The Retreating River

Peering through the tinted windows, she saw the river’s glittering trickle and the constellation of shiny debris scattered over the vast expanse of sand. Plate-sized, they glinted in promise. Starfish? Shells? Ornaments discarded as the river retreated to curl down in a corner?

Sliding back the glass, she blinked. Stark sunlight shone down on a thousand shell-bright paper plates, discarded as family picnics retreated to idle their way home, say their twilight prayers, curl down in a corner, and let the television flash blindly off their faces.

The train blew past the retreating river with barely a sigh, as always. From Guest Contributor Aparna Nandakumar

Aparna lives in Calicut, India, and writes poems and short stories. Her work has previously been published at Atticus Review and A Story in 100 Words, and is forthcoming at Cafe Dissensus and Red River Review.

Other People's Weather

No one had been expecting snow this far south. The local meteorologists all insisted the snow would stop at least a hundred miles north of here. How wrong they were, Dee thought as he stepped outside and was immediately blanketed in large, chunky snowflakes. They had a bona fide blizzard on their hands. Dee smiled, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the specter of a yeti ambling across the street and into a neighbor’s backyard. No one, not even the yeti, would ever know how Dee managed to steal other people’s weather and bring it here.

From Guest Contributor, Dan Slaten

Bankruptcy

The company declared bankruptcy this morning. Everyone is in shock. No-one saw it coming.

Overnight the company’s liquid assets vanished. No-one seems to know why or how.

In a numb state, I work as quickly as possible preparing the forms and statements the incoming Liquidator will require. My heart is not in it.

The Directors need to sign the documents. I enter the Boardroom freely, the door isn’t locked.

The five directors are standing around the boardroom table. Each has a suitcase open on a chair beside him. The table creaks under the weight of the cash piled on it.From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry O'Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's stories have appeared in Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

Worker

The sparse landscape spread in every direction. There were mountains to be sure, a flat white one to this left and a glass tower to the right, but there was no food within actual reach.

Jim crawled forward, then back, then to the left and right. An observer might think his path random, but Jim's instinct told him that the best way to find food was this haphazard approach.

He panicked when the giant approached. Only its torso was visible above the horizon, but Jim went hurdling in the other direction.

He wished he'd never left the hill this morning.

The Vigil

Even to this day I curse, swear and kick myself for having dozed off that painful night. Though I kept vigil all through her illness, the feeling of guilt has never subsided.

She was my strength.

I knew the meaning of the cloudy eyes and immobility. After three consecutive nights, the strain on my eyes was too much and I slipped. It was at such a weak moment she chose to give up her fight...that hurt me.

My being awake at her last moments would mean nothing, but I feel guilty for expecting the death of my loving pet.

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.

One Of A Kind

She was impeccable. His mentor. Love. Tears clouded his vision as he viewed their life together through photos he flipped.

“You ought to take better care of yourself,” she often scolded. He wanted to say the same to her. Couldn’t. He closed the album with her smile nestling in the recesses of his mind.

A wooden box nearby cradled ripe peaches. One had gone bad.

He thought of her, his mom. How she would have dealt with it promptly. Not like him.

He grumbled at the cancer that had wasted her body. Lifted the rotten fruit and threw it out.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her fiction and poetry have recently been published online and in journals at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, A Story in 100 Words, 101 Words, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, and espresso stories. Her nonfiction has appeared in flash fiction chronicles and in Wild Lands Advocate. Krystyna resides in Alberta, Canada.

The Conductor

Sunil's adolescent fantasy of being a bus conductor was now fulfilled. Nubile women pressed against him in strategic spots, he smirked.

At Valanchery, a horde of schoolgirls boarded. Sunil could barely squeeze through to sell tickets. This was heaven.

At Vattappara, thirteen aunties got on. Commuters. Other passengers were in hell. Sunil attained paradise. Though paradise was slightly suffocating.

