Sunday, December 30, 2012


I really dislike dystopian fiction. It relies on the reader having a divergent system of moral beliefs from the society depicted in the work. It then assumes that this divergent moral code is objectively more correct than the dystopian society's. Also, if you just shot the main character, it would become a utopian fiction. There are some exceptions, like The Handmaid's Tale, written by Margaret Atwood. Unlike something like The Giver or Brave New World, the society depicted in THT shows, after the harmonious veneer is peeled away, cracks that can be exposed without the juxtaposition of the protagonist's alternative moral view.

100 Words a Day 142

The expansive house was filled with the odor of death. It didn’t make sense. There was only one body and it was in the refrigerator. It was fresh and shouldn’t be responsible for the overwhelming smell.

Simpsons made his way through the house, looking for the source of the odor. He stood in the foyer after having finished searching the house for a second time and finding nothing. On a hunch, he went to the hall closet. He tapped on the walls, listening. He went back through the house, exploring the closets. In the kitchen, he found a secret door.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

100 Words a Day 141

It was hard to force himself to continue working. It was his last day and he couldn’t wait to leave. He took a deep breath, let it out, and continued putting data in the little columns. Less than four hours and he would never have to do this again.

His book had sold. The advance was enough to pay his rent and groceries for the next few months, which meant he had enough time to write another book.

The clock seemed to be going backwards. It was hard to not glance at it every few seconds, which made it worse.

Friday, December 28, 2012

100 Words a day 140

The diaphanous curtain was pulled open by a soft breeze, and she entered the room. Her dress was the colors of spring, rich greens, purples, and a striking blue. I watched her float across the floor; the soft material making no sound.

When she passed me, it was as though a cool breeze was caressing my cheek. I felt refreshed as she walked deeper into the house.

Her perfume lingered, the only sign of her passing. I couldn’t place any of the scents; their names danced on the tip of my tongue before being blown away by another cool breeze.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

100 Words a Day 139

Jimmy laughed as he finished pouring the rest of the white crystals into the sugar bowl. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Sara’s face when she drank her coffee tomorrow after mixing it with two heaping tablespoons of salt. After topping of the bowl, he replaced it on the table and returned the salt to its space in the cupboard. He took one more look around to make sure no one had seen him; it was late at night, but why take the change. He saw no one and, subterfuge complete, slipped back to bed and fell asleep.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

100 Words a Day 138

The Christmas presents were opened, the ham was eaten, and The Hobbit was seen. It was the end of Christmas Day. Bobby lay in bed, thinking about the great presents he’d received. He was almost as anxious to get up tomorrow to play with them as he had been to get up today to open them. He went over what he had received, checking things off the extensive mental Christmas list he kept.

He fell asleep with a full stomach, dreaming of Legos and Ninja Turtles, and all the other things of which boys drunk on the Christmas season dream.

100 Words a Day 137

The smoke from the barrel of the gun drifted upwards, the silent vestiges of the bullet recently fired, and was dissipated by the ceiling fan.

The hand, hidden by a black glove, replaced the revolver in the holster concealed by his jacket, it then went to a grey pants pocket, the same grey as the jacket, and withdrew a bronze key.

The other hand, similarly gloved, opened the door. Once outside, the hand holding the key locked the door, which bolted with a heavy clank, before returning the key to the pocket.

All that was left was to drive away.

Monday, December 24, 2012

100 Words a Day 136

He slammed his keyboard into the table in frustration.

“Camping bitch!” he shouted.

He couldn’t believe that he had been knocked out of the final round by a camper. That was something noobs did and something that only worked on noobs. He should be better than that. He was a pro.

Well, he was going to be a pro, after he finished school.

Well, he wanted to be a pro.

It was hard work, managing training and school. Most people don’t understand. They think it’s easy to play video games eight hours a day five days a week with classes.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

100 Words a Day 135

He woke up to the credits rolling.

“What did you think of the movie?” she asked.

“Uh,” he said, frantically searching for something to say. He couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened. The movie was so boring from the onset that he fell asleep within the first few minutes.

“I…thought the characters were interesting,” he said. She was always going on about the characters.

“Which was your favorite, baby?” she asked.

“I couldn’t say. I thought the protagonist and her friend had an interesting dynamic.” There was always a friend.

“Honey, you were snoring during the entire movie.”

Saturday, December 22, 2012

100 Words a Day 134

He sighed when he saw the car. The front end was bent around the telephone pole and there was steam coming out of the front. .

“Well, radiator’s shot,” he said. .

He circled the car slowly, taking in the other damage. The windshield was cracked; it looked like a spider web. One of the tires wasn’t facing the same direction as the others. Finally, it looked totaled. .

