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.
Curious Cath
She needed to know so badly, but was afraid to ask. Imagine he didn't know either or – worse – had forgotten.
No, she wouldn't bother the renowned academic (and her life partner) with it. It would only distract him from his life's work: the analysis of 100-word stories.
For days on end he researched various pieces, decomposing the sentences and studying the words.
A few times he attempted himself, but he never got further than 96.
His admiration for the 100-word virtuosos was endless.
However, her curiosity got the upper hand.
"Honey, I've waited a long time to ask you, but…"
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.
Exit Stage Left
A young lady reminded me of the theatre, a single spotlight illuminating an actor on stage; blackness all around except for her brightly lit face and dust particles dancing about, defying gravity as they floated in all directions.
I also thought about a woman, a wife and mother, watching television, a solitary figure in a dark room. Her life’s work was behind her, trying to distract herself from reality by watching mindless entertainment and wondering what people had to do with themselves when they weren’t doing anything else.
Now, I'm nothing more than that dust particle floating my days away.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
The World Is Nothing But Chaos And Entropy
Brian stared at the devastation. Where once stood his immaculately kept garage, packed with 45-years worth of careful philatelic curation, was a skeletal frame and mound of black cinders. His eye would be diverted by what momentarily struck him as an envelope floating on the breeze, but turned out was nothing but ash.
His wife attempted consoling him. Imagine the insurance payout! But his devotion had never been about money. Only now, staring at the remains of his life's work, did he truly understand his need for the comfort of a well-aligned stamp in a world of chaos and entropy.
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