Paul Revere

"One if by land, two if by sea." Paul Revere finished typing the phrase--destined to be famous--into his cell phone and hit send. His job was done. It would now be up to his fellow revolutionaries to spread the word of the impending invasion and prepare for the British arrival in Concord. Whichever route they chose, the Americans would be ready.

Revere was free to relax and enjoy his fruity umbrella drink next to the pool. He reflected on how when historians wrote about his story many decades from now, they'd almost certainly get many of the incidental details wrong.

Nothing To Lose

When I flung open the door and saw my father’s body in a pool of blood, I collapsed, screamed and cried in a fit of rage and sadness. I knew I shouldn’t have left him. He said it would be safer at Aunt Ania’s, but nowhere is safe in Poland. I had no idea the Nazis could be so brutal. He was protecting his friends and now he is dead, and they are in the hands of the Nazis.

There’s only one thing I can do. I will join the resistance and make a difference.

I have nothing to lose.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

As A River Runs Cold

When the sun finally set that evening, it was as if someone was turning off a faucet. The water ran clear and cold, then stopped running altogether, leaving behind a long, jagged-edged stain on the pavement that slowly grew into a pool of blood on the street below, like a wound left open too long, growing wider.

Clouds pressed down hard against the earth while the sky darkened. The townspeople began dying in great numbers. The river never once turned red with the blood that flowed through its banks. Nothing could change the truth of who and what I'd become.From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

House Rules

"No!” the vacation condos manager barked, his stink-eye getting stinkier by the second. “You cannot borrow a screwdriver to repair your drone. Drones are strictly forbidden on the property!”

“Geez, alright,” I said. Man, there’s a harshness on the edge of town. Last time I book with Wazoo Properties.

“And by the way,” he said. “No more ukulele playing on the lanai or by the pool. It’s strictly…”

“Forbidden?”

He nodded yes.

“One more thing,” he said, pointing at the NO SMOKING sign.

“So, what you’re saying…”

“Yes. No drones, no tools, no frets...and you don’t get no cigarettes!”

From Guest Contributor Lee Hammerschmidt

Lee is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour who lives in Oregon. He is the author of the short story collection, A Hole Of My Own. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!

Siblings

“Stop it, Sis. Mom and Dad can’t even hear you and there is no one else around. It’s just you and me. You’re making a fool of yourself...again. Get real, it would do you some good. You’re a pretty lousy actress. Stop pretending you’re having a cramp because you are definitely not. I am waiting, missy. Nobody will believe you, you know. In fact, come to think of it: you slipped, I did not push you in the pool at all. Anyway, you can keep your head under water as long as you want to. See if I care.”

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé Suys (°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.

The Trenches

Joseph lived in the trenches. The others came and went, firing weapons at the enemy location before marching elsewhere. Joseph always stayed.

The soldiers ignored him, except to push him aside when he got in their way. On occasion, an officer noticed him and ordered that he be taken away, but then a bomb would explode and Joseph was left to his own devices.

Joseph had a reasonably comfortable spot. He mostly just lay in the soft mud. It no longer mattered if he was face down in the pool of water at their feet. Breathing was no longer necessary.

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.