100-Word Story

12 Dec

Today you will be writing a 100-word story. Exactly 100 words. It can be about anything you like. It must be exactly 100 words and you must use at least 2 skills. Here are some examples:

By Thomas Vasak

Harold waited, pistol ready and pointed at the closed door. He wasn’t going to take his chances. When the door opened, whoever stepped through was going to be greeted with a bullet. The knob turned and the door creaked open. He fired, too high, over the small girl’s head.

“Daddy?” she said, calmly.

He lowered the gun, closed his eyes, and fired again. Her body hit the floor with a thud. He’d rebury her in the small grave by the woods; just like he’d done with her mother last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.


By Su White

She set out. Sun was shining. How, she wondered. It seemed wrong. House was clean. It was tidy. Done and dusted. So she thought. Socks were sorted. Rubber plants watered. Waste bins emptied. Beds were made. Floors were shiny. Blood was mopped. Broken pieces culled. Chipped dishes washed. Scrubbed hands dried. Wild hair straightened. Lips were pouted. Face made up. Lies were written. Dreams were punctured. Life had altered. Eyes stared off. No tears cried. She locked up. Phone was muted. Dog was kissed. She waved goodbye. She now remembers. How this started. Those three words… had changed her life.


By Nicolas Brooks

There’s so many things you’ll never know about the man standing there with his thumb in the air as you go driving past. You’ll never know that the flicker from his outstretched hand is the wedding ring he’s been wearing again for the last five days, since the phone call he made from a rural service station somewhere south of the border, a call that crossed two states and countless memories to reach a woman in Brisbane who’d once worn the ring’s other. You’ll never know that what he’s asking you for is not a lift, but a second chance.


“Ice Cream” By Liz Gallagher

The whole shop is pink, except where it’s white. The crowd of smoothie- drinking girls at the window table could be laughing at anything. One waves. She tells herself they’re in a good mood because it’s a sunny Saturday and everyone feels light. She orders. A single scoop chocolate cone. Avoids looking at the scooper guy, who was in her gym class last year. He has seen her in shorts. She pays. Alone at a table, bravely, she anticipates her first taste of summer. Hears one more laugh. Knows this time; they’re laughing at her. She walks, gaze on the door, to the trash can. Tosses in her unlicked cone. Feels gray.

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