The 100 Word Stories Podcast

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
• Jeffrey
• Charlie
• Richard
• Tom
• Serendipity
• Tura
• Munsi
• Zackmann
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

One good deed and Frank would move up to the next level.
When he arrived at the lake, he saw an alien fighting helplessly to stay afloat, sinking in the water every now and then.
Should he do something? Or just watch the tragedy unfold?
To think that he had made fun of the guy who got the #10… Helping ten old ladies cross the street seemed easy enough.
What should he do? Laura or revenge?
Half an hour later, Frank took off.
Laura would have to wait.
Next card.

JEFFREY

Love Hurts
by Jeffrey Fischer

They laughed at the same things, enjoyed candlelit dinners and long, romantic walks. They held hands and kissed. It was a whirlwind romance, but he knew she was The One. She said she felt the same way. He sensed hesitation in her voice. When pressed, she said she wasn’t sure she could leave her pet hamster to spend her life with him. He said he understood but hoped she would choose him. “Meet me at the Dallas airport at sunset this Saturday. I’ll be at the security line. If you’re not there… well, I’ll know your choice.”

He waited for more than two hours with no sign of her. Dejected, he left. Only then did it occur to him that perhaps he should have specified Dallas-Fort Worth, in case she flew to Love Field.

The Measure of Love
by Jeffrey Fischer

How do you know if you are loved? Love is not the giddy moments of romance, of infatuation, but something deeper, something meaningful. Love is not blaming him for failing to ask for directions and getting lost, making you two hours late to your best friend’s destination wedding. Love is holding him after he vomits away his excessive drinking at the reception after the wedding. Love is understanding, not blaming, when he gets some of the vomit on your $300 shoes you bought for the wedding. Those shoes are now ruined, and love also is not mentioning a second time that they cost $300. Well, a guy can hope, can’t he?

CHARLIE

Two, lovesick lovebirds, sitting on a loveseat, found themselves lovelocked due to the awkward and challenging position they took in their most loveable lovemaking during the lovefest. Local EMTs were called in to uncoil the pair, necessitating the use of the jaws of life and subsequent removal of the padded arms of the seat to extricate the portly pair from the furniture. The host threw a large blanket over them as they were being freed from the ghastly entanglement. The party goers were aghast, and the staff was shocked and sickened by what they witnessed. Smart phone images were traded.

RICHARD

#1 – The Gospel According to Norman: The Sermon on the Grassy Knoll

You have heard it said that you should love your neighbour as yourself, however I say to you, exercise extreme caution in loving your neighbour, especially if your neighbour’s husband is strong of build and quick to anger.

You have also heard it said you should love your enemy – this is pure foolishness and will lead to nothing good.

I tell you the truth, it is far better to find somebody inoffensive, unattached and without a truck load of emotional baggage to lavish your love upon, for that is the way of enlightenment, and a quiet and peaceful life.

#2 – If

“If you loved me, you would”

That was her stock phrase, it usually worked too. Maybe I was a pushover, but I knew what I was doing, so I played along.

She had it all: Parties, presents, holidays, while I quietly waited in the background for my moment.

Then she had the affair.

She came crawling back, tearful and repentant, begging for forgiveness… “If you loved me, you would”, she argued.

But I didn’t love her – I loved her money. So I divorced her, won the house, half her investments, a good chunk of her pension and the car.

#3 – Let her go

They do say, ‘If you really love her, let her go’, and, when it became obvious that my infatuation for her was never going to be reciprocated, I did the honourable and right thing.

I let her go.

Although, not before I’d secreted a GPS tracker in her car, hired a private detective to follow her 24/7 and set up remote cameras in every room of her house.

When you love someone that much, letting them go doesn’t mean you have to let go.

Sadly, justice – like love – is blind and the court didn’t see it my way.

TOM

1. Silly Little Love Song

Four guys once sang: All You Need Is Love. While romantically reasonable,
not so useful in the real world of commerce. Try paying a grocery bill
with that. Or your rent, gas, and electric. Or your credit card charges
for extra bubbles in Panda Pop. Kevlar over love sure could’ve helped
John. Advanced cancer serum versus love, bad choice George. Hey Paul I
think you need a more encompassing prenup. Wait a second, that last guy
sure looks happy. Despite fame and fortune, the fixation of a generation,
maybe he has found true …. Don’t believe it for a moment.

