A Story In

100 Words

Literature in Tiny Bursts.

You are invited to the wonderful world of microfiction. Whether you’re a reader, a writer, or one of our future robot overlords, welcome! A Story In 100 Words is a community of literature enthusiasts no matter the length, but we have a special predilection for narratives exactly 100 words in length.

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Afraid

He just wanted to get rid of that man so he killed him. He had always wanted to do that. He saw him dying. He smiled and laughed. He had no fear of God and he didn’t care for the aftermath. Days passed. One day, on his way home he felt someone was following him, someone who was large and dark. He walked faster. The dark figure kept chasing him. He started running but wherever he went the dark figure chased him. He hurriedly reached home and shut the door behind him. Now, he was afraid of his own shadow.

From Guest Contributor Sergio Nicolas

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Just A Dream

It was just a dream.

One night, years ago, I killed a man in a fit of rage. I immediately felt regret. What if I were caught?

Waking up was a relief.

The next night, I returned to face the aftermath of my nocturnal crime. I was arrested. I stood trial. I was sentenced to life in prison.

This was not over a single evening. It was an episodic nightmare that I returned to repeatedly. I forced myself to stay awake in order to avoid the inevitable but eventually the inevitable won out.

Was it real? It really didn't matter.

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Rebellion

The pale-eyed, reed-thin child had asked a question, timidly, adding a please.

"No, you can't," said a stern voice.

“But why?” inquired the child. Her feeble voice squeaked.

“You needn’t know why. When I said no, it means no,” replied the gruff tones of the elder.

Silence settled down as uncomfortably as the calm before an impending storm. Resentment rose like gushing steam from a kettle and condensed as tears in those little eyes, now shining with indignation.

A rebel was born.

She clenched the stone paperweight tightly in her fist.

The elder, blissfully ignorant, failed to imagine the aftermath.

From Guest Contributor Sayantika Mandal

An avid reader and an aspiring writer, Sayantika Mandal graduated with honors in English from Presidency College, Kolkata and pursued a post-graduate diploma in English Journalism. After a two-year stint as a copy editor in the national daily Hindustan Times, she left to pursue her dream of being a full-time author.

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