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.

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Ice Pond

When I stepped outside onto the cold snow-covered sidewalk, I remembered my childhood in Maine.

“Hurry, Artie!” My sister, Clara, bellowed from across the ice pond.

My friend Eric couldn’t keep up, and I quickly sped past him, my hands raised in victory. Eric sighed and skated away, having had enough.

Clara clapped and then glided toward me. Suddenly there was a crackling sound and a scream. Clara fell through the ice, hands flailing, eyes fearful. I tried to get to her, but people pulled me back and said I’d fall too. Then there was silence.

I never skated again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

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Time Tells All

The CIA flying the planes in 9/11 is awkward. To realize 6.5 trillion dollars spent to kill five hundred thousand terrorists at a cost of 8 million dollars per person is a lie? Making the question why pay for war when it's all a lie? RMS Lusitania 1982 documents revealed it carried ammunition. Remember the Maine 1976 investigation cleared Spain with the boiler being determined the cause of the explosion. Two million Vietnamese people died because of the Gulf of Tonkin event which never occurred. To realize Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction. Syria did not gas people.

From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle

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How We All Found Out

Marlee couldn't sleep, what with all that worry over her mother moving into the senior home down in Florida. So she sat on her Maine back porch, sipping hot cider in the wee October hours, watching falling stars while Bill slept. She stopped thinking about her mother when she realized that way more stars were falling tonight than other worried nights. And then she noticed many of those falling stars changing direction, hovering over the woods, and slowly descending. Then she yelled for Bill and grabbed her fancy new camera phone. The next day, of course, we all found out.

From Guest Contributor John Sheirer

John lives in Northampton, Massachusetts, with his wonderful wife Betsy and happy dog Libby. He has taught writing and communications for 26 years at Asnuntuck Community College in Enfield, Connecticut, where he also serves as editor and faculty advisor for Freshwater Literary Journal (submissions welcome). He writes a monthly column on current events for his hometown newspaper, the Daily Hampshire Gazette, and his books include memoir, fiction, poetry, essays, political satire, and photography. Find him at JohnSheirer.com.

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