2. Gail

I’ve been in love with Gail for just inside 30 years. She is my best
friend, the person I want to be with. The first face I long to see, the
last when darkness falls. In a world of cross agendas Gail is one of the
few people who rises above the fray. Totally honest and deeply
compassionate. A power dry wit that fires with laser accuracy. A gifted
health provider who has literally saved dozens of lives. I’m honored to be
her partner and try as best as I can to bring, mirth, whimsy, and joy to
her life.

3. Just the Way I See It

To inflict minor mental anguish on my niece is a joy unparalleled. Case in
point while on long trips in a car all music most be categorized as one of
the following: Love Song or Lullaby. Not an easy thing to do with the
Dropkick Murphys, but doable. I once tried to make the argument for Whip
it by Devo under love song, but Zen was having none of that and countered
with: It’s just the type of Lullaby to sing after reading: Go the Fuck To
Sleep. Ok all of you try this! Star Spangled Banner: Love Song or
Lullaby?

SERENDIPITY

All you need is love, they say.

I disagree. What you really need is to be completely lacking in morals and integrity; to be utterly ruthless and completely without compassion.

If you can back that up with fanaticism, lethal firepower and an iron fist, then trust me, you’ll have the upper hand over mere love every time.

Ask any despotic tyrant to choose between love or brute force and I can tell you what their answer will be.

And the best thing of all… The harsher you treat them, the stronger and deeper the love your minions have for you.

TURA

Love, or,

A memory of my father, all that remains

———

My father’s first love was the violin. He could have made it his career, but with a family to support after the War, and no job security in the music profession, he went into school teaching. He came to hate the job, but lived by his choices.

He had character. Seriousness. Proficient at everything he did: music, golfing, fly fishing, supporting a family. An iron constitution too, until the smoking caught up with him.

He died at 74, and I still regret not having known him better. But all his generation are gone now, and only fragments of memory remain.

MUNSI

Romance

By Christopher Munroe

I hate them.

I hate them all.

These fucking people with their fucking love, celebrating as though it made them special.

It does not make them special, they are not special. Nobody is special, and nothing means anything.

But you can’t tell them that, because they must celebrate love.

“Ooooooh!” they say, “Surely my perfect love will protect me from the icy hand of death!”

Nothing will protect you from the icy hand of death.

And as I sit here, in my turtleneck and beret, smoking long, black cigarettes, I hold them in nothing but the most abject of contempt…

ZACKMANN

My friend who works for an ad firm got me into one of those “If you love it why don’t you marry it?” ads. Since I love Lefse, I was happy to do it. Until someone told the police I ate my wife. I didn’t actually marry the lefse. My current cellphone provider doesn’t have roaming outside of North America. My real life wife, who is in fact not lefse, is visiting family in Asia. If you can’t explain that to the judge at least keep me from being sentenced until the end of the month when she returns home.

NORVAL JOE

Dergle drove away from the Widow Finklestien’s house wondering how she could remember Long John, but not himself. How much time had he spent at her home in the last six months since the Dolly Cockles were born?

Certainly, he had lost confidence in himself, even stopped believing in himself, but should that have caused those who were close to him to forget him completely?

Bambi still remember him. Does that mean she likes him more than Widow Finklestien did?

He turned to the dog in the passenger seat. “You’ll always love me, won’t you, boy?”

Long John barked, “Yes.”

PLANET Z

On Valentine’s Day.
Back in grade school.
We’d bring in shoe boxes.
In art class, we’d decorate the shoe boxes.
With glitter, sparkles, and ribbons.
And make mailboxes for valentines.
Then, in homeroom, we’d put out the mailboxes.
And go from mailbox to mailbox.
Putting in our valentines.
No roses. No chocolates. No diamonds. No necklaces.
No fancy cards, either.
Just cheap store-bought, dollar-a-bag slips of paper.
With crappy art and words on them.
Today, I made a shoebox mailbox.
And left it out on my desk.
Five minutes later, my cat was it in.
Asleep.
Best valentine ever.

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:

• Norval Joe
• Tom
• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Charlie
• Richard
• Ami
• Aubrey
• Serendipity
• Tura
• Lizzie
• Danny
• Planet Z

NORVAL JOE

It’s been said that ,Fact is stranger than fiction.

