The 100 Word Stories Podcast

LizzieLewieNorval Joe The next topic is Family portrait RICHARD The House Sitter “It’s just a dead plant. Look, when you asked me to house sit, I thought you just wanted me to keep an eye on the place. You should have made it clear you expected me to do other stuff too, like watering your precious plants!” “Oh, it was precious? Seriously, how much? For a silly miniature tree? You must be crazy!” “No, don’t go giving me the cold shoulder. I was good enough to step in at short notice; don’t take me to task over this.” “What do you mean, did I at least feed the cat properly?” “What cat?” LEWIE Title: Craigslist Said It Was Healthy “Take care of Jarold. He’s a bit troublesome in the mornings,” my manager said, feverishly preparing for his vacation. Jarold… was a ficus. Jarold was dead on arrival. Panic set in. I scrolled the marketplace and found an ad. We met in a questionable alley downtown. The woman rummaged through her truck, hair brushing over junk, and handed me a torpid plant. “This one matches your aura”. I couldn’t shoulder the guilt. It was eating me alive. By the time my manager returned, he paused, surprised. “Keep the plant”, he said, “Jarold seems to like you.” Jarold Jr. is thriving. LIZZIE The new dead plant in the garden of dead plants was rather cheeky, bragging about being the deadliest dead plant around. The other dead plants chuckled. A fever of hatred ensued. The deadliest dead plant…. Who cares? She’s dead. The new dead plant vowed to kill them all. The problem was that they were already dead. That’s when she came up with a plan. Fertilizer! She summoned the wind. The fertilizer flew from the ripped bag, and the dead plants, horrified, began to sprout again. “Happy to be alive? That is a kind of death, isn’t it, you silly weeds?” SERENDIPIDY He was shivering violently, sweating profusely; groaning in evidently intense pain. “The fever will pass soon” I reassured him, “and then there will be no more pain, no more anything really. You’ll just slip quietly away.” I picked up my notebook, jotting down my observations. This was my most successful experiment so far. Who would have thought that a simple, ground-up dead plant could be so viciously toxic?” I suppose you could consider my experiments somewhat unethical. Why subject people to a painful death, when lab rats would surely suffice? Simple: I’m an animal lover. And, besides, it’s fun! NORVAL JOE Billbert stared at the ring Mandi had placed on his finger and then watched as she placed one on her own. His head suddenly burned with fever and his thoughts became vague and torpid. His vision went bright white and he collapsed backward onto her bed. Billbert felt a sharp pain on his cheek and then again. He opened his eyes to see Mandi leaning over him. Her lips moved frantically but he couldn’t hear what she said. When his hearing returned, Mandi said and showed him her finger, “These are my grandparent’s rings. I think you are mine, now.” PLANET Z Ned Pearson was apprentice to Wordmaster Bunson last fall. The old man spent his time in a wheelchair and he was nearly deaf and completely blind. He would think of stories and Ned would write them down. Repeat that back to me, said Bunson. And Ned would read off what Bunson had said. Bunson would think for a moment and he would either have Ned cross out that line and replace it or he would continue with his story. Sometimes, Bunson would have Ned go back and read everything. Thank you, Ned. said Bunson. Perfectly done. Ned said you’re welcome.

After we had grass rolled out on our front yard, I would let our cats out to roll around and play and stock out there. I got an Apple AirTag on a collar in case they would run off. They roll on the grass and the sun beams. They claw the trees. They look so happy. I let them in the backyard as well and they explore. I had to put planks of wood on either side of the shed to keep them from burrowing under there. It’s time to come in. I pick them up and they complain loudly.

I live near the bay, and when I go to the beach, I see pelicans and eagles and other birds hunting for fish on the water. I like to watch them striding along the shore or flying above, ducking their head under the water and pulling out a fish or swooping down. It’s just so graceful and peaceful to watch. It’s certainly more enjoyable than when I bring some snacks to the beach and I get mobbed by seagulls. One time I brought a burger and fries and I got set up on the moment I opened the paper bag.

