Sunday, July 17, 2016

Endless

Pure Dreams


She sat and listened to the world around her. The wind whispered softly. The tree branches murmured familiar words from the past. She tried not to listen. She tried. The branches rustled louder, threatening to undermine her determination. And she looked beyond the line dividing the horizon in two, that line so rugged, so hilly, so full of pain. She closed her eyes and whispered with the wind. And she sat, she just sat, and listened to the world around her, an endless string of promises filled her with hope. A day, only a day, and everything would be different.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Wings

Octoberville

The tombstone in her parents’ garden had an overgrown buzzing cactus leaning over it. Victoria wondered why it had no names, no dates. She got married, moved away. After three miscarriages and a divorce, Victoria visited the tombstone. Suddenly, there were four names on it, the names of her babies and her own “Died June 10 1819”. As she pondered about it, the cactus, home to a nest of killer bees, fell on her. Barely a body anymore when found, Victoria, the heir of a huge fortune, was buried at the Pauper’s Cemetery. Still, no one cared about that tombstone.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Animal

Annwn Willows


“My friend, I've killed Mrs. Squirrel.”
Pam looked at the talking squirrel in shock but decided to play along.
“Where did you bury her?”
“I didn't. I put her up on the wall.”
“What?”
“I’ll show you.”
Mrs. Squirrel’s head was indeed mounted above the mantelpiece.
“There was a problem,” said Mr. Squirrel.
“Only one?!”
“The biggest one was that I drank from this bottle. I was thirsty.”
The label read “Back to Nature”.
“I never thought it would actually turn me into an animal.”
Pam shook her head. “That damned snake oil salesman. We’ll get the antidote from him.”

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Feather Brain?

Forgotten City
“Hey, feather brain, wake up!”
Peter straightened up and tilted his head to one side, then to the other.
“I’m awake.”
“What’s your task for today?”
“I don’t know.”
“Go to the Task Dispenser and press a number.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I accomplished it.”
“You were sleeping. How could you have accomplished anything?”
Peter searched his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of paper he handed to the robot. It stated “Take the day off”.
The robot stormed away in a fit of rage, screaming.
“Who hacked the Task Dispenser again? If I catch you, you’ll be sorry. I swear.”

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Clear

Mystical Falls

A small window allowed him a narrow view of the world. He liked that. A seagull flew by every now and then. And he just did his job.
That night, he didn't do his job; that’s what the money was for. In sheer darkness, he turned a blind eye. He sat down, his back towards the money piled up on the table.
The next morning, when he read the news, he climbed to the top of the lighthouse and jumped. In his mind, he became a seagull flying in a clear blue sky, carrying that kid who had been kidnapped.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Disemboweled Regret

Milk Wood

The tomb was empty. Everyone panicked.
The searches lasted weeks.
Some believed the body was stolen. Others, that the lost soul would haunt a neighboring town, considering no haunting-related problems occurred.
The searches stopped.
A fortnight later, a ghostly voice roared “Do you regret it now?”
Everyone recognized it. It was homeless John who littered the streets for weeks. They asked him to leave. He refused. The town decided to solve the problem swiftly.
He was back now. Every morning, someone showed up dead, disemboweled and displayed in front of the town hall, just like it had happened to him.

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Your Earliest Memory

FrancePortnawak

“I died and went to Heaven. Heaven is very cold. My wife ordered me to bring a pullover. She knitted it for me. The last thing I recall is those men forcing me to wear it. Heaven is also quite intriguing. I thought I’d meet God, angels, and good-hearted people but my earliest memory of being in Heaven is when I almost turned into food. Now, I’m a pet. Good thing growling Mathilda (as I call her) is warm and cuddly. Still today, I wonder why my wife sent me to Heaven, although I seriously doubt it’s really called Heaven.”

Sunday, May 29, 2016

What's for Dinner?

Asalia House

The children looked at their plates, disappointed.
“Can’t we have something different for a change?”
“Be grateful, there’s food on the table,” replied the headmistress.
Some of the kids sulked, others refused to eat. When lunch ended, most of the food went back to the kitchen, untouched.
“What should I do with this?” asked the head cook.
“Give it to the dogs. There’s no room in the fridge. And when you go by the cemetery later today, don’t bring the hands. The kids don’t like seeing fingers floating in the soup. Oh, well, at least the dogs will be happy.”

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Flight

Tierra de Fuego

Cramped in their seats, no one moved. No one could move. The flights had become sheer torture. The number of seats increased but no one complained because the prices were irresistible. When the row started at the back, no one gave it much thought. It was only understandable. When the frantic voice of the stewardess asked people to remain seated, no one reacted. When a clearly tense captain announced an emergency landing, most were relieved. When the emergency crews arrived, the biggest piece to be found was the size of a handbag. Dirt cheap, said the flight advertisement. So true.