one hundred word story #6

"You give me homework," he said, "and I give you homework. And that's how we do school." She dreamed big and assigned him the moon. "Too far, silly," he said. Fine, then: she assigned him the coral reef. "Too deep." All right, she said. Catch a Bengal tiger. “Too dangerous. Here, let me show you.” He gave her a notebook and a pencil and a seat under a willow tree. “Write what you want to learn,” he said. She mapped the night sky with imaginary constellations. “Write something real,” he growled. “Something real,” she wrote. He disappeared. She continued writing.

one hundred word story #5

Sam fed his reptiles on a rotating schedule. Every week, he bought bags of frozen mice from Savannah, the cute manager at the pet store. Norman, the ball python, ate on Fridays, and Hans, the tegu lizard, ate on Tuesdays, unless he was hibernating. Sam wanted desperately to ask Savannah out. Instead, he brought Norman and Hans into the shop. Savannah was feeding the gerbils and didn’t see them come in. It was Friday. Norman leaped. Savannah dodged. The gerbil disappeared. Sam never did get the courage. Norman, however, was happy. That winter, Sam hibernated; hoping to shed his skin.

one hundred word story #4

The last time Esther saw Frank was high school graduation. He had a ponytail and wore overzealous earrings. She was neither attractive nor ugly. One had a crush on the other and was quietly rejected. Twelve years later, she runs into him at the Post Office. He's wearing combat boots, camouflage from ankle to chin. She’s in a smart business suit. He doesn’t recognize her, cuts her place in line. “Frank?” She leans on her hip; a trick. He looks. Looks again. “Wow,” he says. “Hello, …?” “Hello indeed,” she murmurs, soaks that gaze in. Frank leaves without his package.

one hundred word story #3

Once upon a time there lived a critter named Pegasus who lived in Angelica's attic. Pegasus was actually a roof rat who tended to sneak through the tiles of Angelica's roof late at night and practice flying through the crawlspace between floors. Pegasus thought he had wings. Angelica went months believing she had a poltergeist in the house. She banged doors and lit candles, held a séance and tried to rid the house of spirits. Her energies only succeeded in further encouraging Pegasus, who flew through an open window and off the roof. Angelica was right: Poltergeists don’t like Ouija.

one hundred word story #2

Girl and Boy are driving home from somewhere sunny. The year is still new, their eyes tired. Girl at the wheel. The highway ascends steeply, trucks forging through the mountains like charging steer. The sun evaporates behind the horizon. And then the car is swirling through a tumbling mist of snow. Not flakes, not clumps, but tiny little ice crystals zoom in and around the hood, create little eddies on the road. The temperature gauge reads 31 degrees. Boy digs around under his seat, unearths a scarf and wraps it lovingly around her neck. The temperature in the car rises.