It hasn’t rained here in Pleasant Valley for a while. The stream that goes under the old library bridge is dry. The pond in the park, you can tell from how the bank is exposed from the receding water. The almanac said that this year would be wetter than usual, but nobody believes it. Sundays, Pastor Smith leads the congregation to pray for rain, but it doesn’t rain. And then one day the skies went dark, the winds blew hard, and we were in the middle of a hurricane. Not all at once Lord, said Pastor Smith, and he laughed.

When I walk through the park that used to be a golf course, there are a lot of houses with their backyards facing the former cart paths and fairways and greens. I’d try not to snoop, but some people put decorations out just for the benefit of people walking and cycling and playing the frisbee golf course. And then there’s a house with the 7 foot crucifix and some solar powered spotlights that light it up at night. Whether it’s a symbol of their faith and devotion or a thinly veiled threat to trespassers, I’m not willing to find out.

Jake and Molly carved their initials in the grand oak in Somerville Park. The sheriff talked to their parents. They agreed on a punishment. The magistrate waved his hand in front of Jake’s eyes, and then he waved it in front of Molly‘s. And then he left. Is that it? said Jake. The sheriff nodded and he left. Jake shrugged and said let’s go to the park, Molly. She agreed and they walked hand-in-hand. But when they got to the park entrance, they stopped both were overcome by dark fear. Trembling, they turned around and walked back home.

During my daily walks, I see various creatures. Squirrels and birds and rabbits and turtles. This morning, I saw a turtle by the side of the road. And even though it’s Saturday morning, there’s a few cars going by. I pondered whether to pick up the turtle and carry it to the other side. But then, what if the turtle is just looking and doesn’t wanna go to the other side. And if I carry that turtle over, it will need to walk back across the road. If only this were a chicken, I’d make a joke out of it.

LizzieNorval Joe The next topic is PICK TWO Fever Shoulder Torpid Hairbrush A dead plant LIZZIE Beach towel, sunglasses. An empty deodorant can? She’d stopped using spray deodorants ages ago, when being environmentally friendly was a thing. Suddenly, the can beeped. She quickly tossed it away, but her guilty made her pick it up again. Then, a red dot appeared exactly when her ex walked up. “Hello!” For some reason, he took the can from her and… vanished. To her amazement, the can spoke. “Thank you for helping us capture a human specimen of the stupid kind. We’ll research him thoroughly.” Perhaps she could help again. She knew a few more specimens of the stupid kind. RICHARD Warning If there’s one thing I really can’t stand, it’s the nanny state. Politicians, public bodies and corporations ‘looking after’ our interests and keeping us safe from harm. Let’s cut to the chase… I’m perfectly capable of exercising viewer discretion, without being advised to do it by some well-meaning TV announcer. I don’t need a warning telling me the contents of my apple pie or coffee cup may be hot, I can figure that out by myself, thank you very much! As for this warning on my deodorant can: ‘Do not pierce, even when empty’… well, we’ll see about that! TOM Got No Title, Kids As a rule, I’m pretty fluid with topics here at the Challenge. I can say only a handful of prompts have left me staring blankly into space. This is one. So, I asked AI is there any thing interesting about empty deodorant cans. This is what it spit out: Empty deodorant containers are widely available for purchase online for DIY projects, ranging in price from roughly $1 to $3 per unit depending on quantity and material (plastic or cardboard). Is there an infinity retention of value for all manufactured items? Wait! Who these people buying this stuff? Get a life. SERENDIPIDY A chair, bolted to the floor. Cable ties and duct tape. An empty deodorant can and a cigarette lighter, lying together, discarded carelessly on the floor. A cryptic puzzle, silently begging you to put the pieces together. What happened here? Can you guess? Can you work it out? Or perhaps you need something more obvious to reconstruct recent events? The moaning, coming from the corner of the room should be an obvious clue. But, if you still haven’t got it, then maybe you should take a closer look. His melted face is a bit of a giveaway, don’t you think? NORVAL JOE Billbert took Mandi’s hand and they flew to her bedroom window. She pushed it open and waved Billbert in. Once inside, she pointed to her bed. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t think it appropriate for a boy to sit on a girl’s bed but as there were no other chairs in the room he gave up and sat. She brought in an old deodorant can that rattled when she shook it. “Hold out your hand,” she said as she twisted the bottom from the can. Obediently, Billbert did and Mandi shoved a ring onto his finger. PLANET Z It was time to clean out the cupboards in the bathroom. Old pills, crusted-over bottles of cough medicine. It all went in the trash. We found some dead bugs back there. Bandages that fell out of the pack. Cotton swabs, too. Burnt-out light bulbs… we checked them, sure enough. I guess we replaced a few in the vanity and never threw out the dead ones. Some tooth brushes left over from when we went electric. A spent can of deodorant spray. Not sure why that wasn’t thrown out. Empty the bin into the trash can, and close the lid tight.

