Falling

Dominicus Tyrannus watched the city crumble from his tower. For years, advisors and barely-trusted confidantes had warned such an outcome was inevitable. There were always warnings and doomsayers looking at him as if somehow he was the one who had failed them, not the other way around.

They were dead now, publicly executed by being tossed from this very tower, their deaths meant to placate the masses. Perhaps it had just whetted their appetites for more blood. Either way, with the empire falling after more than a thousand years of uninterrupted reign, Dominicus regretted not killing them all much earlier.

One Step

On the borders of this serene land lay a dark shadow formed from a massive structure built on the ruins of another once-great civilization. It often feels like an ominous storm cloud in an otherwise starry sky.

The people of this land continue to work on the tower in the hope of one day reaching the heavens. To be reunited with their ancestors dancing within constellations.

On this glorious night, as the sun sets, dark clouds dissipate; the moon rises on the horizon, filling the entire night sky with dangerous possibilities as they come one step closer to the stars.From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Perception

The night sky was the underside of a felt baldachino; the tower an ornate column; and the church main an altar for some expected giant: bold and bright against the diffuse starlight.

She wasn’t sure about the floodlights now.

“You going in or what?” Frieda tended towards the curt. “I’m happy either way.”

“Um–”

“Night wedding because he looks better in the dark?”

“Mum!”

“That laneway he knocked you up in must have been pitch.”

“MUM!”

“Twice your bloody age.”

The eighteen-year-old eased out of the limo’s back seat, wondering if the weight she felt was really just the baby.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

228 Days To Mars

The Delta 2 rocket clears the tower. All eyes are on the big screen. Lift off is a success.

Spontaneous cheering breaks out.

In 228 days our unmanned vehicle will be on Mars. If all goes well, our next launch will be the much anticipated manned mission. We can feel the excitement already.

I notice Eddy is subdued. He is not joining in the celebrations erupting around him.

“Eddy my man, why the long face?”

“Uhm, just been thinking.”

“Oh yeah, thinking about what?”

“Just remembering something… something important, I forgot I would adjust, recalibrate, in time for this launch.”From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry is an actor who sometimes writes, living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry recently had a short story awarded runner up in the Arts Alliance biannual short story writing competition. Barry's stories may be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 101 Words and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

The Flower

From the observation tower Alice could finally see the true scale of The Flower of Vermaltarok III. A reptiloid rudely pushed in front of her to set up some trinoculars.

The local guide wiped sweat from her brow. "Attention! Should the alarm sound, immediately use the lift down to the bunker and remain there until the all-clear is given."

Alice found another viewing spot, mesmerized by the colors, ... the SIZE.

Lights flashed, and the doors to the lift opened. But the siren was drowned out by the thunderous buzzing that echoed across the valley and shook the floor and walls.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement

Worker

The sparse landscape spread in every direction. There were mountains to be sure, a flat white one to this left and a glass tower to the right, but there was no food within actual reach.

Jim crawled forward, then back, then to the left and right. An observer might think his path random, but Jim's instinct told him that the best way to find food was this haphazard approach.

He panicked when the giant approached. Only its torso was visible above the horizon, but Jim went hurdling in the other direction.

He wished he'd never left the hill this morning.

Arthur

On the thirty-fourth floor of the Alan Alanwich Tower, Arthur sat between cabinets of yellowing paperwork. Had he been near a window, he still would not have noticed as the Tower crested the troposphere.

While the calculus of rocket trajectories was not terribly different from the calculus of financial modeling, the transition resulted in a couple of irregularities, putting Arthur behind schedule. Arthur always felt nauseous when he fell behind schedule.

As stage two of the tower detached, dropping the accounting department and mail-room back towards Earth, Arthur sighed. He would miss the company picnics. He had always enjoyed those.

Bankrupt This

Against the flat gray sky of the Financial District, the skyline begins to stir. Clouds of soot bellow down the narrow cross-streets and grand avenues, away from the Alan Alanwich Tower, which teeters, lurches, and completely parts company with the ground. Triumphant as Jupiter, the ten thousand ton fledgling of cement and steel lifts itself above the be-spired brotherhood of sober banks, ascending towards the heavens.

On the penthouse viewing deck, Alan Alanwich raises his fists. As all eighty-seven floors of his company rocket away from insolvency, one thought reverberates through his mind - "This will teach those fucking Democrats!"