Me and this tree have had a long life together.
I was born under this tree.
I did all my homework under the branches.
Learned archery by firing arrows at this tree.
How to make a fire, from the branches.
Proposed to the woman who became my wife under it.
Married her here, obviously.
And hung her from that branch over there.
Buried her on the other side.
I hid in the branches while the police looked for me.
I refused to come down, so they set fire to my tree.
The flames are spreading quickly.
Everything smells like smoke.
How Stuff Got Made
I like to watch the “How Stuff Gets Made” show.
But I watch it on Youtube, not television. I don’t like to be told when to watch things, and I like to watch a lot of them in a row.
Most industrial production of the stuff we use is done by robots and gigantic mixers, with as little human intervention as possible.
Watching these videos, I wondered what would happen when the human component of the production process were replaced by robots.
Then, I had an epiphany… what if these videos were produced by robots?
And, ultimately, viewed by them.
Cat Shifts
Tinny the cat loves hugs.
Most mornings, she jumps up on the sofa, walks to my chest, turns around, and lays down on my collarbone for a nap.
However, she likes to do this a few minutes before I need to shower for work.
So, sometimes I’m a little late getting to the shower, need to dress quickly, and end up a few minutes late to work.
That’s okay, because I can stay a little later at work to make up for it.
Which means I’m a few minutes late coming home.
Which is when Myst likes to lay on me.
The Other
Joe recently upgraded his iPhone to the latest software, and it now says that he has 25 gigabytes of Other.
What’s Other? he thought
He looked this Other up on Apple’s support site, and they wanted him to completely reinstall his phone from a backup, and that’s a pain in the ass.
“Fine,” he said, plugging in the phone and telling iTunes to sync up.
The sync began, and his headphones began to tingle.
When the sync was over, Bob looked at the screen.
“25 gigabytes of Other? Again? Damn this stupid thing!”
He exchanged his iPhone for a Droid.
Weekly Challenge #561 – Bus
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:
JEFFREY
The Wheels on the Bus
by Jeffrey Fischer
Phil’s son was eight, and Phil loved him very much. This is why, against his better judgment, Phil volunteered to be a parent chaperone for the class field trip to the science museum in Middleburg, the nearest big town. Thirty eight-year-olds, two parents, a teacher, and one frazzled bus driver in a single vehicle. Phil had also forgotten that the science museum was about 50 miles from the school.
After the fifteenth round of “the wheels on the bus go round and round,” Phil snapped. He remained in a catatonic state until delivered home. Only then did he come around, revived by copious quantities of beer. As a result of the trip, Phil never boarded a bus again.
MUNSI
The Party Bus: Volume II
There will come a day when you’ll want off the party bus.
Not forever, of course not, but for a while. You’ll realize you’re not as young as you were, and that the party bus lifestyle is no longer something you can live full time.
There’s no need to feel ashamed.
It’s part of growing up, and when the time comes accept it with grace.
Pull over, get off, and don’t look back as it drives away.
Feel neither guilt nor shame.
Cuz while there ain’t no party like a party bus party, still, a party bus party must stop.
CHARLIE
Uncle Ralph dug the hole with his Cat 416 backhoe. After the hole was dug, an old, 61 passenger bus was slid into the hole.
We used the bus as a clubhouse through middle and high school. A large hatch and a ladder was constructed under a disguised trap door on the forest floor, and several vents were neatly and cleverly hidden inside hollow trees.
We opened up membership to our exclusive club and sold time inside the bus to locals that wanted a private, secure place to partake of their dalliances and drug use.
The bus is still there.
RICHARD
Bus
My father was a bus conductor. He wasn’t employed by the bus company, neither did he inspect tickets. In fact, it’s true that he never boarded a bus in any official capacity.
Neither, for that matter, did the rest of the band.
The percussionists sat on the back seat; brass and woodwind on the left; strings to the right, and dad would stand by the luggage rack holding on to the straps for dear life!
In the end. The bus company banned them, of course. Not because of the noise, but because there was never any room to carry passengers!
LIZZIE
Right by the bus stop, Roger noticed a strange flower. It seemed to have grown exponentially overnight.
He walked closer and noticed the flower was panting. Suddenly, it spat out some bones.
Roger jumped back, alarmed, hiding behind the glass of the bus stop. Those looked like fingers, he thought.
“Where’s the damn bus?”
The following morning, the reports on TV were slightly intriguing. A whole bus and a young man waiting at the bus stop had mysteriously vanished.
“I think we have finally developed it right. We are ready to take over that miserable planet. Start the count down.”
TOM
In the Long Haul
Jack had been wedged into the Greyhound seat between the window and an 80 years old farmer for the last two days. Said farmer was only going as far as Omaha, but he had spent hour upon hour describing all the places he had visited in Chicago in 1917 always ending with the punctuation, “probably tore down.” When the seat became empty in Nebraska the Gods of Crappy Bus Trips didn’t fail to deliver. An ex-grade school teacher from Omaha who remembered the name of every single student she had taught, and was quite happy to share with Jack
SERENDIPITY
We used to sing songs on the bus… A happy bunch of kids, without a care in the world, heading off to school.
