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.
Stop doomscrolling and start fiction browsing.
A Poverty Of Love
The guests looked on with complete bewilderment as my future parents exchanged what sounded like ironic wedding vows. Afterwards at the reception, a farmer sang about his favorite crop and then it was the best man’s turn to speak. He had barely begun when my father interjected, “Spare us your life philosophy.” The wailing that arose might have been especially invented for the end of the world. Everything was burning. People, drapes, carpets, tablecloths – everything. In years to come, my brothers and I would pick through the blackened ruins. Haven’t you ever noticed that only the poor have dirty hands?
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie's latest full-length poetry collection, Gun Metal Sky, is due in early 2021 from Thirty West Publishing
Let's Stay Focused On The Good News
HUBRIS CONTEST:
Gerald raced home, test in hand, too excited to look both ways as he crossed intersections. There was never any traffic anyway, and this news was too good to wait. He only paused at one point to pick up the books that had scattered on the sidewalk behind him because he'd forgotten to zip closed his backpack.
He sprinted up his driveway and burst through the front door.
"I am the GOAT!!!" He threw the paper towards his mother, who looked up in bewilderment.
"A B+ on your English exam. I'm proud of you. Now what about your math quiz?"
From Guest Contributor Breanne Nyhoff
Caramel Sauce
“Sweet,” Dad said, licking his lips.
“Different,” Mom added.
We were seated in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner. Mysixteen-year-old brother wanted to showcase the skills he had masteredin a culinary arts course.
“Wait!” he exclaimed.
The rest of us watched him taste the meal before him. An expression ofbewilderment spread across his face. He ran back to the kitchen andreturned.
“I emptied out the wrong pot,” he conceded. ‘The caramel sauce wasmeant for apple cake.”
“So what is left for the cake now?” Dad asked while Mom and Irefrained from laughing.
“Turkey gravy.”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
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