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.
The Tempest
The trees about Raoul start to strain on their top masts and branches. Fog flees, a great wind comes, a storm too.
Raoul continues his walk, waiting, patient. Ever aware of the menace about him. The sky about him blackens. Cold winds herald the approaching storm before him, devouring and chasing back the once settled fog bank.
Mountains now appear in the distance. He eyes the storm dancing down their peaks, dragging the the veil of night with them and...the frozen tempest coming.
Over the drone of the wind, Raoul distinctly hears the Watcher in the Woods growl, 'Raoul!'
From Guest Contributor Brett Dyer
Autumn’s Menace
A plainclothes policeman, using a pair of handcuffs as brass knuckles, cut the face of a boy who was wandering the city in a hospital gown. The sirens got louder. Windows rattled and the pictures on the walls shook. Sometimes I think it's not true that teaching a child to not step on a caterpillar will make you a better person. Sometimes I think the plainclothesman is going to walk through the door, so I just keep waiting. The city streets are deserted – no St. Patrick’s Day parade, no people. In these slow days of unease, everyone is a biohazard.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie's latest poetry collections are The Death Row Shuffle (Finishing Line Press, 2020) and The Trouble with Being Born (Ethel Micro-Press, 2020).
Crimes And Misdemeanors
Nature Submission:
Mike claimed to feel bad about the slugs, but what options did he have? If they insisted on eating his spinach plants, it was only right that he eradicate the menace. The more humane methods hadn't worked, so beer traps it was.
Well, maybe methods is an exaggeration. He really just tried one option, sprinkling egg shells around the roots. And he'd probably been a little careless about setting a perimeter, making it easy for the slugs to avoid them on their path to leafy sustenance.
But any accusations that Mike enjoyed torturing the slugs is insulting and completely unfounded.
From Guest Contributor Ally Petersen
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