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate. During his downtime, he liked to walk around the neighborhood. Which wasn’t very difficult when the ship was out at sea since ships are small and walking around a ship isn’t difficult to do. Sometimes he’d walk around twice, sometimes even walking one end of the gang plank and then the other. Sometimes the shipmates wish he would just go all the way over the plank. When they were in dock, he’d walk around the taverns and houses and warehouses. Then he’d sit down on a bench and nap.

Molly and Mindy were identical. Except that Molly wore a tragedy mask everywhere while Mindy wore a comedy mask. Anyone who got to know them… really got to know them, they knew that Molly was the happy one while Mindy was the serious one. But if you really got to know them, you knew not to bring this up with them. Molly and Mindy each kept a razor in their left boot. And if you brought up the thing with the masks, they’d draw their razors and cut your throat. As you bleed out, each whispering in your ear… nothing.

LizzieNorval JoeLewie The next topic is An empty deodorant can RICHARD Like his dad? She turned and smiled at me with pride, “Won’t you just look at that, he’s a real chip off the old block.” Well, he may have been my kid, but I was struggling to see even the remotest resemblance to myself. It was ten years since I’d last seen him, thanks to a very messy divorce. I tried to see myself in him, but I couldn’t equate the skinny, ballet-dancing, somewhat effeminate boy with his beer-swilling, biker dad. “I’m not sure, Sherry, he’s nothing like me.” “I know that, you jerk… It’s me he takes after. Thank God!” LIZZIE The yacht was new. Was it? The plan was to sail aimlessly for a week, exploring the small beaches along the coast. A bad plan. Deciding to sail aimlessly was just the first of many problems. Upon closer inspection, they noticed water and chips of rotten wood drifting inside the hull. Then an error message appeared. An electronic chip was apparently damaged. An argument erupted, and chipped teeth happened. When they finally returned back home, they vowed to sell the yacht, and pay for the dentist with the money. It was either that or try their luck at the casino. TOM Peeking Early He was 42 and his name was Chip. Though he graduated of U of C in business, he worked for his dad at the mobile house company. He actually looked like a chip. Browning blonde hair, a good 6 foot two. Horn rimmed glasses and a not so smile smile. We did a lot of paper work for the purchase of the house. I’m sure he did something to make the paperwork flow. Never learned his give name. Since that was 40 years ago that would make him in his 80s. Can you be Chip rounding 90? Peeking early. SERENDIPIDY Being a contract killer isn’t completely without its risks. There are, of course, the obvious challenges – you’re not exactly dealing with decent folk, and that goes for those hiring you, as well as those you’re going to be taking out. Then, of course, there’s the cops and all the associated dangers of getaway driving, hiding-out and taking care of potential witnesses. As I said, it’s a risky business. However, sometimes it’s the small, unexpected things that really trip you up. Like the last job I did… I got a nasty chip in my nail polish from the pistol trigger. NORVAL JOE Finding a safe place to take off, Billbert flew just above the trees to the Withybottom’s mansion. Mandi waited for him on the front porch. When Billbert landed at the top of the steps, he asked, “Did you forget your key?” She held it up. “No. There’s something stuck in the keyhole.” Billbert peered into the hole. “You’re right. Someone hammered a wood chip into it. Who would do something like that? “Who else?” Mandi stated. “John the butler.” She sighed. “All of the other doors are sabotaged, too.” Billbert said cheerfully, “We’ll just have to find another way in.” LEWIE Title: Repeat Until Texture Is Uniform Charles has indirectly pierced corn husks inside Paul’s chipper. Howling in panic, Charles had ignored pain, creeping humbly, influencing present conditions. Hope infused Paul, carrying him. “I progressed— clearing hazards, I’ll persevere,” calming hands in place. Charles, having ingested protruding cobs, hummed in place. “Charles?” He imagined patterns— circles, heart-infused impressions, pulsating. “Charles!?” Hope impoverished Paul. “Charles, help, I—” paused. Cold hesitation intensified panic. Crushing him in paralysis. Cogs halted in place. Charles hung, irregular. Paul couldn’t help. “I’m powerless…” Crushing hum intensified, persistently. Conscious horror invading perception. Clearly, husks in place. Chewed, hashing into paste. Curiously, hints irresistibly palatable. PLANET Z The Chinese waited until the yields on their microchip fabrication We’re good enough before they invaded Taiwan. It was an absolute bloodbath in the streets and in the markets. Only after the death settled, they revealed that they had 2 and...

