Somebody Nose, A 100 Word Story

Joey the Beak had a nose that was nothing to sneeze at. Cyrano De Bergerac had nothing on Joey. Teased most of his life, Joey took it all in stride because he had a special talent.
Joey stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat. He took the lid off of the Jar that had been handed to him and inhaled.
“Chocolate… Mesquite… Chanel No. 5… And…” Joey hesitated. It was all riding on this. “And sheep sweat!”
The crowd erupted into a cheering mob. For the third year running, Joey was the champion of the National Smelling Bee.

Thanks to Elisson, whose book "Shorts in a Wad" was the inspiration for this story.

Pennacle, A 100 Word Story

Sitting on his porch in the spring air, a cigar clutched in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. The bottle and a bowl of ice stood at his feet. Eighty long years had brought him to this point. It was almost time. He could feel it in his bones. He took one last puff on the stogie and a sip from the glass and pushed himself erect. Swinging his cane and throwing ice cubes he yelled, “Get offa my lawn you damn kids!” He felt a little sad… The best part of his day was over.

Caught Short: A 100 Word Product Endorsement

I just received my very own copy of Steve “Elisson” Krodman’s book “Shorts in a Wad” One Hundred 100-Word Stories. I pulled it out of my mailbox last night around 8, and I am already a third of the way in. I love Elisson’s writing anyway, and having written a 100-word story or two, I respect the art of doing so.
I have met the man, albeit briefly, and would have thought him to be somewhat normal… His tales are anything but normal. They are extraordinary, visual, enticing and surprising. This is a must have for any cultured “reading room”.

Click the pic to obtain your very own copy.

The Touch, A 100 Word Story

Sorrow gripped him as he touched her cheek. It was over now, it was time to go and he knew it. In the darkness he pulled his cloak tighter around his boney shoulders before turning to walk away. "Such a waste," he thought to himself, "the life you could have had." It was tough always leaving them this way. One brief touch in such a short time, and then off to the next one. If only he could slow down, but there was always something driving him away... There was always somewhere to go. Sometimes it’s tough to be Death.

Not Nuts, A 100 Word Tribute

peanuts came from Mexico
so they tell me, long ago

not on the plant, but underneath

protected by its outer sheath

it matures until its tasty meat

becomes a salty wonderous treat

there are some who like them roasted

some like 'em boiled instead of toasted

doesn't matter how you eat 'em

it sure is hard to try to beat 'em

I've put a plenty in my belly

churned to butter with grape jelly

though I love these little tubers

can't get enough of eating goobers

legumes they be, no ifs or buts

closer to peas they are than nuts

Life: A 100 Word Testimony

I hated the deceased. I didn’t hate him when I killed him. I didn’t hate him when he invaded my home. I didn’t hate him for the color of his skin or the fact that he threatened my life. I learned to hate him later. I learned to hate him after I was accused of murder. I learned to hate him after he was dead.
He made me a killer. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a murderer. I am a killer, though, now and forever. He made me take a life, and doing so, destroyed mine.

Spring, A 100 Word Story

I love the spring.
The golden sun, the green buds, the new grass. It always reminds me of my first time.
I remember it clearly… We slipped off into the woods alone together, the smell of fresh flowers in her hair.
I was entranced by the way her skirt rippled around her knees like lapping waves. Her hazel eyes so big and round. Her lovely pink lips quivering and parting as she started to scream. The crimson flow of warm blood from her newly slit throat. There have been many since, but she was the best.
I love the spring.

The topic this week was Spring. Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

Surprise, A 100 Word Story

I still see it happening when I close my eyes. It’s like one of those old super 8 home movies… You know, all grainy and the colors don’t seem quite right. I even seem to hear that rattling, flipping noise of the old projectors.
I didn’t mean for it to happen that way. I just wanted to change shirts. I had dripped mustard on mine, so I swung by my house on the way back to work.
When that closet door popped open instinct took over. I’d change it if I could.
The bologna sandwiches in prison sure are lousy.

