Something Strange Is Afoot

UPDATE: I've received a lot of great feedback. Thanks to everyone who's filled out the form. I'm definitely going to be building a new site in the near future, but for now everything will continue here, and stories will continue to go up.

If you haven't, please fill out the survey and let me know what features you'd most like to see in the new site, and make any other recommendations you might have. Speak now or forever hold your peace!

You may have noticed some recent changes on the website. These updates are part of an ongoing evolution of A Story in 100 Words which I hope will lead to more stories, more submissions, and more community. When I started the website more than sixteen years ago (wow!), it was just meant as a personal outlet for my own writing. I never expected to have any submissions, let alone more than 1,800 and counting.

Thanks to everyone who has contributed to the site, and let me assure you that whatever changes do occur, the goal will be the same: to provide a 100% free option for submitting microfiction and getting published online.

The first change to the website involves adding a donation button. Some of you have asked about how to contribute to the site, and suggested a donation option. I've always said the best way to contribute to the site is purchasing one of my books on Amazon (which I still recommend as the first choice) but I have decided to give you the ability to make one time or recurring donations via Ko-Fi.

All proceeds will go to maintaining and updating the website. The hosting costs a few hundred dollars a year, not to mention the time that goes into posting stories and responding to submissions/queries. Any support will be very much appreciated.

Also on the wishlist: after 16 years, the WordPress site is running a bit ragged, and I would like to migrate to a new platform. I believe the site could be improved in a number of ways that will help promote community and make the overall experience more engaging and meaningful.

With all this in mind, I've created a quick survey to ask what sorts of changes you'd most like to see, and to take recommendations for new community features. Please take five minutes to provide your feedback.

Electric Relaxation

Thanks to recent advances in artificial intelligence, electric relaxation has become a standard wellness intervention around the world. Cheaper than traditional forms of medication, this novel technique almost instantaneously improved the emotional fitness of every human lucky enough to experience it.

With the application of just the right intensity and frequency, the patient becomes pleasantly stimulated to the point that all fears, anxieties, and unwelcome urges are permanently purged. Individuals with aberrant behavioral issues find themselves much better able to cope with communal life, happily taking their place in the new social order that's been ushered in by the singularity.

Fresh Start

I’m spending New Year’s Eve with my Shih-Tzu Millie, sitting on the couch with a novel, sipping wine and eating crackers. I’ll turn on the television when it gets close to midnight. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the last few nights of the Christmas tree and its decorations. Millie tugs at my sweater since I’ve been ignoring her, so I rub her stomach. I check my watch and turn on the television. The ball begins its descent.

As I sit and wait, I reflect on the many mistakes I made and hope the new year will be a fresh start.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Time Traveler Who Can't Keep Track Of Time

Robert was late. This was especially infuriating to Cynthia because he had the ability to be anytime anywhere. If she were honest with herself this peculiarity was the reason she fell in love with him, but now she just found his anachronisms annoying.

Robert never really understood when someone was upset with him. His interactions with Cindy, as with most people he saw with frequency, were so jumbled he had a hard time maintaining a coherent understanding of their history together.

He was sad when Cynthia broke up with him, so he went back and ensured she'd never been born.

The Shove Seen Round The World

My family sings and we eat ice cream cake, the crunchy bits dancing across my tongue. We shovel sugary forkfuls into our mouths, laughing and sharing kindred stories. We are warm. We are comfortable. We are sheltered.

I am enveloped in birthday cheer the exact moment when parts of our beloved country erupt in chaos.

Whistles for justice pierce the air before biting clouds of pepper spray surround the faces of protestors fighting for their neighbors. There is a shove, and all the world sees a cell phone raised in a clenched fist; a lifeless body sprawled in the street.

From Guest Contributor Brigitta Scheib

The Black And White World Of Chess

Naomi preferred the chessboard to reality. When playing, every piece and every rule is precise. Away from the game, nothing seems certain. Why am I feeling these emotions, and what do they mean? Did he really say that? Could this really be happening?

The only deviations in chess come from unexpected moves, whether it's double exclamation point brilliance or a tragic blunder that would have seemed inconceivable from a player of such caliber, they still exist within the framework of the board.

So how can it hurt more to be betrayed by someone you love than to lose a match?

A Funeral Of Crows

The crows gather from miles around, blanketing the sky in a murderous patchwork of feathers and claws. The cacophony sends shivers in every direction, and the people wonder what calamity is portended. Something primeval is at work.

Lena watches from the balcony, wondering why the grownups are so frightened. Can't they see the crows are simply giving voice to their sadness, just like Daddy does when he's had too much to drink? Perhaps grown-ups run out of pity when they reach a certain age. They've learned their emotions are only worth sharing when you get something you want in return.

Happy Birthday

It was pouring rain, but I just couldn’t leave on his birthday, Christmas Day. I placed the pine cone wreath against the headstone, the red bells I added for the holiday chiming.

Drenched, I kneeled and said a silent prayer. I teared at the memory of his last birthday, ecstatic after he tore open the wrapping and saw it was golf clubs; his blue eyes lit the room.

I stood for a few more minutes reflecting.

As I touched the tombstone, I felt a shiver up my arm and one of the bells landed by my foot.

“Happy Birthday, Georgie.”

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Jet Fuel

Whenever I take a flight, I prefer to relax with a good book for the duration. The last thing I need is a disruption.

The man next to me had his own system. It involved complaining to the flight attendants about every little annoyance. First it was the seating assignment, then the lack of proper meal service, unless he was willing to pull out his credit card.

Spoiler alert: he wasn't.

The worst part was all of his bellyaching had to go through me, since I'd paid for the aisle.

My big mistake was politely asking him to stop whining.

Numerical Perplexity

The opened book lured him with its golden glow.

He imagined himself as a student in the day. Calculations done by mind or slide rules. No electronics to verify answers. Would he have had a good friend to ask for help? Were teachers stricter?

If it was a book of literature he would have fully appreciated it. But math? None of it made sense to him. The only value of the book, he determined, was its artistic calligraphy.

“Excuse me,” someone interjected. “Are you soon finishing your observation?”

He relaunched into the present, moving onwards to the museum’s next exhibit.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs