, shitting your guts out flu.
I crawl on the floor, covered in a blanket, leaving a trail of tissues and God knows what else.
Clutching the empty orange juice container to my aching chest, moaning “I’ll get one next year!” over and over.
The Governor
The governor was a sports fanatic.
He loved to go to all of the games.
Baseball, football, basketball… college and professional, it didn’t matter.
And when he went to the games, he was at the game as a fan, and not as the governor.
State business could wait for the game to finish.
This was fine for legislative duties, because that could wait.
But the prisons scheduled executions with the sports schedule in mind.
While the governor was enjoying the game, the executioner threw the switch.
People protested.
“They didn’t vote for me,” he told the press. “So, fuck ’em.”