At Kakkad, the tension eased slightly, but before Sunil could exhale, twenty quavering old biddies surged into the bus. A handbag knocked against Sunil's temple.

When the bus pulled into Ramanattukara bus stand, Sunil was no longer in this world. Literally.

From Guest Contributor Aparna Nandakumar

Aparna lives in Calicut, India, and writes stories and poems. Her work has been published in Atticus Review and previously at 100 Words, and is forthcoming in Cafe Dissensus and Red River Review.

Storm Damage

I’m a lucky lady. I have a wonderful lover in my life. A younger man. An enthusiastic younger man.

Lovemaking sessions are spontaneous, passionate and spicy. Lately we have been able to see a lot of each other. It is great.

I was annoyed he didn’t drive here immediately to help me with the post-storm clean up. The house is fine; the yard a carpet of leaves and branches.

Calmly, I put things into proper perspective.

-I have no right to put demands on him.-He can’t be on call.-My husband will fly home tomorrow from his overseas posting.

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry O'Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's other stories can be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story in 100 Words.

Pre-Order Quitting The Grave

I'm very happy to announce that Quitting The Grave, my first full-length novel, is now available for pre-order.

Quitting The Grave Book Teaser from Entropy Squared on Vimeo.

If you want to read the first chapter, all you have to do is sign up for my monthly newsletter and I will send you a link to download a free preview. OR, follow me on Twitter, and tweet out "@doctorentropy2 I want to read the first chapter of #QuittingTheGrave" I'll PM you the download link.Eugene, Oregon. October, 1999. After three graves robberies--in each instance, the abducted corpse was a John Doe--the police have few leads and little interest in the case. Caya Blumenshine, a reporter for the local newspaper, canvasses Eugene, questioning anarchists, wyccans, and politicians, until her search hits upon a secluded house on the outskirts of the city. Its owner, Alexander Hilyard, a history-writing hermit who hasn't been seen in years, may be involved in the grave robberies, or may have been the most recent victim.Fort Vancouver, 1830’s. A trading outpost on the Columbia River is charged with harvesting as many furs as possible for the Hudson Bay Company, while at the same time discouraging American pioneers from settling in the region. Dr. McLoughlin, the chief factor, and his three adopted sons find the undertaking challenged by the arrival of Jason Lee and his Methodist missionaries, who seem more interested in establishing a new territorial government than converting any natives.Fort Wayne, Indiana, 1846. After the murder of her father, Helen Hunsaker wants nothing more than to escape the strictures of a society that views women as second-class citizens. She sets out on the Oregon Trail hoping to find a measure of freedom not afforded to her by her family circumstances or gender. Unfortunately, a spurned suitor chases after her and will apparently stop at nothing to win her hand in marriage.Three stories that span more than 150 years of American history, united by a shocking mystery. Will Caya be able to discover the truth? And how far will people go to keep their secrets buried?In addition to the regular Kindle version, iPad owners have the option of purchasing an enhanced version, made possible thanks to the generous support provided by my Kickstarter backers.The enhanced version of Quitting The Grave, available exclusively on the iPad, features more than 35 videos and 100+ photographs, illustrations, and maps that will help readers learn about the true history behind the stories and characters of Quitting The Grave.To pre-order Quitting The Grave, visit Amazon. And for the enhanced version, check out iTunes(The Enhanced Version will be available starting February 28th).

Quitting The Grave Trailer from Entropy Squared on Vimeo.

Quitting The Grave goes on sale February 28th! Pre-order today.

The Button

Blake sat alone in the cell. He only had the bar of soap his guards had given him, and a button he'd smuggled under his tongue.

Alone. Alone. It had been 17 days now. He knew it was 17 days, because each morning, he made a mark in the soap with his button. There were 17 marks for 17 days.

For those 17 days, his only contact with the outside world was the metal plate they slid through the door at mealtime.

17 days to contemplate his crime, his smuggled button the only thing keeping his sanity from slipping away.