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.
Apologia Pro Vita Sua
A college-age girl collecting money – no doubt for a worthy cause – rings the doorbell, sending our little white dog into a barking frenzy. Sorry, I tell her after kicking aside the dog to get to the door, but we gave last week. She doesn’t believe me. I can read it in the sudden hardening of her face. If anything, she’s probably thinking it’s necessary sometimes to kill what is in order to bring about what is not. I start to shut the door and then stop and glance up the street. The falling leaves die saying, I want to go.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie Good's latest poetry book is The Horse Were Beautiful (2022), available from Grey Book Press. Redhawk Publications is publishing his collection, Swimming in Oblivion: New and Selected Poems, later this year.
The President Who Never Lied
“If you’re innocent, why are you taking the Fifth Amendment?” asked the President who never lied to whip his followers into a frenzy. His true believers cheered.
“The mob takes the Fifth,” said the President who never lied. His true believers hooped and hollered.
“The Fifth. Horrible! Horrible!” insisted the President who never lied. His true believers waved flags of his graven image.
Then when he was deposed.
“Why did you overvalue your assets to secure loans and undervalue your assets to evade taxes?” he was asked for hours by New York state attorneys.
He took the Fifth 440 times.
From Guest Contributor Todd Matson
Don't Fear The Reaper
Jack wanders into the local for a pint at the end of his evening walk.
“Damn!”
He’d forgotten it was that time of the year.
There’s fat Marge dressed as a witch, and in walks Brad, the estate agent, now a skeleton.
Jack orders lemonade and watches the party grow louder. The pub band, three ghosts and a ghoul, rock them into a frenzy.
Unable to bear the drunken hysteria anymore, he walks out, sober, into the chill of the night.
He glances back through the pub window at the carnival of fools, none of whom will escape the Reaper.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
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