Dead Meat

The carcass on the shoulder buzzed with flies and other insects feeding on the rotting flesh. The process of decay started the moment the vehicle, probably an SUV or pickup truck by the amount of damage, rammed into it.

Larger critters had already been by, but there was enough intermittent traffic during the day that the real feast would wait until dark.

In a way, we're always rotting, from the moment we're born. It's thanks to the magic of cellular technology we're able to keep regenerating through the decades, sloughing off the dead skin and useless morality as we go.

Note To Self

I recognized the helmet on the unearthed body as the same customized gear hidden in my private lab. The ancient, scarred face underneath it, not so much. The damage was far too extensive. Even so, I knew.

Words scratched into the metal plate the body clutched remained legible: “Do not activate.” It didn’t specify what, but I knew that, too.

If I press that button in my lab a portal will open to the past. I had decided against the risk.

But now I must do it. I need to find out what could cause me to write that warning.

From Guest Contributor Sean MacKendrick

There's Something The Matter With The Sea

We all got off the coach and headed for the beach. The couple who'd sat across from us stripped to reveal their swimsuits, like a superhero duo. I told Dad on the sand, but he seemed distracted, staring into the horizon.

'I think there's something the matter with the sea,' he said.

Mum told him to cut it out. He nodded, patted me on the shoulder and turned back towards her.

The water was warm, like a bath. That was our second clue. 'Don't worry,' the news anchor had said at breakfast. 'Hurricane Katrina isn't expected to cause much damage.'

From Guest Contributor Robert Keal

Winner

I enjoy winning. I am competitive by nature.

The trouble starts when winning becomes the focus.

To be honest, for me the trouble starts when winning becomes everything. Winning for the sake of winning, I describe as the ultimate step.

Especially when I am in a room full of other people who are winners, or think they are winners.

Damage happens. I know the masochistic irony of what it is like to win, and lose, simultaneously. In private, as I tally the losses, my self-loathing grows.

Yes, in my case it is a sickness. My doctor has diagnosed ‘Auction Fever.’

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's other stories may be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 50 Word Stories, 101 Words, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.