He cocked his head and a flash of sadness crossed his face. .

“Well Betsy, we had a good run,” he said to the car, running a forlorn hand over the body of his baby.

Friday, December 21, 2012

100 Words a Day 133

The snow was cold against his face. The last time he’d fallen, the shock of the cold had brought him back to full consciousness. Not this time however. The cold snow felt warm against his cheek. He wanted to nestle down in the soft snow and drift off to warm dreams.

He started to drift away, imagining the last time he had seen Viviana. She had worn her hair down, despite the summer heat. She had done it because he loved the way it shimmered in the sun. As they lay in the grass, her soft hand brushed his cheek.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

100 Words a Day 132

Garret dug around in his pockets for change. The other riders stared hellfire at him; the driver refused to pull away from the stop until he had paid the fare.

Hands searching through pants and jacket, Garret eventually found a nickel. With a sigh of relief he gave it to the driver.

The bus doors clunked shut behind him as he walked down the aisle under the smoldering stares of the other commuters. He found a seat, still hot from the previous occupant.

People continued to stare at him. He pulled at the collar of his shirt; he was sweating.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

100 Words a Day 131

“You’re off the force Grabowski! Give me your badge!” The lieutenant shouted.

“Aren’t you going to ask for my gun?” Grabowski demanded as he threw his badge on the desk.

“Yeah, I’ll have that too!”

“And I want you to keep your nose out of this case,” the lieutenant continued as he accepted Grabowski’s firearm, “If I get even a hint that you are poking about, I’ll have you in cuffs faster than Perkins can get from the office to the doughnut shop!”

Grabowski stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the blinds.

Monday, December 17, 2012

100 Words a Day 130

“A Morgan? He drives a Morgan?” Jack said as Dr. Maretti drove by.

 “Does he think he’s a crime kingpin from the 1920s?” he asked.

“Apparently so,” Michael responded, dryly.

 “I can’t take him seriously. How can he possibly be the mastermind behind the string of tech thefts?” 

“Couldn’t say,” Michael replied.

 Jack shook his head. “Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to follow him. He sticks out like a sore thumb in that car.”


 “But how can we catch him in the act? He’s slippery, that one.”


“Do you have any ideas Michael?” Jack asked his friend.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

100 Words a Day 129

The interior of the refrigerator was clean; although if you looked hard there were cracks and crevices the owner had permitted to remain slimy. It was stocked with cheap beer. Cans occupied the majority of the bottom shelf, stacked two high. The crisper contained fruit, mostly the kind that could be used to make cocktails. Vegetables were stored above the beer. Again, they were mostly the kind you would use for drinks. The top shelf of the fridge was stocked with bottles of red and white on their side. They were of a variety of vintages, all of them bad.

100 Words a Day 128

Jason finished tying his tie and looked in the mirror. He looked sharp. He had a hint of a five o’clock shadow and his hair was a little disheveled, just like Jessica liked it. He grabbed the present he had purchased earlier. It was in a matte black box with a crimson ribbon. The bow was expertly tied and soft to the touch. He stepped into his car, which he’d had cleaned and washed that day. With a turn of the key, the engine roared to life. He pushed the clutch in, put the car in gear, and was off.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

100 Words a Day 127

He could almost reach his boot knife. Straining for it, he watched dozens of bubbles, each containing precious air, leave his mouth and float towards the surface. At least I didn’t lose my mask, he thought to himself. The octopus continued to try to wrap him up with its tentacles and had landed a few painful bites with its beak. The water was beginning to turn red. He could see a few sharks making a wide circle around him and the octopus. He didn’t have time to worry about that though. He needed to get to his damn boot knife.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

100 Words a Day 126

The last thing he remembered was the alarm. It had wailed and flashed as he ran for the exit. Now he was in the dark, lying in some cold fluid. He tried to sit up, but there was a heavy weight across his chest. He shoved it off his body, letting it fall to the ground with a wet clang that echoed through the dark. He was surprised at the noise it made when it hit the ground. It didn’t feel as heavy as it sounded. He fumbled around, looking for a light switch or a door. He found neither.

100 Words a Day 125

Strigoi sighed as he ripped off the vampire’s head, casually tossing it aside. It made him sad. His kin used to be Terror. People linked them to the bubonic plague, tuberculosis, things going bump in the night. Now they fodder for girls’ bizarre fantasies. The one he just killed had been the worst. Taking advantage of young girls enamored with the idea of some creature of the night that would throw them down…and bite them gently. He shook his head and kicked the body into the sewer. “We are undead monstrosities,” he said aloud, “not the stuff of schoolgirl fantasy.”

