My Collection of 100-Word Stories
This is a collection of my 100-Word Stories or Micro Fictions. I am sharing these again so that I could add audio to these. Now, everyone, even the sight-impaired, can enjoy them.
We Have Decided Not to Have Children
So, we have decided we do not want children. This world is filled with hate. Climate change is killing our planet. How can we survive?
Even if there is a “Battlestar Galactica” type flotilla to take us to a distant planet, what if they say only two can go? Could we make the sacrifice? It is such a difficult choice. I love my wife. I love living. Maybe I wouldn’t there, who knows. Could I condemn her and I to die here to send our children?
So, we decided not to have children. We will tell them tonight during dinner.
Going Feverishly Up and Down
I could feel her ample breast against my naked and tingling forearm as we rose higher and higher. I wondered what she was thinking as I gazed into her eyes. She coyly looked up at me with her deep dark eyes and licked her lips as if in answer to my unasked question.
We had never met, nor had we ever spoke. I wondered if she would get off with me. Would we meet again? Would we take this ride together again? These were all just unasked questions left unanswered as the elevator doors slid opened and she walked away.
Was I Too Old?
As I came out of Informatics International College here in the Philippines, a lady asked me if I was a student here. I looked down at my school uniform, chuckled a little, and then answered, “This would not be my choice of attire to wear if I weren’t.”
“How old are you,” she asked.
“Fifty-three years old, ma’am,” was my reply.
She said, “Aren’t you a little old to be going to college? How old will you be when you graduate?”
I said, “The same age I’d be if I didn’t.”
I dropped the mic and went for a beer.
I Should Know Better than to Run Up the Stairs
After folding my clothes slowly, I put them on the dresser. I was covered in sweat as I tried to slide her panties to the side. My heart was pounding in my chest, as I considered the delicate undertaking before me. It was my first time doing this, after all. Would it fit? Could I complete the task without making a mess?
She was so hot; I always wanted to get in her drawers. But now that laundry day was almost over, I was still trying to figure out how to get these socks in the drawer with her panties.
Childhood Innocence Lost
My first memories of loss as a child were coming home on the bus to fire trucks hosing down our house. I was kind of in shock, wondering if my mom was OK.
Once I saw her standing by a fire truck, I remembered my stuffed bunny rabbit, Bunny, and wondered if anyone rescued her.
When we got off the bus, we wandered over to where our mother stood, and I asked her if she had seen Bunny. “I’m sure she is OK, she would have bunny-hopped out the back door,” she said with a wink from a teary eye.
Jeopardy Fun with Words in Exactly 100-Words
OK, Alex, I’ll take Fun with Words for 100.
Remember to phrase it in the form of a question, and in this category, you must spell it as well because the words sound alike and are commonly confused.
Coming from Latin, complēmentum, it completes, enhances, or makes something perfect.
What is a complement? C-O-M-P-L-E-M-E-N-T
OK, the same category for 200.
This noun or verb comes from the Spanish word, cumplimiento; it expresses praise or admiration.
What is a compliment? C-OM-P-L-I-M-E-N-T.
That’s correct for another 200 points.
Just remember, if it C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E-S something, it complements. If it expresses praise, it compliments.
Ruminating about Writing
Although many writers say, “It’s not about the money.” I never write anything for free. Why should I? Would you ask a skilled tile layer to tile your bathroom to prove they are good enough? I don’t think so!
You might, however, ask for pictures or references. That’s why most writers maintain a portfolio. My Contently portfolio has most of the articles I have published under my bio and some of which I ghostwrote for other bloggers. But you must always ask their permission; they bought the artistic rights to that work when they paid you. It is theirs now.
You’re Not a Real Writer then, Are You?
A friend of mine asked, “Why don’t you get a real job?”
I said, “I’m a freelance writer. I write SEO-enriched content for websites, blogs, and articles.”
He said, “I don’t get it, you did Information Technology in the Army. How many books have you published?”
When I said none, he replied, “Then you’re not a real writer, are you?” To which I replied, “I brought home $92,000 last year with my nonexistent skills. How about your real job?”
He didn’t say anything else, but he couldn’t seem to get his chin off his chest or get out quick enough.
Thanks for reading and watch for more Microfictions and SportShorts100WordsOnly:
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Stephen Dalton is a retired US Army First Sergeant with a degree in journalism from the University of Maryland and a Certified US English Chicago Manual of Style Editor. He is a freelance journalist currently living in the Philippines.