Go, Read Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

Fallen, A 100 Word Story

Darkness was always descending. His soul screamed out in abysmal loneliness. Hate, fear, loathing and despair plucked at his very being.
The war had been terrible, brutal and metamorphic. The destruction had been beyond belief on both sides. The rebellion had failed and failed miserably.
He gripped his chest and hyperventilated, trying to regain control of his sanity. Heaven was but a memory lost. Hell was a terrible constant.
He had been beautiful once. He had been the fairest among all the multitudes. Beauty, however, is only skin deep. Evil is unfathomable and eternal.
Lucifer was alone in the pit.

The subject this week is "The Pit". Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

A friend and reader sent me this pic:

Same person who busted me on the Bill Mauldin cartoon last week.

War Horse Sense, A 100 Word Story

Colonel Stratton was a cavalry officer first and foremost. He rode a gallant steed all across France in the First World War. The Army was his life, but here in Europe during the latest global conflict, he was starting to hate the changes of the last twenty five years.
Once, he had ridden his horse through thick woods, through muddy fields of bogged down artillery.
He stared at the broken broom handle that pierced the radiator of his Jeep, the engine sputtered, and he did the only thing an old horse soldier knew to do. He shot the steaming heap.

This is my entry in the weekly challenge here. The subject this week was "steaming heap"... Thanks a steaming heap Elisson. Anyway... Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

UPDATE: Busted.

Staff Of Life, A 100 Word Story

"Guardian Angel Number Three reporting... That was a close one" K-nine had almost stepped out in front of a speeding cab, but then had to stop to scratch his ankle at the curb. As he blissfully wandered down Austin's 6th Street, Angel Five made him crave a hamburger just before he bought a ptomaine tainted hotdog from a street vendor. Angel Two arranged for a huge biker to walk back into a bar before K-nine winked at said biker's girlfriend. Angels One and Four rested before their shift. It was a tough job being on this particular Staff of Life.

Kiss Me Deadly, A 100 Word Spy Story

007 struggled against his restraints until he saw the door handle turn. Into the room slipped Vod Kanockers, a Bulgarian double agent.
“I’m here to help end this” she whispered.
Bond could feel her hot breath as she loosened the ropes holding him to the chair.
She untied him and said, “I know where the remote device is, I’ll take you there, but first…”
Their lips met passionately.
Bond pulled away, “Let’s go.”
Suddenly the room blurred. “What… Why?” he implored.
“That’s for giving my sister the clap, you bastard”
10 seconds later part of London disappeared in a flash.

Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

Bad Call, A 100 Word Misadventure

Bowl game day at the bar, and all the Miller Lite girls were dressed as referees. Mark walked up to the redhead.
“If I gave you my number, would you call me for holding?”
She barely glanced in his direction, “You’re out of bounds, pal”
Mark suddenly made illegal contact.
In the blink of an eye she whirled. The blinding flash of pain told him that the kick was good.
As Mark lay gasping, he saw her whisper “personal foul” to the bouncers. They dragged him towards the door where Mark was sure there would be roughing of the passer.

I got to pick the subject for this week's contest due to my win two weeks back. This story was based on a conversation I had with a friend while in Shakespeare's bar on 6th street here in ATX about Miller Lite girls dressed like (you guessed it) referees. We made every bad pun we could think of, and I fit as many as I could into 100 words. That being said, Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE!

Pour Me, A 100 Word Christmas Story

I was a bartender once. I hated Christmas, so I always took the closing shift on December 24th. It was usually a quiet night. One year, this old man wandered in just after midnight. Dirty white beard, paunchy and run down. He ordered peppermint schnapps.
“Laid me off, little bastards” he mumbled as I poured. I tried to ignore him, but he kept on and on. “Whole thing’s automated, don’t need me anymore.”
Finally I said, “Happens to everyone eventually, old man”
His belly shook violently as he shouted, “Ho, ho, hold on there sonny! I was Santa Claus damnit!”

This is my entry for this week's weekly challenge, "A Christmas Tale", here. Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE.