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

100 Words a Day 124

The cashier line was long. Matthew shifted his feet in agitation. He looked at his cellphone again; the minutes were screaming by. “Why doesn’t this ever happen at work?” he muttered to himself.

“Excuse me?” the woman in front of him asked, turning towards him.

 “Huh,” he responded, not realizing he had spoken so loud, “oh, nothing,” he responded, embarrassed.

Matthew looked down at the floor, sighing. Matthew shuffled along slowly with the line, but it didn’t seem to be getting shorter. He did his best to keep his agitation to himself. He was never going to make his date.

Monday, December 10, 2012

100 Words a Day 123

“Literature can be divided into two categories,” Matt said, “short and good, and long and bad.”

 “What do you mean?” Jeff asked.

 “Well, think about it. What are all the books people are forced to read and almost everyone hates?”

 “No idea.”

 “War and Peace, Moby Dick, Don Quixote, the list goes on. And now, think about all the literature people liked reading; Things Fall Apart and The Giver for example. They are both pretty short and don’t try to do anything fancy. They just lay it out for you.”

 “Uh, I guess so.”

 “Exactly. Less words is more better.”

100 Words a Day 122

The stench when he heaved the stone lid off the sarcophagus was horrific. After a few moments the strength of the odor diminished and Hector was able to approach the corpse. The body was heavily decayed. All that remained were bones and some flimsy strands of flesh. The armor encasing the body was corroded. It was black and pitted, the magnificent craftsmanship reduced to scrap metal. The sword however, remained, undamaged by time. Hector pulled it from the tattered remains of the skeleton’s grasp. The weak light of the torches reflected off the brilliant edge of the still sharp blade.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

100 Words a Day 121

When he awoke he found himself on an unfamiliar world. Looking up through the canopy of strange vegetation he saw the lurid green sky. He inhaled the putrid air of the rotting vegetation, and began coughing as the miasma irritated his lungs. After recovering, he crept through the alien jungle. It was full of unfamiliar sounds, creaks and calls that were totally foreign to him. He looked around, searching for anything that might be a threat, plant or animal. He tried to avoid touching anything around him, but the leaves that brushed his clothing left an oily, sticky residue behind.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

100 Words a Day 120

The kitten and the puppy got up together, as they always did, early in the morning. They went bounding into their owners’ bedroom, leapt on the bed, and began nudging Tina. She rolled over, vainly attempting to escape the puppy’s cold nose and the kitten’s pokey one. They prodded her until she got up. Stumbling into the kitchen, she poured breakfast for the two. They attacked their meals with gusto and, upon finishing, chased each other around the apartment. Their eight little feet made a thunderous racket on the hardwood floor. Tina made her own breakfast, occasionally dodging the pair.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

100 Words a Day 119

He could hardly wait disembark. After hours on the cramped jet, they had landed. After what felt like forever, they deplaned. He stepped off and was greeted by a familiar smell, the smell of Barajas. It brought a tear to his eye, that familiar smell. He didn’t even mind the long walk past numerous defibrillators. Customs was a long wait; longer than last time. He shifted his weight restlessly, waiting for his turn to get his passport stamped. Finally it was. Eventually he made it out the sliding doors. He took a deep breath and smiled. He was in Spain.

100 Words a Day 118

The zoo was open despite the cold. The pair walked through the wrought gate and were greeted by the sight of penguins. They were standing on their artificial ice, huddling together. That’s how they stayed warm. “Penguins are so cute!” she said. He didn’t say anything. Girls always said that about penguins. He hadn’t met a single girl who didn’t like penguins. They stood and watched the penguins stand. After a few minutes it, the caretakers let a school of fish into the penguins’ pond. As one, they dove into the water, sliding on their bellies, and went to feast.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

100 Words a Day 117

It was hot. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, causing the cheap ink of the papers he hunched over to run as it mixed with his sweaty precipitation. The heat had been unrelenting for several days. The office manager couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do anything about it. The higher ups sat in their office, cooled by the frosty kiss of their own air conditioner, wanting for nothing. It reminded the boy of that scene from the Oliver Twist movie. He, and the rest of the boys, languished while those in charge luxuriated, and heaven forbid they ask for anything.

Monday, December 3, 2012

100 Words a Day 116

She sat with a beer in her hand, a Sam Adams. And that was exactly why he wasn’t going to talk to her.

Maybe that would have made her the girl who likes beer and is cool back in California, but Chicago was a town with a burgeoning beer culture.

She was pretty cute, but her beer choice was trying way too hard.

