100 word story

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Thread: 100 word story

  1. #1
    formerly elibats

    100 word story

    Write a story using only, no less than, and <i>exactly</i> 100 words, using each word only once.


    * Using a word and then using the plural form of the word counts as using the word twice.
    * Using a verb and then a different form of the verb counts as using the word twice (for example, you cannot use both "run" and "ran" in the same story).
    * Hyphenated words count as two words.
    * Contractions count as one word, but the words included in the contraction (for example, "they" and "are" in "they're") cannot be used again in the story.
    * Using a word and then using a word that is spelled the same but has another meaning does not count as using a word twice.

    If there's any confusion on other rules I will edit this later.


    My boyfriend's devout recycling is an admirable habit. Problems arise, however, because I take five different prescription medications, so of course every month he insists in scraping the labels off each little orange plastic tube. If Dr. Ferdy cut back on those psychotropic drugs we'd only accumulate two bottles per thirty day period. Doc thinks this coctail works well, but don't antidepressants get canceled out by bipolar meds? How depressing, loafing around a tiny apartment as it fills wall over shelf under windowsill with emptied attempts at bipolar, depression, anxiety and even psychosis cures. Empty chemical shells poison our home.

  2. #2
    I'm not certain if I've repeated words.

    Outside Fuckwit is meowing fervently, his incessant pleading mewling upsetting a busy evening. He begs an audience, yearning for touches, affection—perhaps fresh water or food this time? Demanding pussy.

    I rise from Ronnie Dio screaming rainbows in the dark, grasping cold metal, swinging open my door. Carlin scatters across linoleum, spooked (what else could be new?) once more by that hulking monstrosity who provides to him daily influx of Purina.

    Have they been feeding Stinky chopped liver? one wonders. Five Hundred Birch Street smells like piss again. Soon we will remove our feline’s testicles, and good scents shall prevail.
    "To me, absurdity is the only reality."
    -Frank Zappa

  3. #3
    Quote Originally Posted by formerly elibats View Post
    but don't antidepressants get canceled out by bipolar meds? How depressing, loafing around a tiny apartment as it fills wall over shelf under windowsill with emptied attempts at bipolar, depression, anxiety and even psychosis cures. Empty chemical shells poison our home.

  4. #4
    Join Date
    May 2009
    Grove City

    100 word story

    Outside our window unidentified species of feathered creatures fly and flit while chirping verses indecipherable yet lyrical to my ears. She is below, watching crime dramas or comedians, true Hollywood horrors communicated through boxes which transmutated her mental acuity once gleaming now mush while thoughtlessly expanding that horrible crevice between us. Actors voices conveying nothing but fragmented sounds, still a blinking cursor reminds me I am here as time denotes some shows halfway status. Clock ticks march endlessly toward impending battles sparked by hours spent separately. Wars climatic presence looms close. Sacrificing important freedom should parlay young loveís fearsome tirade.

  5. #5
    She stroked his hand. Glass divided them, distorted their smiles: freakish and twisted. A chamber loomed down the hallway, emitting an ominous silence only he could hear. A matter of time now with polished boots tapping on linoleum, waiting for time to expire. Both breaths grew short; they knew extending inevitability was pointless. One shuffled off, disappearing outside, exercising freedom. Another stood, ready. Strapped down, needle in, poison flowing. Grimacing, smiling all at once, struggling into death's release. Over quickly but always lingering for free walking friend. Guards grinned. I am one. No smirks here. Routine in prison day's work.

  6. #6
    A spider is waking up from our sun's heat. Her web filled with fresh flies. Stretching all eight long black legs, absorbing more energy. After breakfast she gets creative, silk making both beautiful and functional creations. Naturally doing what man needs science for. Propelling down walls gracefully, silently, patiently. Waiting. Setting up elaborate traps only veteran hunters could perfect. Success seems predetermined according to evolution. Black widow living peacefully throughout shadows. Prey becomes stuck, helpless, dead on arrival. Venom filled fangs bring much welcomed ease. Red hourglass representing time no longer promised. Nightfall, accompanied by silence, embraces rest.

  7. #7
    Member MacDub's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2012
    Pacific Northwest, USA
    100 no word repeat

    Darkness surrounded our camp. Untamed mountains stretched out beyond for countless miles. Wild lands, home to any number of hostile animals.

    My hiking partners were gathered together around a stone ring at the middle. Each equally exhausted. Everyone felt hungry.

    "Good thing we found this place," Jim spoke while unslinging his pack. They all followed suit.

    "It would be better if you didn't get us lost," Tom muttered angrily.

    "Just focus on fire. Horseshoe Grove is close."

    Soon, warm light danced comfortingly around them.

    "Uh, guys look," Sally said pointing.

    There u-shaped metal hung from tree trunks, glimmering in reflection.

  8. #8
    (87 Words)

    Jake ran as fast as he could, feeling his legs ache and his lungs clawing for breath. He felt the tall grass whipping at his sides. He wanted so bad to stop and catch his breath, but he knew that if he stopped he would be done for. He could feel it closing in on him, itís acidic stench burned his nostrils and itís horrific screech broke the still of the night air. Suddenly Jake felt it pounce on him, he didnít even have time to scream...

    Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
    The Platypus is my spirit animal


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