Tag Archives: 100 word story

Felt like heaven

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

I submitted my last week story yesterday and am submitting this week’s story today ! (well it’s not a story actually). Hope to read a lot more stories this week 🙂

Constructive suggestion/feedback are welcome !

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My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

It felt like heaven

 It felt like heaven when mom hugged me and said it would be okay

when I finally managed to ride the bicycle on my own

when I scored a six of the last ball to win the championship for my team

when I got down on my knees and she said yes

when I saw her face at the airport after a long voyage

when I held my little princess in my arms

when I saw my little princess take her first steps

It felt like heaven when I had loved ones by my side to share the joy and misery of life

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The Journey

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Well I am late with my entry for last week ! I couldn’t read any of the stories, will try and make amends in the coming week.

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My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright –Anelephantcant

The Journey

Mother refused to sell off the rustic bicycle. She would smile and reminiscence about the bygone.

Doggedly she had bicycled for kilometers through the village to reach school everyday. It stood as a picture of the many romantic rides with her father. She would sit on the cross bar while he would ride the bicycle, his hands protectively wrapped around her.

After his passing, Ma said it gave her the strength to carry on the journey alone. But her young daughter couldn’t understand the sentiment.

Once her mother passed away she understood the bicycle. Of the strength it gave her to carry on with the journey alone.

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Anega

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.

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My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – Randy Mazie

Anega

The old town of Anega was feared for its barbaric warrior tribe. They feared neither god nor nature. Not even death. But the old witch inside the forest struck terror in their hearts. Legend had it that the grand old chieftain of the tribe had stuck a deal with the witch.

When Aurper Jr. took over the reins he decreed that peace offerings be stopped and went personally to fetch her head.

Before the fight could start she turned him into a goat. When Aurper Jr bleated for mercy, the witch pronounced that death would be his reprieve.

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Always aim for the Moon, even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.

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My story follows the photo prompt below

Always aim for the Moon, even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars

Ever since he laid his hands on the Batman comics, he was obsessed with creating bat wings for humans.

It will revolutionize human transportation… It will be an adventure sport – ‘Come fly with the birds… ‘. He pitched his ideas.

Initial interest from Venture Capitalists’ quickly soured as the discussion turned towards design and implementation.

In desperation he decided to get down to business. He climbed to the top of Moon towers wrapped in his prototype bat wings, assessed the wind conditions and took a leap of faith. He landed next door, the casualty ward of The Star Group multi-specialty Hospital.

 

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I love you.. no matter what

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

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My story follows the photo prompt below

copyright – Indira by way of Scott Vanatter

Go to hell” she said and marched off angrily

As he fell down by the side of the road he saw a blurry image of the lorry pass by on the other side.

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 “Anita.. ” he called out feebly

Ajay, I am here. Can I have a doctor in here ?”

 “Anitaaa.. ”

 “What is it ?”

 “I love you an..nnn..d.. before the accident when I said I don’t care. I was just angry”

 “I know.” she said as she clasped his hand and had a lump in her throat

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Love is to Love unconditionally

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

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My story follows the photo prompt below

Tears gushed onto her wrinkled cheeks as she saw the mug shots of the dealers’ arrested in the neighborhood drug bust.

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“…Daddy I am gonna be a museum guard… when I grow up”

“You would look handsome in that uniform son and..”

“Don’t encourage such mediocre dreams Richard. Else he will grow up to be a nobody, just like you”

“He is our son Annie. That’s enough to love him”

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He was a good hearted, bright and cheerful boy, but a disappointment in her eyes. After his father passed away he left and never came back.

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Rusty

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

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I am happy this week for a couple of reasons. a.) I was able to take time out and write a story ! b.) I was able to come up with something on my own rather than rely on movies for some inspiration !

Also I am not so happy cause a.) The way I see it I am packed with work going ahead and am not sure how many other stories I will be able to read 😦 b.) My story is a 110 words. I brought it down from 130 to 110 and then left it as such.

I will try to make it to as many stories as possible. Also hope to hear from you guy as to how you found my story.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Rusty

Rusty the clown was the talk of his town. Jam packed audiences resounded with laughter at his shows. Newspapers ran reviews praising his vividly entertaining performances.

With the advent of television the crowds dwindled and Rusty was sidelined.

A lot of advertising couldn’t generate a big turnout for his last show. When he jumped from the high wire onto the piano everybody laughed. They realized only when a few minutes had passed by and a pool of blood appeared.

Newspapers carried the photo of Rusty’s legs protruding out of the piano. “A suicide or an act gone wrong ?”. He had again become the talk of the town.

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The Day Bumblee transformed into a Crossbred

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – EL Appleby

What got into bumble bee?”

He was watching Lion King the previous night when Witwicky was busy doing his jungle call.. if you know what I mean.. hmm.. agh… Anyway he got spooked when the paparazzi broke into Witwicky’s home. Transformed himself into a ..ah.. and tried to make a run for it”

at least the new technology works.. it looks so real.. all over the news.”

Optimus blew his radiator when he heard about it. We will sneak him out tonight.. plant a story… mad scientist crossbreeding experiment gone wrong and the animal dying”

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I am not happy with my story. It’s such a beautiful prompt courtesy El, I am saddened I couldn’t do something better with it.

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A lesson in History

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

This time I have gone way about the word limit. My apologies in advance !

Last couple of weeks haven’t been able to check many of the stories. This week I hope to do better. 🙂

Copyright – Danny Bowman

What is this grandpa?” asked Timber Pluto pointing to the picture in his Universe history book

It’s what humans call a phone. They use it to talk to each other. ”

They don’t have 3D image conferencing ?”

No, their race is in a primitive state. During the cold war era we camouflaged some our teleportation devices as payphones to send spies”

To conquer earthlings ?”

Sheesh why would we want to do that? Don’t we have enough problems of our own? We sent them to get the secret formula of this liquid they call – alcohol”

What for?”

Ahh.. emm.. I shouldn’t have told you this. It’s classified”

Grandpaaaa..aa.aa!!!”

Okayyyy.. Supposedly it can transport the consumer to another universe”

So did we get the formula?”

Nope. Those spies after tasting alcohol decided to stay back on earth and destroyed all our teleportation devices. Enough of all this, just study what’s in the school books.. that’s enough”

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To submit your entry or check other Friday Fictioneers’ stories click the blue toad below


Fence

This is an entry for the  Friday Fictioneer‘s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Open to all , ready to rack the right side of the brains!.

The objective is to write a 100 (word limit is not rigid) word story based on a photo prompt.

My story follows the photo prompt below

Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall

 Fence

 Their family migrated during the war-torn, drought times. They stood side by side, picked up plows and tilled the land hoping against hope. The winds changed, war got over, the barren land turned green and filled greed in their hearts. The brothers now stood against each other, picked up arms and erected fences to demarcate boundaries.

Seasons flew by, they prayed for rains only on their side of the fence. Their hearts filled with envy to see the lush green on the other side of the fence. Winter fetched them away. They now lay together, side by side, beneath the earth.

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As I wrote this, I remembered Rabindranath Tagore’s poem which I am sharing below

Where the mind is without fear and the head held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

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To submit your entry or check other Friday Fictioneers’ stories click the blue toad below