He scanned the room and saw a few other girls he wouldn’t mind talking to. He glanced once more at the girl from California. She was definitely the cutest girl in the room, but looks aren’t everything.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

100 Words a Day 115

He stumbled out of his room and struggled to the bathroom, moaning all the way. He had the misfortune to cross a sunbeam coming through the hallway window. It felt warm on his face, and sent lancing pain through his skull. Clutching his head, he fled from the light, eventually finding the bathroom door.

Worshiping at the feet of the porcelain goddess made his stomach feel better, but not the rest of him. With an aching stomach, he crawled back to his room, careful to avoid the sun. He hauled himself into bed and pulled the covers over his head.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

100 Words a Day 114

“Mom!” the boy said, trying to hurry his mother, who was, in his opinion, puttering.

“Yes dear, I’m coming,” she said, continuing to put things away in the kitchen.

“We’re going to be late!” the boy said, his voice cracking with irritation.

“Honey, the dance doesn’t start for over an hour. We aren’t going to be late.”

Her tone exasperated the boy. He could picture her expression. She let her mouth stay open slightly at the end of her sentence and was looking over the rims of her glasses.

He shook his head in frustration and went into the kitchen.

Friday, November 30, 2012

100 Words a Day 113

He swiped his debit card in the reader and pulled on the door handle. Nothing happened. Sighing in frustration he tried it again. When it didn’t work, he realized that the card reader required an unintuitive card position.

He didn’t understand that. Why were all the other readers set up one way, then the one used to access ATM doors was set up a different way?

He didn’t give it much thought beyond that though. He was thinking about what he was going to do with the money he took out. It was a Friday and he’d just gotten paid.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

100 Words a Day 112

The first snow of the year had fallen the night before. I was on the late shift; so I saw it snowing when I went to bed. I slept most of the day, getting up again to work the graveyard. I girded for battle with the howling winds and frigid temperatures, and do battle with them I did.

Only my eyes were exposed, and they ached from the moment I stepped outside. I shivered despite my layers, all the way to the bus stop, where I was greeted there by a small, warm piece of happiness. Someone built a snowman.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

100 Words a Day 111

A string of explosive coughs wracked his body, causing him to sit up and double over. Eventually he was able to draw in a shallow, ragged breath; anything more caused tightness in his chest. He exhaled and lay back down, resting his back against the soft pillows his mother had put behind him.

He tried to relax, but breathing hurt his raw throat and nasal passages. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself on a beach. It was warm and sunny, but he was in the shade. Birdsong wandered out from the jungle behind him. It was pleasant on his ear.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

100 Words a Day 110

The storm tossed the ship all about. The sailors hurried to furl the canvas, climbing the rigging with practiced ease, despite the wrath of the storm. They could feel the ship creak, but the noise was lost in the howling wind.

Jack made sure his knife was secured before ascending the ropes. Stories always had sailors holding the knife in their teeth. That was a great way to lose it, possibly in someone’s skull, but more likely over the side.

He wrapped his legs around the mast and began hauling the sail up. His fellow sailors were doing the same.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

100 Words a Day 109

He rushed into the courtyard and saw her sitting by the pond. He felt a sense of relief, but that was sluiced away as she turned him and he saw her face. It was running down her face like viscous, skin-colored mud. In place of eyes she had to black holes, and in place of her mouth was nothing but drippy flesh.

He could tell, despite her lack of a mouth, that she was smiling at him. It wasn’t a happy smile; it was superior, as though she had gotten the better of him. As he watched she continued melting.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

100 Words a Day 108

It was a great hardship when the horse ran away and very fortuitous when it came back with several other horses, one of which was a champion racer. His son was able to win a big race, which was good. He fell off in the next race though, and broke his leg, which was bad.

The son was unable to work in the fields while he healed and it was a great hardship for the rest of the family. A military press gang came through town and took the able-bodied young men, but they left the boy. He couldn’t march.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

100 Words a Day 107

George asked himself why he was spared when the guy behind him in line died.

There was no rhyme or reason to it. He happened to be first in line, but he could have easily been second.

It wasn’t fair. Why should somebody die just because George rushed to be the first in line that day? He had pushed past a troop of children for goodness sake! He shoved a bunch of kids out of the way and some guy died for it.

George sat on the stoop making mournful noises. He wished he’d never heard of the presidential pardon.

100 Words a Day 106

“Well, I guess Twinkies are gone forever,” Eric said with a sigh

“What?” Drew asked.

“Didn’t you see? Hostess went under.”

“No, but that makes no sense. Someone else will buy the rights to the products.”

“What if they don’t?” Eric asked, his voice saturated with concern and his eyes wide.

“Well, then I guess that’s what happens when everyone wants to make more on a product, spend less on a product, and the product doesn’t make enough money.” Drew said with a shrug.

