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.
Reality Shift
Seventeen doctor visits to prove my mind was sound. In yet? I assured them that Abe Lincoln was a senator in my world. And? To me, the rapture had happened. Meaning? I was missing two billion people from a couple of days before. Did they believe me? I had photos to show them. They started feeding me pills to shut me up. What did the photos show? Deagel.com showed a population of 8.5 billion and? The current reality had 6.3 billion people. They said Photoshop. I laughed. Why? To realize one is dead when breathing is not what one expects.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Clinton is a blogger, disabled, filmmaker, and poet living in La Paz, Bolivia.
The Day Before Yesterday
Meanwhile, Franz Kafka sells another piece of his dead mother’s jewelry to pay for his brothel visits. Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse go horseback riding together. Alma Mahler has just aborted their child. The police question Picasso, but he has an alibi and they release him after slapping him around. Summer is fading, and Rainer Maria Rilke feels it as a wound in his chest. Using an alias, Adolf Hitler boards a train for Munich to escape conscription in the Austro-Hungarian army. Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is missing from the Louvre. Museumgoers lay flowers in front of the bare wall.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie's latest poetry collection, THE HORSES WERE BEAUTIFUL, is forthcoming from Grey Book Press.
Her Sacred Space
Sammy was buried in the garden, behind a shed. Rose stepped daily over a trail meandering between overgrown shrubs to get there.
She told Sammy how dearly she missed him. How her life lacked happiness, excepting visits from grandchildren.
They would’ve delighted seeing him. But it was different for them. They lived elsewhere in town. Their lives filled with interests young people sought.
Only when Rose died did her grandchildren realize her loneliness. Close to the burial ground, hidden under debris, they uncovered a stash of cigarette ends.
Undoubtedly saturated with the tears she shed for her beloved Chihuahua, Sammy.From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
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