Lei Brother, A 100 Word Story

Brother Jerome smiled as he walked through the abbey. It was the third Tuesday of the month. Vespers was over, reverently he genuflected before the cross and headed over to the dining hall. Once there he removed his old robe and donned a Hawaiian shirt. Grabbing a beer in a mug made from half a coconut, he helped himself to a chunk of pineapple on a stick, and made his way over to listen to Brother Silas play the ukulele. Third Tuesday was luau night, the one day a month when the brothers could dispense with all that monky business.

This week's challenge was "Monkey Business" just like last week's was "Rehab". Go, Read, Listen, Enjoy, VOTE.

C'mon people, I could win this one.

UPDATE: It looks as though I have won this one. Woo-Hoooo! Thank you to all those who Went, Read, Listened, Enjoied and VOTED!

Back Wood Love, A 100 Word Story

She’uns was da purtiest gal I eber saw. She din’t allus care fo me doh. Still… she went wid me fo a while, ‘cause I’s da onliest boy her age round here. Den da new preacher come. He had him a boy chile same age as me. We sho din’t hit it off. He whooped my ass good… an took her too. I ain’t no dum hick lak he thot tho. After what I foun' out, I got her back, an him an his preachin’ daddy had to leeb. Sometimes it ain’t what you hab fust, it’s what you re-hab.

Go, read, listen, VOTE.

If you have trouble following the dialect, read it out loud the way it looks. Really.

UPDATE: My story didn't end up on the podcast or the ballot for some reason. Maybe the midget couldn't read it. Anyway... go, read, listen, vote for sombody else. I feel so disenfranchised... (sigh)

Command Performance, A 100 Word Story

It was Captain Wook’s first command. He had risen through the ranks from trooper to officer with strategy and forethought.
As young as he was, he was surprised to have been given a battle commission and command of the first wave. He wasn’t worried though, the enemy had proven to be splintered by political factions and a populace with an overactive social conscience. They would be easy to defeat.
As he reached out with one of his tentacles and shoved another screaming human into his mastication orifice he thought to himself, “Not bad for a Cephalopod from a small moon.”

Go read, listen, enjoy, VOTE.

Shameless Self Promotion

Lawrence Simon of... Well... Lots of sites full of crap has a 100 word story contest. Each week I post a story here, and link to there. I screwed up the link this time and feel I may have disenfranchised myself and (maybe) some of the other writers there (Not eveyone will necessarily want to vote for me) So, here is the link to this week's contest. Go. Read. Listen. Enjoy. Vote.

Oh, and if someone has the capability and the desire to record and score my stories for me since I do this from work, feel free to volunteer and I will send you the scripts each week. I think The freakin' midget has it in for me. Or not. Who knows?

Deep Down, A 100 Word Story

“Speak to me damn it! I said speak up! I need a damage report!”

The lights on the con of the new experimental submarine were flickering. Communication with the other decks was nonexistent.

Commander Squallier paced bulkhead to bulkhead chewing his lower lip, glaring at the microphone he had just thrown down and kicking at the rising puddles of water.

A very clinical and far away voice, from one of the control ships on the surface came across.

Squallier answered, much calmer than before. “Mission failure… We won’t be coming back this time.”

“Repeat message Commander, You’re breaking up”

“Horbgorble…”

Once again this is an entry here. Go, read, listen, enjoy... Vote.

The Coldest Cut, A 100 Word Story

Detective Murray stared in disbelief at the murder weapon in his hands. This was, no doubt, the most bizarre homicide he had ever investigated.

The table was laden with cold cuts and appetizers for the 40th wedding anniversary of the deceased and of the killer. Even with witnesses aplenty, motive and the implement of destruction in his hands he knew this would be a tough one to prosecute.

Domestic violence was always a bad scene.

As the detective once again looked down at the huge block of Swiss cheese covered with blood, he knew his case was full of holes.

This is an entry into a little challenge here. I'll probably be doing a 100 word story every week or so now. It's kinda cool to see what different writers do with the same subject when faced with a word count restriction. Go check it out, there's some neat stuff to read and vote for your favorite... Even if it's not me.