Broken

Pixel Dream

“There was a war, a long time ago,” said the father. “They conquered the world.”

A broken fighter plane had been rusting in the open field.

 “Is that why we can’t talk?” the son asked.

His father looked around fearing someone had heard them.

“Don’t say those things, son, you’ll get us in trouble,” the father whispered. “I think we should remove this junk and clean the field.”

The son crossed his arms.

“You know what? I think we should leave it, Dad. One day I’ll bring my son here and tell him about the war, so we don’t forget…”

100 Word Stories

Limp

Purple

She couldn’t believe it. It was him, the man with the limp. The cards were on the table. The fortune teller walked out of the room to fetch a spell. Yes, she would have to pay extra for that. And she was sure the man would be there, waiting for her right around the corner, as he always did for the past months. The spell would take care of it. After all, she wanted to have a prince, not a frog. Months later, after the wedding, she came back to the fortune teller. She needed the spell again. Had it not worked? It had, yes, thank you, but now she was the frog, limping, and her prince was starting to look at other princesses. The fortune teller shrugged, walked out of the room to fetch the spell and thought this marriage would probably not last long, limp or no limp, spell or no spell. Some things are just not meant to be stirred.

Writer's Dash

Avalanche

Strawberry

A storm is coming.

Run,

Hide,

Don’t think.

Trip and stumble

Over thoughts and emotions.

It kills, it kills.

Motionless panic.

Run,

Hide,

Don’t think.

Writer's Dash

Space Junk

The Looking Glass

The play was called “Space Junk”. She didn’t like space. As a matter of fact, she hated space. When invited to join the second group of settlers, she had refused. So, she didn’t know why she was there. Well, she did; his baby blue eyes and that cute smile. When the play started, he excused himself and left. She was furious, especially because she hated anything related to space. The play continued, astronauts, and no gravity-actors held by very visible strings, oxygen drama, lack of fuel, lack of food, lack of water, lack of sense, and stranded on the moon for life, as if life would be very long when one lacked basically everything. She looked around to find him. Nope, he was gone. The characters were all dying on stage, the audience awwwwed with tears in their eyes. She stood up, walked into the corridor and there he was, on the phone. “Yes, I love you too. I’ll be home later, honey, but don’t worry, I am at a meeting. Yes… It came up suddenly. Yes, of course, I will. Mwah, looooove youuuu!” She walked back inside, she sat down, and she lit up a cigarette. After the play, they went to a nice hotel. “I love you! You’re so special to me, honey. Give me a kiss,” he told her, those baby blue eyes flickering with excitement. The next day, the police found an unusual scene. A man had been stabbed with a plastic toy rocket, the one they had at the theater as a souvenir. A piece of paper had been placed on his bloodied chest. It said “I got rid of my junk."

Writer's Dash

Fission

Finlandia

There is a cabin at the end of the path. At night, strange noises are heard and bright lights are seen from far away. They say a mad scientist lives in that house. They say he makes explosive experiences at night. Nothing terribly dramatic ever happened. There was the occasional green cloud of dust, the blue duck waddling through the neighborhood, and the goose that had a coat of polka dot feathers. At the door, a “Keep Out” sign. No one wanted to become blue or green or polka dotted, so they did. One day though, curiosity got the best out of a group of them and they went up to the cabin. Cautiously, silently, they approached. When they stepped through the door, a strange smell overpowered them. It was intense. It was so intense they collapsed and saw that the sky was turning purple. A crisp voice coming from the corner of the room said “curiosity is such a bitter sweet feeling, isn’t it?” There was a cabin at the end of the path. Now there is just a huge hole where no one dares to go, a hole filled with green and blue… polka dots.

Writer's Dash