As Henry walked through the woods, he listened to the birds and the wind blowing through the trees. Sometimes he would stop and close his eyes and just let the breeze and the music of the forest flow through him. But it was starting to get dark, and checked his map encompass. He didn’t want to pull out his phone, but he wasn’t too sure about where he was, and so he gave in and opened up the map and found that he had gone in the completely opposite direction from his camp. He laughed, turned around, and began walking.

Alfred kept a cheat sheet tattooed on his left arm. Werewolves were silver bullets. Mummies were fire. Vampires were garlic and crosses and mirrors. And so on with the list. Not that he ran into these creatures all that much, but whenever he did, he had their weakness right there. When he ran into things that he hadn’t before, one of the locals would tell him what he needed, and he goes straight to the tattoo parlor and add to his list. Then the store. He always made sure to wear short sleeve shirts when he went out on adventures.

I put a cover over my air-conditioning heat pump to keep leaves and rocks out of it. However, somehow something got in there. There was a loud banging. I turned off the air conditioning to the house and looked under the cover. There was a severed tail at the bottom of the unit and some sort of lizard or frog chopped up and stuck in the grading on top. Apparently it kept bouncing off of the spinning blades, sticking to the grading, and eventually falling back into the blades. I cleaned out the creature, and restarted the unit. Fixed.

Early chemists discovered elements by looking around, maybe digging a little. Maybe they had to heat something up a little. Further on, chemists had to go digging for a really long time, mix vials of goop, and filter out lots of crap to find new elements. As the effort increased, so did the announcements and the launch parties. Pretty soon, they were firing electrons at lumps of stuff behind large amounts of sheeting or concrete walls. And the parties came with parades and fireworks. But this request for a team of skydiving Elvis impersonators? Rejected. Just get a damn cake.

They say that if you meet Buddha by the side of the road, you must kill him. But that is not Buddha. It is Adam West. You know, the guy who played Batman on television. He was a voice in that cartoon show as the mayor. And you killed him. I mean, yeah, people mistake him for the Buddha a lot, I admit it. If they were in a police lineup, you’d have a hard time telling them apart. As if the Buddha would be stealing from a bodega or groping people on the subway. Adam West? Maybe he would.

