Be Easy

Tomas nervously made his way to his seat at the very back of the lecture hall. He'd originally staked out this spot to avoid being called on during class discussion, but if it afforded him the opportunity to surreptitiously glance at his neighbors' test answers, that was just a happy accident.

He prayed this final was easy. He needed an A on the exam to ensure a passing grade. Failure meant his dreams of medical school would be over.

The first question contained the word "Gluconeogenesis."

Tomas stood and walked out of the classroom. The world needs car mechanics too.

Game

Steven was playing from behind from the start. Every time he made a play to get within striking distance, the deficit grew to the point it seemed out of reach. It didn't matter how aggressively he attacked or how ferociously he defended, the cards were always stacked against him.

If Steven had an opportunity to reflect, he might have suspected someone had rigged the outcome so there was no way of winning. However, that realization was simply too cruel to contemplate, and it hadn't crossed his mind until it was too late.

Steven never even heard his opponent call game.

Interesting Times

Brandon and April hold hands as they walk their house one last time, searching for anything important left behind. The entire move has been an impromptu affair, with little opportunity to reflect on what truly counts as essential. Certainly not their record collection or even their wedding album. It's weird to think about how much things have changed in so little time, and what used to be cherished heirlooms are now nothing more than dead weight. The less they bring with them, the better.

What's the quote? May you live in interesting times? Surely, an alien invasion counts as interesting.

Grief

They say time heals all wounds.

Sadly, I now recognize the triteness of this aphorism.

First of all, deadly wounds never get the opportunity. Particularly severe ones can be permanently debilitating. Even if you learn to live with them, you're forever impaired.

People who've lived through the most traumatic wounds might have something insightful to say about the nature of time and it's ability to heal. Learning to forget is not the same as healing. It's just a coping mechanism that allows you to deal with acute pain.

Those who have experienced true grief no longer take comfort in aphorisms.

The Madison County Gentleman's Club Is Probably A Metaphor

I was banished from the Madison County Gentleman's Club for what they termed unbecoming behavior. There was no opportunity for an appeal, no three strikes and your out. One minute I was a member in good standing, the next it was all over. At least when my ex-wife asked for a divorce, I could see the warning signs, if only in hindsight.

Good luck demanding a refund. The complaints desk is located next to the breakfast bar. Members only.

I feel like there's got to be a better way to run a club. Evicted when I was just getting comfortable.

Standish

Tyler unfolded from the blue compact. His knees hurt. He had suffered this torture for one reason: to keep Standish quiet...forever.

Ten years as a bartender at the Capital Club, the city’s most prominent private club, provided Standish with enough knowledge to end important careers, marriages, and lives. That knowledge became an opportunity. It needed to be stopped.

Tyler walked in, silenced gun in his coat pocket. Standish was behind the bar. A shot rang out. Tyler crumpled to the floor.

“Thanks, Joe,” Standish said, smiling. A man at the end of the bar nodded, finishing his bourbon.

“Anytime.”

From Guest Contributor Gary M. Zeiss

Miracles

Steve wasn't one to believe in miracles. He understood too well the depravities of the human heart. More often than not he was victim to the world's machinations. That's how fate had led him to the streets.

So when the woman offered a hot meal, he expected some sort of catch, likely in the form of a lengthy sermon. When she offered a warm bed, he called to mind images of harvested organs and sexual servitude. When she claimed through phony tears to be his mother, he fled at the first opportunity, certain it was another conspiracy plotting against him.

Ludere

He introduced himself to the elegant redhead, making the proper, respectful eye-contact interspersed with cheekily brazen glances beyond the pendulous necklace of green stones.

He listened to her queries, gave all the right answers, asking questions on cue, seizing each opportunity for sexual inference.

Waiting for her fiancé, she allowed herself to bask in the attention and enjoy the ancient game. She even allowed her secret smile to beam forth occasionally, assuring herself that her fidelity was as icily resolute as the emeralds about her flushed neck.

Shortly after an artful hand touched her thigh, only the emeralds kept table.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Yard Work

His boots sinking in the mud, Joseph pushed the mower across the lawn. Cecile admonished him for its futility, but with the water receding today, now was his opportunity. He'd always enjoyed doing yard work. There was the sense of accomplishment, but he also liked getting out of the house for a couple of hours.

The water was getting higher every year. Cecile talked about moving, but this was where the kids had grown up and they still visited every Christmas. He refused to leave.

It made him angry to think some people were blaming all this on global warming.

Infinity Pool

She and I are married but not to each other, if you get my drift.

Seizing a window of opportunity, we are spending four nights in a five-star hotel on the coast complete with infinity pool. I swim, she wades.

She says, during my swim, a young girl approached her complaining a couple of boys mischievously removed the safety floaters to use for a game in the pool. The lass asked, “Can you tell your husband to make those boys put the floaters back?”

“Why don’t you?” I ask cheekily. “Grab your phone, make the call.”

We both laugh.

From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell

Barry's stories can also be found on Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Words Stories and of course, here at A Story In 100 Words.