“I’d better go buy some Twinkies,” Eric said, wringing his hands, “I need one last one.”

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

100 Words a Day 105

He lay completely still under the bush. Around him he could hear the strange, metallic communication of the robots hunting him. They reminded him of that droid that talked to C3PO right before he got shot in Empire.

That was a strange thought to have in a situation where he could easily be killed.

The robots continued to searching, metal feet creaking through the underbrush. He saw the feet of one of the constructs walking towards his bush; it had a single, wicked point at the end of its foot instead of toes. He tried backing further into the bush.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

100 Words a Day 104

He couldn’t remember how many drinks he’d had. That was good. He was on his way to forgetting her. She’d left him for a country far away. He couldn’t blame her, everyone had their priorities. If she had picked him, she wouldn’t have been happy. He wanted her to be happy.

Well, he usually did. Right now he wanted her to be there to help him to bed and take care of him when he had a hangover tomorrow. He drank more, that the pain in his head would exceed the one in his heart. It would help him forget.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

100 Words a Day 103

The traffic went on forever. Stan was bouncing with energy, barely contained by his seatbelt.

“Are we almost there?”

“I don’t know, baby. There’s a lot of traffic and it isn’t moving very fast.”

“But are we almost there?”

Stan’s mom sighed, “I don’t know, Stan.”

The car was hot, the air stagnant. The only thing moving was Stan. He was shaking with excitement and impatience.

“Mom, we aren’t going to make it! We’re going to miss the circus,” he cried.

Stan’s mom wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, “I’m sure we’ll make it.”

Stan’s expression was dubious.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

100 Words a Day 102

The TV channels changed under the absentminded command of his thumb. It was mostly infomercials he had already seen the previous night.

There was an empty six pack of 312 on the coffee table. That wasn’t helping either. It just made him stumble to the bathroom every few minutes. He picked up the last bottle of beer and shook it, determining there was none left.

The beer had actually made him warmer and that had made things worse. He was too hot to sleep now, despite the valiant efforts of his fan. So he sat there in his own sweat.

100 Words a Day 101

The bookshelf was tall and black. Its height and color were its only distinguishing features. There really was not anything special about it. There isn’t anything special about most bookshelves if you think about it.

It’s the contents of bookshelves that are valuable. This particular bookshelf contained the treasured tomes of one reader, a unique collection of books kept on the most generic of storage units.

The contents of the shelf could roughly be described as adventure books. There were classics like 20,000 Leagues and Captain Blood next to contemporary books like Dragons of Autumn’s Twilight and Dies the Fire.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

100 Words a Day 100

He bit into the pesto-cheese garlic bread. It was as delicious as he remembered. No one made garlic bread like Village Pizzeria. The cheese was warm and its flavor blended marvelously with the pesto and garlic.

The pesto was the most intense he had ever tasted. It had been the first pesto he had ever tasted, and all other pestos had failed to measure up since. It was loaded with flavor and the texture was perfect.

As he chewed, he lamented that he wouldn’t have the bread again for a whole year. It made the food taste all the sweeter.

100 Words a Day 99

The spinach was delicious. It was soft, but not mushy, having been cooked correctly. The garlic sauce that had been added to it was excellent, blending scrumptiously with the steamed green.

As he chewed he noticed, as always, that the spinach left his teeth feeling particularly smooth. He wasn’t sure why this happened. It was only with spinach. His mother experienced the opposite, her teeth always felt sandy after eating spinach.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, reveling in the smooth sensation. His grandmother said spinach wore your teeth down somehow. That made very little sense to the boy.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

100 Words a Day 98

The bottle of carbonated water opened with a sharp, short hiss. The condensation on the bottle was chilly, as cold as the water that poured out of the bottle after he brought it to his lips. The water flowed over his tongue, leaving cool relief as it went down his throat. Rehydrated, the inside of his mouth felt dry by comparison. He pursed reflexively, trying to spread the remnants of the water around his cheeks before taking another sip.

This sip he swished around his mouth, closing his eyes in relief. The bubbles left a harsh aftertaste in his mouth.

100 Words a Day 97

Her whole life her father bought generic red apples. Consequently, she never liked apples. They weren’t juicy and lacked flavor. Worse, they were mealy and not enjoyable to chew. On a lark she bought an apple from a fruit stand.

