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.
Waiting Game
“I hate this waiting,” grumbled Rob.
In childhood years he waited countless hours for his mother’s homemade cookies. He sprung leaks in pj’s waiting for a sister to leave their one and only bathroom. College dates made him wait outside their apartments. He didn’t know why but when they emerged they looked gorgeous.
Now this. Physical distancing to get necessities. Because of a virus.
Rob’s phone rang.
“I’m still waiting in a lineup for the pharmacy,” said his wife. “At least a dozen shoppers before me.”
Rob stepped inside the grocery store smiling, relegating another ‘wait’ time to the past.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, stuffed animals and many friends.
The Stuttering Fool
"She sells sea shells by the seashore."
I practiced 'til my eighteenth birthday. My last day of stuttering.
"I will ask Betty Montgomery on a date," I told myself.
When I walked onto the beach behind her sea shell stand, I heard her say to her friend, Jill: "He's such a stuttering fool." She was talking about me. I couldn't ask her but I stayed stutter free.
I bumped into her at the grocery store yesterday.
"Damn, you look good!" Time had been good to her too but I couldn't tell her.
"Who was that, Pa-Pa?" My grandson asked.
"Nobody."
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
The Passing Of A Friend
Migrant storekeeper Piero Altobelli met word of his old friend’s recent passing with great consternation. Upon hearing, he leapt from his desk in the backroom of his little grocery and flew into a rage. He swatted the week’s receipts into the floor, ripped the telephone from the wall, and yanked the office door from its hinges. All the while bemoaning at the top of his lungs. So uncontrollable was he, not even his wife Maria, could calm him.
“Somebody better tell that summabitch next time he pass a by my store,” cried Piero. “He better pay me what he owes.”
From Guest Contributor Russ Sparks
Russ is currently an MFA student attending Lindenwood University.
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