100 word short stories
A story does not have to be long, be concise, enjoy the process
Duvet Daze
I wake. I sense the cold sneeking in through the open window. The duvet, my protector, leave my feet exposed. The icy chill makes its move. I recoil. I'm curled up in the foetal position. Retracting to my duvet womb.
I open my eyes. The sun is low, streaming through the glass, making a symmetrical pattern on the duvet. The warmth of its rays do battle with the icy cold. I watch not favouring either side. Each has its purpose. I have my purpose too. I will show the world my worth.
If only I could get out of bed.
Saying goodbye
"It's time to die." His voice sounded cold. Matter of fact.
She looked up not knowing what to say. Could she say anything?
She felt helpless. Her resistance gone. She would have to succumb to the reality of her fate.
She had trusted this man for so many years especially in her darkest hours. Now he was about to kill her. Why?
Life had been wonderful but this was a sad conclusion.
She saw him raise his hand and the needle plunged in deep.
As she stared up at the vet for one last time she wondered, what is cancer?
Rebuild
"What a project. Damp in the kitchen and needs rewiring but the structure is sound for something so old. Ideally I'd knock it down and start again."
This is the third couple who have visited in the last month. I'm being sold to the highest bidder. Don't I get a say?
I have stood on this hill, empty, for the last fifty years.
I have been lonely, unloved, decaying.
I can't help being four hundred years old but I am a listed building. I deserve respect.
I may be an inanimate object but I need love.
We all need love.
Confronted, conflicted
She stopped. Turned around. There he was right behind her.
He stopped. Suddenly puzzled. His victims usually ran but not today.
She felt her fear but in turning she felt courage as well. Courage to face the monster. Make him think.
He was certainly thinking. He was born to this wasn't he? He was born a killer in his mind. However, three month old babies don't have a desire to kill.He shook his head. Focus.
She was a cat, he was a dog. Attack.
She leapt, scratched his face, walked away.
Maybe he should rethink his role in society.
​
Same Car
That's the same car I overtook five minutes ago! Now he’s in front of me."
"OK," she said wearily, "Il'll keep an eye out."
"No," he screamed. "Over there. Same car, same driver, same number plate. Two identical cars."
The alarm went off in the human programming control room. Something serious had gone wrong.
He rapidly typed on his keyboard. They did not see the truck which wrote off their car and took away their lives.
"That was a bit harsh," operative 343 said to 213.
"Are you going to say anything?"
"No."
Then my work here is done.
​
A cup of tea please
She lay there, hardly breathing.
I had sat beside her for two hours, talking on and off. For someone who loved to talk this was heart breaking to endure.
I got up. My legs needed a stretch. I needed a drink.
“Can you make me a cup of tea Charlie?”
I turned. Stunned. She had not been lucid for weeks now a request for tea. My heart soared. Maybe, just maybe recovery.
“Biscuit?” I ventured.
“No, just tea.”
I filled the kettle, then there was a sharp intake of breath. I turned and cried. She had departed this mortal coil.
I just hate you
“Hey, baldie.”
How original. “Yes”
“Are you a neo-Nazi?”
“What because I’m bald.”
“No, because you shave your head.”
“If I had moustache would that make me gay?”
“Oh, smart arse hey.”
“I don’t think so. Now if you don’t mind …”
He sensed the accent. “Oh posh neo-Nazi or are you just a right wing toff?”
“No I’m a Liberal Democrat. I’m also male, white and straight so no more isms for you to attack. I think your work is done here.”
He raised his hand. I instinctively put mine up to stop him.
“Left handed, you’re the worst.”
​
Llama disgrace
“Oye, what are you doing on my fence.”
“I wanted a better view of your Llama’s. Are you the Llama farmer?”
“Very original.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry I did not intend to make a drama out of a llama.”
“Seriously?”
“I would never alama llama.”
“You are pushing your luck.”
“Really, I was wondering as its still early could I see a llama in pyjamas.”
“Just F off you prat.”
“You need to be a calmer llama farmer I think.”
With that he bent down, picked up some Llama poo and threw it at me.
Maybe it was too much.
A horse?
“Janet.”
Mum looked round. Her face crumpled at the sight of Gina. Gina only attracted attention when there was a pronouncement to make. This occasion was no different.
“Janet, I have wonderful news, my daughter is getting married.”
“Oh, really Gina how fascinating.”
Gina missed the sarcasm and blithely carried on.
“I am so excited, the wedding will be in the grounds of the Le Manoir aux Quat’saisons followed by a five course banquet.”
“So who is she marrying?” mum asked more out of pity than interest.
“Oh, a Derby winner.”
Mum could not resist. “You’re daughters marrying a horse?”