She could hardly believe it was an apple. As she chewed it to mush, she tasted the sweet fruit juice. The flavor was intense, but not cloying like artificially sweetened things. It quenched her thirst, instead of making her thirstier as the cheap apples had. The swallowed bite left a light, refreshed feeling in her mouth and a pleasant aftertaste.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

100 Words a Day 96

It is often said the key to good pizza is crust. I could not agree more. Pizza with a hard crust makes finishing a chore. Generally a too hard crust is also tasteless, and possibly crumbly, which defeat the point of eating or create an annoying mess. A too soft crust also has disastrous consequences for the eating experience. Adjectives like soggy and chewy come to mind.

A good crust should be hard enough to bite, but moist enough that is doesn’t crumble like old brick. A crust in that Goldilocks zone puts a delightful cap on the pizza experience. 

Friday, November 9, 2012

100 Words a Day 95

The chef began chewing slowly. He turned the food over in his mouth, letting the sauce and spices touch each part of his tongue. He analyzed the tastes with practiced skill. He exhaled a little, to get the smell of the food.

Some of the flavors were simple. Rosemary was easy to detect. It was the first thing the chef found. Its pungent odor and bold flavor stood out from the rest of the food.

He felt a slight puckering of his cheeks. He recognized it as lemon.

With two flavors identified, he had a framework to ascertain the others.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

100 Words a Day 94

He had been thirsty, sort of, so he ate the ice cream in the fridge. If he had known it was lemon he would not have bothered. He ate the ice cream voraciously initially, and he briefly felt better. Any feeling of satiety was quickly overshadowed by returning thirst. The ice cream dried his lips and tongue, compelling him to eat more.

The lemon flavor caused him to pucker as he continued eating. It felt as though the water was being squeezed out of his mouth, making him increasingly uncomfortable. His lips became dry and eating the ice cream uncomfortable.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

100 Words a Day 93

She had anticipated this moment all year, when she would sit down at In-n-Out and enjoy a delicious, delectable, and delightful hamburger. The burgers in Cleveland were okay, but they were no In-n-Out. They weren’t as juicy; they didn’t taste like home.

She took a slow bite of her burger, savoring the texture and anticipating how tasty the whole experience was going to be. After a moment she stopped, assessed the taste of the burger and realized it wasn’t how she remembered it. She swallowed then took another bite and, frowning, came to a decision. It just wasn’t that good.

100 Words a Day 92

A lot of people spit out the seeds of pomegranates, he never understood why. Sure the meat of the pomegranate was tart and sweet. It was a juicy fruit, in a way. His favorite part of the fruit was definitely the seeds. They were great to chew, like nature’s gum. You could chew them forever. Detractors of seeds said it was like cud, but cows are sacred in India and pomegranate seeds are delicious everywhere.

He felt that a true connoisseur didn’t mind eating the webby stuff that separated the seeds into chambers of sorts. It was an acquired taste.

Monday, November 5, 2012

100 Words a Day 91

Some people talk about the addictiveness of sugary drinks, or spicy Cheetos, but he couldn’t get enough olives. Delightfully salty, the olive was what he turned to after a hard day. He ate them one by one, chewing slowly and savoring the way it made his taste buds fire. The experience went beyond taste; it was like having his brain massaged.

They caused a slight puckering of his lips and curling in his tongue, like a lemon, but better. It was a sensation that nothing else replicated exactly, or made pleasurably. He found olives addictive, but society did not care.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

100 Words a Day 90

He raised the glass to his lips and drank deeply of the cold water. It passed through his mouth and down his throat, rinsing away the dust of the road. He reflected that the flavor of cold water was indescribable but the feeling was unforgettable. Taking the glass from his lips, he let out a satisfied Ah.

The cold water left his mouth feeling cool and cleansed, free of the sour taste of uncleaned teeth, however briefly. The cool feeling was mirrored in the pit of his stomach and slowly radiating throughout his body. He took another pull of water.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

100 Words a Day 89

She could taste the ocean in the clams. She realized how cliché that sounded, but it was the truth. She didn’t mind that she would get an occasional grain of sand with her bivalve; it let you know they really came out of the water.

The clams were salty. They were cooked with onions, garlic, and tomatoes, which softened the salt water taste and added a contrasting texture that she thoroughly enjoyed. It was easy to overcook this particular clam dish, which left the clams rubbery and somehow ruined their natural flavor, but done correctly they were soft and succulent.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

100 Words a Day 88

There are two types of pears I have encountered.

The first is the worst. This pear is largely flavorless and crunchy. Biting into it is akin to biting into Styrofoam. Like Styrofoam, the crunchy pear lacks anything resembling sugary delight. That this type of pear is even called a fruit is baffling.

The second is the best. This pear is soft and juicy. When you bite into it, the juices flow liberally, delighting the eater with their subtlety and grace. The texture of the juicy pear is soft, a pleasure to chew.