For example…

There is a South America bat that lives in Andean caves that can neither see nor hear. It navigates by its acute sense of smell and actually lures its prey to it by imitating insect pheromones in the gas that it passes.

There is a six toed, brown, tree sloth that is so fat and moves so slowly that they have been captured and used as throw pillows without having to kill and skin them.

In retrospect, since I made up these examples, maybe fiction is stranger than fact.

TOM

There Will Be Hell to Pay

Nearly all hope way gone when the stranger road into the valley. Mary Ann
was the first to see him, and like wild fire that sighting ran through the
town. He didn’t say a word as he tied the pale horse to the front of the
dry goods store. He whisper in the ear of Old Ezra, who sent Young Ezra to
the backroom for the case of silver bullets. The stranger carefully loaded
seven colts and made his way to the sheriff’s office. Propped in a chair
outside the jail he waited for dusk. When darkness fell, they came.

MUNSI

The Doors

By Christopher Munroe

People are strange, when you’re a stranger.

Faces look ugly, when you are ugly.

Women seem wicked, when you are wicked.

Streets are an evil place, when you’re evil.

When you’re strange, faces come out and are strange.

When you’re strange, no one remembers you’re strange.

When you’re strange.

When you’re strange…

Or something like that. I’ll admit, I’ve never paid close attention to the song.

I did enough drugs in high school to believe Pink Floyd were the greatest band in history, but I didn’t, and will never, do enough drugs to believe that Jim Morrison was a poet…

JEFFREY

Pilgrimage
by Jeffrey Fischer

The stranger ambled into the village. His eyes shifted left, then right, but he saw no one. This was the first habitation he had found in days, and he was hoping to restock his food and water with the little cash that remained.

He opened the door to the general store and was assailed by the smell of death. A woman, presumably the proprietress, lay on the floor in a state of decay. He bent over her, trying to discover whether her death was from natural causes. Pustules on her face suggested some kind of pox. It wasn’t a stretch to think the rest of the village shared her fate.

With no wasted movements, he took the supplies he needed and set off. The next few days would show whether he also brought anything unwanted with him.

Stranger than Fiction
by Jeffrey Fischer

Robert Heinlein was a towering figure in the Golden Age of science fiction. He wrote for children as well as adults. He wrote space opera tales of rockets and colonization of the Moon and wars with aliens, but he also wrote on more serious themes in his “future history” series, and in later novels such as “Stranger in a Strange Land” and “Time Enough for Love.” Many teenaged boys were fascinated with the themes in these books, perhaps not least that of removal of restraints on sexual behavior. An endless parade of hot, willing women seemed like a good idea to the mind of the teenaged male. Unfortunately, as they were to learn, that particular conceit might have been the biggest fiction of all.

CHARLIE

My shaman was a total stranger when he first started teaching me how to get high without drugs. He sold cars, but he accumulated some money, and had a nice house in the hills. His method used crystals and stones. When placed on various chakras, including The Kundalini, my shaman would wait until the stones absorbed the forces, then he would pick the largest stone and make a tea out of it, drinking it down quickly while it was still full of all the essential juices. Those of us in the class thought he was a bit of a perv.

#2

When I was in kindergarten, Mum admonished me about talking to strangers. She described Stranger Danger saying I was destined to get accosted, kidnapped, beaten, killed, then gang raped if I talked to any strangers. She put the fear in me early on, as I was wary of speaking to anyone at all if I were out alone, or if I got separated from either parent when shopping or out for a walk. After school today, I was at the corner and a white van pulled alongside. The driver motioned to me to get inside. I never uttered a word.

#3

She grew stranger and stranger as the years passed and as she continued smoking crack. She lost things as she moved through the aisles at Walmart, and by the time she was at the check stand, she started screaming and babbling that someone stole her baby, her dog, her purse, and her coat. She would curl into a tight ball, tuck in her legs, curl up on the floor, and bawl until the manager and assistant manager put her in a shopping cart and took her to the parking lot. Crazy Daisey was never locked up or ordered into rehab.

#4

Bart bragged about getting a bit of strange when he was in England. He went to a dance in Hoddesdon, and met a pert young lady. When he approached her and asked her for a dance, she told him to fuck off. He busted out in laughter and I suppose she was so shocked by his reaction, her defenses were dropped, so they danced for the rest of the night. He slipped her a couple of Roofies he always carried in a little, metal pill box he wore around his neck, and it was straight to the snooch in minutes.

