Wake Me

You know that FOMO feeling when you realize your friends have been hanging out without you? Every insecurity threatens to overwhelm as you fear never being invited out again and wonder what horrible things were said about you in your absence?

That's how I feel every time I fall asleep. While I'm dreaming about tests unstudied for or mundane conversations with long-forgotten acquaintances, what amazing adventures might be happening in the waking world? It's enough to make one an insomniac.

Of course, every time I awaken from a particularly delicious dream I must worry about what fantasies I've left behind.

The Missed Date

I first saw you in the waiting room. I had an appointment with the oncologist. I was waiting. You waited too, month after month, for the trial results. You often came alone. You often sat alone in a corner, fiddling with the ring finger. The absence of a ring created a note of discord. It took me six months to gather courage to ask your name, your hobbies, your favourite colour, flower, song, season. For a date finally. You said yes. I wore blue and ordered one hundred and one tulips for the day. The day I attended your funeral.

From Guest Contributor Marzia Rahman

Marzia is a Bangladeshi fiction writer and translator. Her writings have appeared in several print and online journals. Her novella-in-flash If Dreams had wings and Houses were built on clouds was longlisted in the Bath Novella in Flash Award Competition in 2022. She is currently working on a novella.

The Celebration

Where was he?

Anxious guests chattered in anticipation of what would happen next. The priest glanced at the row of individuals immediately before him. Then, at his watch.

Time passed on. The front door opened. A man rushed in.

No one turned to greet him. No talking caught his ears.

Who would’ve believed his story of being caught up in traffic when he was golfing with friends and lost track of time?

He fumbled in his dress jacket pocket, finding the wedding ring lodged in its creases.

Despite his absence as ‘best man’, he hoped his brother’s wedding went well.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada.

Welcome Back, Class Of '96

“Do you want me to hold the...?”

The song is about to start, something by Vanessa Williams. His one good hand is pressing on her waist. She does not know what to call the other one, the absence.

He shakes. “I can just put my arm here.” He rests his folded sleeve on her pink shoulder strap. They have been given a wide berth by the other couples on the gym floor.

They shuffle together in silence. Finally, she asks. “How did—?”

He shrugs. “Cleaning the picker.” Somebody had turned it on by mistake.

“Does it hurt?”

Sometimes. It tickles.

From Guest Contributor Brennan Thomas

The Left Eye Is Enough

Because you can see. It is other people who have the problem--flies cannot understand singular vision; pros and cons blink in unison. Suits and snoots on the train and even the grubs on the street shoot sideways sneers and whispers, feary scowls and snickers. The nothingness bothers them, the absence of the right, smooth as burned-off fingerprints. They are not convinced by your best prosthetic and toss you pity, a reward for your emulation of their normalcy. Dark glasses and patches insult the blind and pirates. Your final answer is the biggest lie by the bluntest knife: a wound.From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

Brook holds a BA from Vassar College and an MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University. She teaches college writing and is the co-owner and chief editor of BluePlanetJournal.com. Her nonfiction, poetry, and flash fiction have appeared in Creations Magazine, Little India, Outpost, Nowhere Poetry, and The Syzygy Poetry Journal.

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.