And those are the two types of pears.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

100 Words a Day 87

It was a cupcake tasting. Each was bite-sized and ranged in quality from generic store brands up to artisanal.

She was able to tell the difference easily. The store brand cupcakes were dry and tasted of unfettered sugar. Even the sample sizes she ate didn’t sit well with her.

In contrast, the artisanal cupcakes lacked the same vulgar flavor. Their sugariness was sculpted. The tastes of the frosting blended perfectly with the cake and any toppings.

Her favorite was birthday cake flavored. The frosting tasted just like birthday cake ice cream and the cake itself had sprinkles baked into it.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

100 Words a Day 86

Caprese salad was one of the better salads she decided, mulling the flavors. The fine olive oil mixed with the tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, creating a very palatable texture in her mouth. The three had a subtle flavor that contrasted with the basil and salt, which were bold by comparison.

After crunching the rock salt and chewing the other ingredients she swallowed. The mass of food was cooling in the summer heat. Aside from feeling generally cooler, the taste of the basil and mozzarella left her mouth feeling refreshed.

The next bite contained a kalamata olive. It was delightfully salty.

100 Words a Day 85

The Oreos were delicious. Well, they were at first. The chocolate was slightly crunchy and crumbly, mixing with the frosting as he chewed. The taste of each cookie was distinctly Oreo, a tasty mix of chocolate and sugar. That changed though.

He knew the one he just finished would be the best of the bag. He didn’t pause, reaching for another. He noticed the flavor was diminished as he chewed. Rather than making him want to stop eating, it drove him to eat more Oreos. He hoped each would recapture the deliciousness of the first cookie, but they did not.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

100 Words a Day 84

The first bite of the pickle was always the best. It was cool, crispy, and had a nice crunch. The texture of the seeds and the meat being mashed together was exquisite.

He smiled as he chewed. Brunch at the Jewish place always included pickles. That cool crunch of the initial bite was almost a flavor unto itself and he relished it as much as the salty crunching that followed.

Continuing to chew, he reflected that the Oreo Effect had a slower onset with pickles, which was good. The diminishing returns of the Oreo Effect ruined a lot of binges.

100 Words a Day 83

The beer was from the Midwest, so it had a distinct popcorn aftertaste. Consequently, it went well with the delicious popcorn he was eating. The beer was bubbly when it hit his tongue. The flavor wasn’t complex; it pretty much tasted like beer. The popcorn taste was subtle; one had to have a little experience with Midwest beers before it was noticeable, but then it became unmistakable.

That popcorn taste chased the beer, only manifesting after he had swallowed the brew. It made him smile, to know that he could taste a beer and know that it came from home.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

100 Words a Day 82

The flavor of the popcorn was lost on him. He continued to shovel it into his mouth anyway. His girlfriend convinced him to see this stupid scary movie. He forgot how.

He had been able to taste the popcorn at first; it wasn’t very flavorful. The butter gave it a rich, sickly taste that made his stomach churn a little. Now his stomach was churning for another reason; the movie was scary.

He ate the popcorn mechanically, frantically, hoping the tasteless fare would distract him long enough for the movie to end. He went on shoveling, chewing, and not tasting.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

100 Words a Day 81

The final bite of the meal was unusually sweet. The king couldn’t place the flavor. It wasn’t honey, sort of fruit, or anything he had tried from the New World. He chewed thoughtfully, turning the bite over in his mouth.

It was sweet, but it made his tongue tingle, a novel and pleasant sensation.­­ He continued to chew, savoring the final bite of a delicious meal, and decided he would have to commend the cook for a particularly exquisite dessert.

He was still pondering the flavor when his throat closed up and his eyes widened. Now he knew the taste.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

100 Words a Day 80

After ritual inspection of the wine she put the glass to her lips, taking an exploratory sip.

It was less tart and more smoky, but not as smoky as some she had tried. She could not determine the vintage as it rolled around her mouth, passing over her tongue. The flavor changed as the wine passed over her taste buds, and lingered after she swallowed. It settled pleasantly in her stomach.

A fruity taste wafted up her throat, gradually replacing the wine’s second taste. After saturating her mouth, she felt the fumes drift further upward and tickle her nose slightly.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

100 Words a Day 79

He mixed the white rice with the giardiniera peppers and put a forkful in his mouth. The rice was soft, and he didn’t notice the giardiniera as he chewed. The rice tasted sweet on his tongue. In contrast, the peppers were hot. They made his mouth tingle, but to him it was a pleasant sensation. The flavor and the sensation combined delightfully as he continued to chew.

When he swallowed, the sweet taste of the white rice disappeared. All that remained was the tingling spiciness of the giardiniera peppers. When his food hit his stomach, the peppers warmed it nicely.

