A Quick Snip

Grapes are always the go-to example: still purple and plump just seedless now, no lasting side-effects. My wife and the female doctor concur. I'm thinking laser as I agree.

I ease onto the metal bench outside the clinic as the local wears off. Once we decided to adopt, having our own kids didn't seem right. She's with her doctor right now. A session to get her over the trauma of my procedure.

I need a session also. To confirm I was insane for ever saying yes. My groin's throbbing and I'm not thinking grapes anymore. It's raisins, useless, shriveled raisins.

From Guest Contributor Garry Gunnerson

Vacation 2250

Still a little queasy, she stepped out of the ‘Beach Hut,’ glad the temporal capsule was not constrained to contemporary hygiene amenities.

Feeling vulnerable in her figure-hugging woollen tank suit – despite built-in modesty shorts – she moved to the water’s edge and marvelled at the carefree gambolling of the beachgoers: naive inhabitants of the Interwar Era, taking time off from the trials of the Great Depression.

Her ocular bioscan implant picked him out from the crowd: Tommy.

She grinned at the one-piece swimsuit her great-grandfather wore.

Translucent seawater free of corrosive algae was an emotional revelation.

She hadn’t expected to cry.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Disembodied

Glassy unseeing eyes stare out from rows of faces. Bloodless lips frame mouths, some closed, some open displaying teeth, some smiling, and some solemn. Disarticulated limbs lie about. Arms and legs in varying degrees of flexion and extension wait, motionless. Hair wigs of different colors and textures, long and short, decorate the windowsills of the dark and silent room. Headless torsos, male and female, some nude, some partially clothed, some prone, some supine, so lifelike yet so inanimate, complete the macabre scene.

On Monday morning, workers arrive to begin another week of readying manikins for the department store’s window display.

From Guest Contributor Judy Salz

And That's That

“How are you really, dear?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you can tell me.”

“I am telling you. I’m just fine.”

“Are you getting out?”

“I’m out right now.”

“With someone.”

“I’m here with you.”

“A man! Are you seeing anyone?”

“I see a lot of men, mother. I’m not dating anyone, if that’s what you want to know”.

“What about that nice young man…”

“He’s married.”

“Oh.”

“You know, mom, I met this wonderful sixty-year-old man.”

“Oh, darling, sixty?”.

“He’s perfect. He’s dying to get laid.”

“JENNIFER!”

“I gave him your number. Have you had the chicken salad here?”

From Guest Contributor Jean Blasiar

Prescience

Liam awoke from a phantasm where puppy-like pigs defecated down his back, their feigned embraces weighing him down so much that he was left behind by his peers as he strove to participate in some great undefined quest.

As sleep dispersed, he really hoped it was allegorical. He dragged himself to the bathroom for ablutions and a shower. Today’s staff outing should clear all that from his head.

The phone rang, interrupting the ‘bathing therapy.’ He answered, dripping.

“Hello.”

“Liam, Jeremy here.” Head zookeeper.

“Pete’s called in sick, would you relocate the vampire bats to their new enclosure?”

Hell.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Cage Fighter

Emmet never gets scared. He is a terrifically talented mixed martial artist; flexible, strong, unpredictable.

His rise through the rankings has been steady. Probably get a shot at a universally regarded title next year.

The opportunity to compete tonight arose unexpectedly when one of the fighters withdrew suddenly, for reasons which were never fully explained.

Emmet took the fight at short notice, no questions asked.

As his second I follow him into the cage.

“I’m scared,” says Emmet as his opponent, a hideous alien lumbers into the cage. “The way they spoke, I was expecting to fight another human being.”

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry is an actor and writer who lives in Brisbane, Australia.

Barry's other stories may be found in Cyclamens & Swords, 50 Word Stories and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

At Least It Gets Me To Work And Back

I pass the dump truck parade on my way to work, and I pray the spider cracks in the windshield of my creaking and shaking and ground-scraping savior will remain intact until tomorrow. But this is the end for it. The heavy glass shatters on me, pouring down with a ripping gust of gravel and unpaid bills. I cover my scrunched face to protect from the impending costs. I bleed my next paycheck into the repairs. There is a new scar on my credit report, just next to my student loan debt. My last breath is spent coughing up pennies.

From Guest Contributor Stacy Gorse

They Worked Together, In New York

"Most people are Virgos - know why?" I do. Nine months before September is commonly cold; nowhere to go but bed. The I.T. guy thinks he’s flirting but now I’m just picturing my parents.

We are so many, they economize. One cake only - sheet, naturally - with plastic balloons and red and blue frosting. Children’s cake. We begin to reveal our birth dates around the break room, and I fade away.

Later, the liquor store clerk pity-frowns at my I.D. "Man,” he says, “bet your birthday sucks.” I got nothing to add, except at least I’m around to celebrate it.

From Guest Contributor Vera Duffy

Vera is a semi-retired Mexican wrestler living in Los Angeles. Her work has appeared in Puppet Terror magazine and the L.A. Alternative Press.

Career

A holiday in Hawaii proved to be a great way to celebrate my ten years’ service with the company. In my absence, a new department head was appointed. The morning of my return, the boss walked in and introduced himself.

“Xavier Truex, your new department head. If you would like to resign now, I will give you a glowing reference. Sooner is better than later.”

“Why would I resign? I mean, I’ve just celebrated ten years' highly rated service with the company.”

“My girlfriend is looking to change jobs. She has experience in this area.”

I feel the screws tightening.

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

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

What We Might Deserve

The snarling saw cuts off and the groaning fir drunk on gravity takes its first step. A full ocean is born in the soughing fall and over four centuries whumps the earth like a five-dollar moll on a sprung stained mattress. And you stand there, hands numb and belly tight and you wonder why something so old saves its final words for someone like you. Someone who knows the glass bite of gin straight from the bottle while slouched at the tilt kitchen table as rain plunks a pan on the floor near the hot squat stove in the corner.

From Guest Contributor Casey Hampton