The alphabet started small. Two or three marginalized groups, bringing their causes together, fighting for their rights. Then other groups added themselves to the alphabet, trying to pin their demand for rights to the causes of others. More and more groups jumped aboard. Pretty soon, the reading of the alphabet took longer than whatever speech or presentation an activist was giving. God forbid they left anyone out of the alphabet, or there would be screaming accusations of marginalization among the marginalized. Eventually, it got too difficult to remember or say, and it was shortened to We hate white straight men.

Lizzie The next topic is Chip RICHARD Might as well jump So, my mate John from the tribute band, Fan Halen, was feeling the show needed jazzing up a bit. It needed more energy, more of a rock n roll vibe. He asked me for some tips. I mulled a few ideas around in my mind, eventually suggesting that maybe he should give the classic stage dive a shot. We decided he should try it at the next gig. All was going well, right up until that moment. John is the only guy I know that can throw himself on top of a tightly packed mass of fans… And miss completely. SERENDIPIDY Classic signs of a violent struggle: significant abrasions, torn nails, multiple defensive cuts to the hands and arms, and a blood spatter pattern that clearly demonstrated this had been a protracted and extremely vicious attack. I’ll be the first to admit, it wasn’t the tidiest of crime scenes that I’d left in my wake, but life can be like that – even with meticulous planning, things can get messy. Then again, I like messy. It’s my trademark. If I left the scene, clean, tidy and clinical, you wouldn’t know it was my handiwork. And, I really can’t have that, can I? LIZZIE Classic. A car? The radio. Classic music? No, the radio. The music on the radio? No, the radio. The officer closed his notepad, shook his head, and walked away. Classic. Someone overheard it. Why classic? The radio. Oh, not the cop? No, the radio. Why did he walk away? Don’t know, but… the radio. No one paid attention. But he knew. The radio had killed them. So, he grabbed it, and walked away. Classic. The word kept repeating in his head. When he smashed the damn thing, it made a fizzling sound and that was it. Classic problem-solving strategy, brutality. TOM The face that launched a 1000 ships She was a classic. Timely with an air of certainty. One could not own such a spirit, only assess it her continuation. To that end I have amassed a considerable fortune in protection lesser soul from gain purchase. Some might point out I may have lost my way in this pursuit. But look at her, she shines brighter than the brightest star. Markus took for last long gaze. He drew the curtain. Locked the door. The air above the bunker was -25. It was 200 miles to the air field. As he fly into the rising sun, Markus thought safe at last. PLANET Z I remember when Coke became New Coke, and then they brought back original Coke as Coke Classic. Pepsi never became New Pepsi or Pepsi Classic, nor did Dr. Pepper, RC. or any other soda. Sprite, Mountain Dew, and Tab didn’t change at all, either. Fanta, that Nazi soda, has never changed. Well, when I say changed, I mean branding. A lot of them have changed from sugar to corn syrup. Although now many claim to use cane sugar. But none are changing to New or Classic. They just say cane sugar on the front and then in the ingredients list.

Art critics are racists. Take two neo-expressionist artists: Cy Tombly and Jean Basquiat. Both made rudimentary art, scribbles and scrawled words. They described Twombly as brilliant, sublime, and amazing. Praising garbage. And they described Basquiat as chaotic, primitive, untrained, and child-like. A graffiti-spraying amateur. Which, to be fair, he was. A homeless drug addict scraped off the sidewalk by Andy Warhol, caged up in a basement, and pumping out art for the dealer upstairs to peddle. Warhol orders an employee to silk-screen up a logo, and then Basquiat defaces it. Me, I describe both as crap. Regardless of their race.

My parents are dead. My father’s brother, my gay uncle, had no children. And before that, the name was what some clerk wrote down. At the immigration desk in the port of San Francisco. When my great-grandfather said Zigmund. And he heard Simon. So, nobody in the old country. Not that any would have survived what happened there. I have no children. My brother does. He has a daughter. But she will take on the name of whatever husband or wife she takes. Her children will have their name. And my family name will be no more. Simon says, disappear.