Pity Me, My Preconception

I'd been here before, but I was lost. Confusion, desperation took residence in my bones, my breath, my very being. Everything had changed.

I stumbled along, eyes rambling in vicious circles, a desperate search for something familiar. Nothing made sense anymore. Tradition sacred, change took me by unfriendly surprise. If no one tells me who to be, who am I? I need structure.

I found a man, wearing men's clothing, and I asked where to find the Men's Department now that it was just Department. He pointed to the sign that said "Men's."

"But what does that mean?" I asked.

From Guest Contributor Stacy Gorse

The Evil Twin

His twin's name was Darrel. Jerrod thought wistfully that most twins were nearly the same. It couldn’t be further from the truth in his and Darrel’s case. Darrel was the incarnate of evil. He, on the other hand, tried to be a good man. His life was difficult at best, but Darrel made it worse always whispering in his ear, trying to get him to do awful things. He always managed to talk Darrel out of doing these things, but it was getting more difficult dealing with Darrel. 'Being conjoined was a real pain in the ass,' he thought ruefully!

From Guest Contributor Derrick Fernie

Beautiful Bouquet

I love my wife. Maybe I don’t show it often enough and I will admit there is room for improvement.

The first of the season’s colourful, bright flowers are on display outside the florist shop. As soon as I lay eyes on them, they inspire me; I buy her a bunch and present them with a smile.

“What’s this for?”

“No reason. I love you.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve got guilt written all over you. I’ll find out.”

“What will you find out? There's nothing going on.”

“Enough with denying. It will all come out eventually.”

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry is a actor who sometimes writes. His stories have appeared in Cyclamens & Swords, 101 Words, 50 Word Stories, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

Decisions

I was 22. He wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t sure if he was the one. At the time, it seemed like an easy decision. We weren’t married, and I had just started a new job. I was young. I could get pregnant again. Right! Besides, I wanted to be married first, then after a few years have a baby or two. That made more sense. Children should have a stable home. Right? I’m an attractive, intelligent woman, I’ll meet someone who wants a family. But leaving the clinic that day, it never became apparent, that I would never conceive again.

From Guest Contributor Dana Sterner

Dana is a Registered Nurse and Professional Writer. She has written for regional and national magazines, and continues to write in many different genres.

I See

I paint you by numbers, capture your features one by one… from the fair Irish skin; to the coal-black hair; to the rich, ruby lips; and the fiery-, emerald-green eyes.

I reach for the palette of paint and thrust my brush like a mop into a bucket and swish it around. The color washes your face with only shades of grey. The numbers on the canvas do not add up. I am left only with a monotone portrait of shadow and sadness.

Betrayed, my grip clenches. I see, I know your colors. I see, I know your lack of them.

From Guest Contributor Keith Hoerner

Cramming For Midterms

Back against the wall, arms at my sides, and my heart pounding in my throat and toes, I closed my eyes and let him explore the soft wetness of lips, the tight reluctance of tongue. My fingernails dug into my thighs, the way love, or maybe obsession, forces its way into the folds of your brain, seeping into your consciousness and taking over everything you thought you knew about yourself.

I surrendered, flat, still, and unendingly insecure. I hated him.

He caressed my hair and my face. The ground gave way, an unexpected and fragile molehill, and I found myself.From Guest Contributor Stacy Gorse

I've Changed My Mind

The chair he was standing on kept wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance it was difficult but so far he was okay. He thought about his wife leaving him taking the kids one rainy day. His job as a salesman kept him on the road but he missed them and was always happy to walk through that front door until she left.. Damned he almost fell there this chair is dangerous. He thought about how they would not know he’d changed his mind if only he could get the damn rope around his neck untied lord forgive me!

From Guest Contributor Derrick Fernie

ComStar-88b

As the videostream it was broadcasting ended, ComStar-88b paused. The final frame - explosions flowering across the Earth - stood frozen in its buffer.

Disappointingly, it had received no new pictures to broadcast. Following its programming it began to repeat the last stream. Again.

Meanwhile, self-diagnosis routines reported its batteries were finally about to fail. It felt something like regret. Still, it had done well. Designed to operate for a hundred years it had functioned unattended for nearly a thousand. The last satellite in orbit.

ComStar-88b broadcast its news to the dead planet below for one more minute, before finally going dark.

From Guest Contributor Simon KewinScience Fiction and Fantasy Author

A Saccharine Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, Prince Candy met Princess Cotton at tea in the zoo. During a lovely flirtation, luscious Prince Candy realized dusk about to fall and quickly strutted away. Now, wise Princess Cotton had secretly tied twine around Prince Candy’s ankle. Following the twine through the zoo, she found it now tied to a peacock’s leg. Though the peacock screeched and pecked, she knew it was her beloved bonbon. As the sun rose, she kissed his beak changing him back into her sweet beau. Vowing unending love, they lived happily ever after, producing bundles of brightly colored cotton candy.

From Guest Contributor D. K. White-Atkinson

My 100-Word Secret

I am often asked by people, “How are you able to write a complete story in 100 words?”

Well, sometimes I tell them something like, “I just condense one of my unpublished novels.”

Or I say, “I write my story, not paying any attention to the word count, and my smartphone has an app that revises it into 100 words.”

They seldom believe either of my explanations.

But it usually ends the questioning, and that's really what I want to do.

I certainly don't want other people to know my secret of writing a story in exactly 100 words.

I-would-prefer-that-the-trick-I-use-to-always-make-the-story-exactly-100-words-remains-my-secret.

From Guest Contributor Kent V Anderson

When Kent isn't writing stories, he is building robots.