RICHARD

Dragon rage

After the many trials he’d endured so far, the hobbit was no stranger to danger, but this was by far the closest he, or his companions had come to death.

Hurriedly, Boggins started stuffing his pockets with gold, only to find, with a sinking heart, that the weight made it impossible to run.

Another roar, this time closer, filled the forest and, suddenly, his travelling companions appeared, fleeing for their lives.

“Do something!” they cried, tearing past.

Then the dragon was upon him!

Flinging handfuls of gold as far as he could, the hobbit shouted: “Fetch!” before diving for cover!

AMI

The SL Stranger Strangler

I fondle the soft, black, knitted ski mask in my left hand, the piano wire stretched between two wooden grips in the other.

Puzzle pieces dropped in chats over time belied your identity. Sincere and sweetly seductive declarations shared between us were only means to your satisfied end. Now, I’ll have mine. No, you’re not the first.

The Greyhound hums and closes the gap; have your fantasy with another. You’ll be mine soon.

My garrote, my equalizer; your size and strength no match. I’ve known the ultimate orgasm as fingers claw at the unrelenting strangle-hold, bleeding, eyes pleading. You really never knew us.

AUBREY

My best friend takes me down rabbit holes now and then. Most of the time I don’t even realize she’s done it until we’re already falling. She takes my hand, and leaps headfirst down, and I can’t help but be pulled along with her.

But I like that sensation, free falling towards an adventure, even though I’m terrified to jump. Too many people in the past pushed me down the rabbit hole but didn’t jump.

Now I like the thrill when things get curiouser and curiouser. Strange and then stranger.

It’s not an adventure, unless things get a little weird.

SERENDIPITY

That person, staring at you as you squirm uncomfortably on the bus.

That person, pressing in, far too closely, as you wait in the queue.

That person, waving their fist from behind the wheel as they cut in front at the junction.

That person, who bumped you, spilling your drink, before melting into the crowd.

That person, you wave to across the street, only to realise – acutely embarrassed – you don’t know them at all.

That person, you pass in the subway, without looking before hurrying away.

That person: The perfect stranger, nameless and faceless.

That person, is me.

TURA

Stranger

———

When the gods were new, they assembled together to know what they should do.

“I have made a strange thing,” said one. And he showed a vast universe of whirling balls of fire.

Another said, “I will make a stranger.” And he punctured that universe with many holes, and inside each he showed that self-same universe reflected.

A third said, “I will make yet stranger.” On a tiny lump of rock he created a host of small figures that fought among themselves, and took themselves to be gods.

“This is the strangest thing,” they agreed. “Let us call it ‘Man’.”

LIZZIE

“I’m sorry,” said the stranger before hanging up.
She was perplexed. Probably a wrong number, but still… a bit creepy.
When she turned off the light, she didn’t notice the slight creaking of the entrance door and a shadow walking towards her bed. Drowsy, she only felt a slight sting on her neck.
No one ever saw her again.
The only thing they found was a card on her nightstand saying “Gone”.

She would come back, years later. She too would call someone to say “I’m sorry”. That was the price to be free. And she had to pay it.

DANNY

I’m a stranger in the eyes of myself. All the hopes and dreams of my obnoxious youth has faded in the cold harsh rain of reality. Dis-barred, dis-enfranchised, dis-owned, dis-loved, dis-respected, simply dissed by every level of society. The words of truth carry a very heavy price, because the words will not be heard by the weak, cursed by the enfranchised, and dismissed by those who actually own literally everything we take for granted. We bought into the lie of freedom and justice for all, when in reality, there is just the fictional liberal boogieman we are trained to kick.

PLANET Z

The fortune cookie said: “Help a stranger.”

After I paid my bill and walked out the door, there was a homeless guy standing there asking for help.

“Hi stranger,” he said. “Can you help me? I need five bucks.”

Which explained why I got a fortune cookie at a shoe repair shop.

And it wasn’t as much a cookie as an orange rind wrapped around shoe cardboard.

The fortune was written on it in shaky block print. The same as the bum’s sign.

“Just five bucks,” he said.

I helped him into the street with a kick to the ass.