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.
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Bricks
Being a responsible sort, Pig Number Three set about building a house entirely out of bricks. This was before you could go online and order bricks delivered to your door. Besides, Pig Number Three had neither a door nor an address, so he was forced to make his bricks from scratch.
The process involved mixing clay, water, sand, and straw, then shaping the material into rectangles, drying them, and baking them at high temperatures in a kiln.
Pigs Number One and Two laughed at his labors. Everyone knew the wolves in the area had been hunted into extinction years before.
As Fast As You Can
Grampa used to warn that if we weren't fast coming home, wolves would eat us. I knew he must be joking, yet I still hurried to beat nightfall just in case.
Now that I'm a father myself, I understand he wasn't joking. I mean, there weren't literal wolves. We lived in the suburbs. But he knew the dangers that only come at night, the dangers of the heart. When you truly love someone, would sacrifice your own life to save theirs, you want them to hurry as fast as they can because you won't have peace until they're safely home.
River Of Memories
Fishel sent his wife and two boys away even though Adella insisted they stay until his fever broke. He wouldn’t hear of it. The “Wolves” could arrive at any moment, and he didn’t want to risk his family.
Fishel’s temperature raged, and he became delirious, his wife a constant vision. Too weak to travel, he went to bed, fell into a deep slumber, and dreamt of his family.
Stomping and yelling awakened him from his pleasant dream.
Four Nazi’s burst through the door, guns pointed at Fishel’s face.
“Get up Jew.”
He obeyed and left a river of memories behind.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
The Tragedy Of The Greens
The green spaces in the village of Turnstell once served the needs of the entire community. Mr. Damhorst grazed his flock of sheep in the fields. Mrs. Graham was able to keep her honeycombs next to the woods. The Goldsmith twins collected berries for their homemade jam.
That was a long time ago. The Greens are no longer green. That's because the sheep attracted wolves, and the berries attracted bears, and the honey, well they brought the bees. Plus a developer chopped down the woods and built a row of high-end condominiums.
But mostly, people just really hated those bees.
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