100 Word Story Challenge! - Page 16


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Thread: 100 Word Story Challenge!

  1. #151
    Daymare (Anxiety)

    Tingling in my toes. I’m dying. No, it’s the oxygen … not enough oxygen. Throat closing. I’m dying. With my other eyeball I see the zombies crawling, as if they were really there.

    Just breathe …

    I put food in my mouth. It becomes a living squirrel. I try to drink water; it’s full of tiny dead babies. I pick up my toothbrush, and it turns into a snake. Everywhere, everywhere, those awful orange worms, on the floor, on the walls, squishing under my heels--I shake my hands as hard as I can, trying to make them go away.



    Next theme: Secret place
    "So long is the way to the unknown, long is the way we have come. . ." ~ Turisas, Five Hundred and One

    "[An artist is] an idiot babbling through town. . .crying, 'Dreams, dreams for sale! Two for a kopek, two for a song; if you won't buy them, just take them for free!'" ~ Michael O' Brien,
    Sophia House

    Christ is risen from the dead,
    trampling on Death by death,
    And on those in the tombs,
    lavishing light.



  2. #152
    Sanctuary (secret place)

    The ashes and splinters of yesterday are stripped away by the sanctity of the sanctuary as I slide into my new skin of tomorrow. The strife, the fear, the sadness are cleansed with forgetfulness. The sanctuary breathes inner peace, resets flawed perspectives and repurposes the inner strength towards the new battles of the new dawn. To some this secret place is an oasis to others an isolated dwelling and to others still it is a locked room reserved for desolate prayer. For me it has always been my home. Away from anxiety.

    Attention span
    (anxiety)

    Focus! They are saying something important, I have to listen… Even though the deadline on my high priority tasks was yesterday. Or was it the day before? What are they going to say? What will they think of me? Am I a failure? No! Everyone makes mistakes once in awhile. They will understand. They will listen… Like I fail to right now? What did they say? Are they breaking? I should have really paid attention. I’ve done it this time. Wait, here they come. Are they mad? No. Phew… Sure, let’s have lunch!

    Next theme: Psychosis
    I threw a glance at humankind and saw them treacherous and feeble.
    Severe judges, cruel, unkind and fools who are always close to evil.
    Before their frightful, anxious mob, indifferent hate forever rages.
    Not learnt the lessons from the ages!
    What use are wise and tempered words?
    "Sometime, in my sweet blindness" - Pushkin

  3. #153
    Theme: Psychosis

    Rocking Horse (100 words)


    Nickels clinking into the rocking-horse-machine. Grimy old nickels, ones you find under restaurant counters. You can get enough to fill all your pockets full.

    You can get enough so you could buy anything. But you picked the rocking-horse-ride.

    Like when you were little, and you got to have a gumball and a ride. The glory of it! Again, you would beg, but you had to go home.

    But you didn’t have to go home now. You could ride forever, putting in nickel after nickel—

    Ma’am.

    No. No! I don’t want to go home.

    Nickels scatter across the sidewalk.

    Not again.


    Next Theme: Primordial
    "ring the bells (ring the bells) that still can ring
    forget your perfect offering
    there is a crack in everything (there is a crack in everything)
    that's how the light gets in."

  4. #154
    In The Beginning

    "A little more carbon, I think," said the boy.

    His Dad, sprinkling hydrogen from his fingertips, smiled and added a drop. "Beauteous."

    "Hey Dad, watch this!" The boy smashed a ball of dust together. It glowed white-hot.

    His Dad made his own clump and tossed it at the boy. It exploded on his face in a brilliant crimson flash. "I like it, son!"

    The boy roared with laughter, and sent his star hurtling like a snowball. Star after star they sent flying at each other, making circles in the formlessness, together kneading the whirling void.

    Next theme: bogeyman
    "So long is the way to the unknown, long is the way we have come. . ." ~ Turisas, Five Hundred and One

    "[An artist is] an idiot babbling through town. . .crying, 'Dreams, dreams for sale! Two for a kopek, two for a song; if you won't buy them, just take them for free!'" ~ Michael O' Brien,
    Sophia House

    Christ is risen from the dead,
    trampling on Death by death,
    And on those in the tombs,
    lavishing light.



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