Or should I say, a happy bunch of kids, and one crazy, disturbed bus driver.
He hated those songs, and he hated us kids. Hated us with a passion defying reason, which ultimately caused him to snap. That fateful day the school bus, with all on board, plummeted from the cliff road… The school run finally silenced.
But not quite…
We still sing our songs tormenting the driver.
Only now he must suffer them for all eternity!
JON
Your Skin Color Wasn’t Relevant On The Radio
By
Jon DeCles
“Taniwa, Fury! It is I, Straight Arrow!”
The bus driver is old. He remembers World War II. He is also aware that you need passwords to do anything after the Millenium.
“Come on, what’s that from?”
“Radio,” says my friend Bruce. “He is a White Rancher by day, but when danger threatens he is the Heroic Indian, Straight Arrow. That’s how he greets his horse, who he keeps in a secret cave. First Native American radio hero I can remember.”
Bruce grins at me.
“It is I, Straight Arrow: and my friend, Not-So-Straight Arrow!”
“Come on aboard!” the driver smiles.
NORVAL JOE
My plan for when I finally lose my mind is that I’ll use my social security check to get a small apartment downtown and a monthly bus pass.
Everyday, I’ll ride the bus to the shopping mall wearing swimming goggles, a speedo, and a beach towel wrapped around my shoulders for my super hero cape. I’ll spend my day eating mall food, assisting the mall cops apprehend criminals, walking around the mall addressing all the shoppers as “Citizen”, and other super hero activities.
Just because I’m crazy doesn’t mean I can’t have fun or spend my time doing something worthwhile.
TURA
Bus
———
“The Routemaster was the best bus ever made,” he said, with a gleam in his eyes. “Built for efficient maintenance, did you know it only takes twenty minutes to swap out the engine? But people say it’s old-fashioned, they go for fads like bendy buses and driver-only, no romance.
“Bradford City Council still uses the Routemaster, and not only do I know the bus manager there, he knows me, and sometimes I can help him get hold of spare parts. You just try finding an original stainless steel throckle bracket these days!”
That’s the last time I date a bus-spotter.
Z
Organizers fill the schoolbus, and hand out signs as the driver carries the group across the city to the protest.
As the passengers exit, the organizers tell each: “You’ll get your fifty bucks when the protest is over and you hand back your sign.”
They join the others, and the organizers send the bus back to the pickup point to get more.
Twenty schoolbuses running a circuit, all morning long, until they run out of fuel.
“We’ll be back,” the organizers say, and they abandon the bus.
At the end of the day, the organizers watch the news, and laugh.
Of The Month
Wanda filled out the order form incorrectly, and instead of getting the Bread Of The Month Club, she ended up in the Breast Of The Month Club.
At first, she was shocked by the boob in a brown cardboard box that she got in the mail, but she tried it on and found it supple and firm, much more so than her two.
She filled out another order form, and the next month, she got two boxes in the mail.
A pair and a spare.
She used the pre-paid postage to send back her own tits, and went bra shopping.
Jimmy The
Back in the Seventies, CBS was looking for a guy to add to their NFL Today show.
So, they rounded up a bunch of guys named Jimmy and had them try out.
Nobody could understand Jimmy The French.
Jimmy The Italian waved his hands too much.
Jimmy The Spanish and Jimmy The Mexican were always on siesta.
And they already had Irv Cross, so they didn’t need a token Jimmy The Black.
Jimmy The Russian? Jimmy The German? Jimmy The Chink? No.
In the end, they went with Jimmy The Greek, who had bet on himself and made a fortune.
Lazy Bill Gates
Bill Gates said that he prefers to hire lazy people because they use the simplest solution to get the job done.
I think he’s lying. Because lazy people don’t just try to come up with the simplest solution, but they also cut corners in their work, and they don’t check their work.
I know this, because I am a lazy person. I cut corners, and I don’t check my work.
Plus, I’m often late, because I dilly-dally and dawdle. Oh, and I goof off.
I’d research this Bill Gates thing more, but I really don’t give a fuck about it.
Hollywood Success Story
Everyone told Bob that with his good looks, he should go out to Hollywood.
So, he did.
But he didn’t act or sing.
Instead, he cleaned pools, mowed yards, and landscaped.
And he was really good at it.
Every famous person’s place you see, Bob’s company handles their yardwork and maintenance.
He gives his employees fair wages, decent benefits, and good healthcare.
Others try to undercut him with illegals, but they do cheap, sloppy work.
And the Immigration officers know that Bob does background checks, others don’t.
There are no awards or ceremonies for honest, hard work in Hollywood.
Pity.
Baba Va
Decades ago, the Va watched human starships as they slid down through the clouds and landed on their sacred lands.
Today, there is only one Va left, Baba Va, and it is dying.
For years, xenopologists transcribe endless stories of the Va, their proud history, the complex rituals.
Which are totally full of shit.
The Va were always a wretched culture, constantly fighting amongst themselves.
By the time the humans came, the Va were already in decline, starving and cannibalizing on this awful rocky planetoid.
We humor it’s exhausting nonsense, and look forward to its demise and the wonderful silence.