Perhaps

Derek's wedding day had arrived. As a child of divorce he desperately wanted to know that what he shared with Mandy was true love. So on the morning of his nuptials, he visited Solanaca, the neighborhood witch.

Solanaca was known for her ability to read the future and cast hexes. For 100 dollars, she offered a potion that would compel the imbiber to answer one question truthfully.

Derek gladly paid the cash. Superstition prevented him from seeing Mandy before the ceremony, so he waited until the reception to slip the potion into her champagne.

"Do you truly love me?"

"Perhaps."

Token Of Christmas Cheer

A man shuffled down a city block, ringing doorbells. His spirit motivated by optimism.

With mounting rejections, hopelessness soon took over. He had an inkling of what they were thinking: another solicitor, begging on behalf of a charity. He would prove otherwise if given a chance.

Last house. He paused. Should he ring? A smiling child waved through the picture window. The front door opened. A woman appeared.

“Sorry, I have little cash,” she said, noting his disheveled appearance.

He left with a bag of festive cookies gifted by her; a token of appreciation for his shoveling of her walkways.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

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

Tony

Tony sat on his Camaro at the corner of 14th and Lexington every weekend night, hollering at girls across the street. Some would ignore him but others flirted back. Occasionally, they'd drink Miller Lites in the backseat and heckle people coming out of the Vietnamese store.

After a few weeks, the girls started asking why he always picked the same corner. "Let's visit the City," suggested Jessica Rizzo. When Tony refused, she left for the bar with her girlfriends.

In reality, the Camaro had crapped out the day after he bought it and Tony didn't have the cash for repairs.

The Holiday Season

It’s my favorite time of year, holiday season on the coast. The weather is nice, the days are long, and everyone is happy. The tourists are everywhere. Children, grandchildren, dogs; they’re all waiting in lines at the jewelry shops, the coffee shops, and the gift shops. Especially standing in lines at the ice cream shop where I work every day. Flashing their cash around once and a while, but mostly credit cards. So carefree and careless. And so clueless. They’re all ripe for the picking. Skimming credit card information is how I can live comfortably the rest of the year.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

Missing

He felt he’d been travelling. Couldn’t be sure. His memory was as misty as the panorama. It looked like Kiev: all those domed churches. How would I know that? The question hung there, unspoken. The answer ignored it.

He looked down at shapely legs and high-heels. What the–

The world spun. Elise was a woman: always had been. The last thing she remembered was the headache at Lloyds. Oh God...work. Did I walk out?

She reached into her handbag. Passport, cash, credit cards...no tickets.

She determined to make a doctor’s appointment the minute she got home.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Bankruptcy

The company declared bankruptcy this morning. Everyone is in shock. No-one saw it coming.

Overnight the company’s liquid assets vanished. No-one seems to know why or how.

In a numb state, I work as quickly as possible preparing the forms and statements the incoming Liquidator will require. My heart is not in it.

The Directors need to sign the documents. I enter the Boardroom freely, the door isn’t locked.

The five directors are standing around the boardroom table. Each has a suitcase open on a chair beside him. The table creaks under the weight of the cash piled on it.From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry O'Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's stories have appeared in Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

The Cash Cow

The Hendersons called her the cash cow. She ate grass and shit out money. Real American green. Tens, twenties, hundreds all came out in equal proportions, with unique serial numbers and the proper security features of United States currency. The cow became something of an attraction and people looked upon her as a miracle cow, of which many neighbors were forced to admit they were covetous.

No one understood how it worked but money being the root of all evil, the Hendersons didn't pause to consider the mechanics. They immediately slaughtered the cow and ground her up for chicken feed.