100 Words a Day 78

The outside of the steak was delightfully crunchy. It was cooked in a pan, but that didn’t diminish the flavor. He could taste the rosemary, slightly burnt by the cooking process, as he chewed. The flavors: rosemary, salt, olive oil, combined with the texture of the meat, medium rare, as it should be, and made a delectable bite.

Each bite of the steak was delicious and he lamented when it was done. The taste lingered in his mouth. He spent the rest of the party reminiscing on the flavor; the taste of the steak juice and the rosemary he’d eaten.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

100 Words a Day 77

He bit into the ripe, red strawberry. It had a complex sweetness owing to the fact that he had sprinkled them with sugar. It was just a miserly amount, but it enhanced the flavor considerably.

The strawberries were on the cusp of spoiling and had no tartness to them, instead tasting a bit fermented.

As he mashed the berries with his teeth, the flavor continued to wash over his tongue. Finally he swallowed the mushy concoction, and felt refreshed.

He selected another strawberry from the bowl, red and ripe like the first and began eating it.

It wasn’t as good.

100 Words a Day 76

Sometimes you don’t realize what you have given up until long after it is gone.

 He learned that the moment he began chewing the rice. The soft grains shed their flavor as he ate: saffron, clams, shrimp, the list went on.

He had forgotten the feeling that place gave him. The food took him back there. The thought of what he had given up brought tears to his eyes.

He continued eating, savoring every bite. Now he could taste the chorizo; he could never get it like this at home. The flavor was unique, just the way he remembered it.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

100 Words a Day 75

The small village was situated among the mountain peaks. It guarded the pass from east to west, but not on purpose. It was simply the best spot for a village. There was a convenient source of water and the land could be terraced for farming.

The villagers lived there in peace. While it was the only pass through the mountains for miles, it wasn’t an important one and people left the villagers to themselves.

For their part, the villagers were happy to be left alone. They lived simple lives, working in the fields and taking their ease with homemade wine.

100 Words a Day 74

The door creaked open on rusted hinges, causing the men to wince.

“Ah. The conservatory,” the first man said to the second.

“What’s that?”

“It is the place where things are hidden.”

The two men entered, padding across the room on robber feet, careful not to disturb anything.

“What exactly is hidden here?” the rear man asked.

“I don’t know, but we will find out.”

The men slunk to the far corner of the room and began running their fingers along the heavy stone that made up the wall.

A crash from the house drew their eyes to the door

The True Story of the Little Mermaid

As I swam lazily through the sapphire water, I reflected back on my life. I’d achieved many things: long swims across open ocean, dalliances with beautiful turtlesses, and a small home on an exotic beach. But those feats are but sand on the sea bottom compared to my greatest success, writing The Little Mermaid for Disney.

A lot of people think Ron Clements and John Musker wrote the story, and that’s sort of true. You see, I’m John Musker. At least, that’s my penname. I actually gave the original tale to Mr. Andersen, but that’s another story.

Ronnie and I were having some beers, discussing some pitches for Disney when Andersen came up. I don’t remember how. I suggested he do The Little Mermaid, to which he responded the ending was too sad.

“No problem,” I told him. “I can rewrite it, drop in a few contemporary characters, maybe some musical numbers, and there we go.”

“The studio won’t take it without a name on it,” he told me.

“So put your name on it too. I’m a turtle. What would I do with the money anyways?”

We worked out a few more details and before long, it was approved and underway. The project ran into a few snags here and there, but ultimately the addition of Sebastian and the Caribbean music, at the suggestion of Howard Ashman, really tied the whole thing together. 

100 Words a Day 73

She planted the first rambling rose bush for her son and the second for her daughter. All four grew fast. She shaped her children much the same way she shaped the bushes, but without shears.

That changed today. Her children were off to their first year of college; she was moving.

She watched them pile into their friend’s car from the porch, next to the bushes, tears in her eyes.

Pulling into the driveway of her new house; she noticed there were two empty spots on either side of the porch, matching the two empty spots in the back seat.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

100 Words a Day: Guest Post

Today's guest post is by J.P. who describes himself as a part-time author and full-time awesome.

She was late. But that was OK. You wouldn't mind waiting a little longer. The cafe was warm, its interior glowing with the kind of cozy light that only a rainy evening can produce. You could feel, more than hear, the roar of the raindrops, like a hundred master pianists running their fingers across the shingles of the roof. You knew the light from the door, and the single low window of the cafe, was leaking softly from its confines, illuminating the slick cobblestones and providing some evidence of life to the slumped passerby in the little side alley outside.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

100 Words a Day 72

The pair stepped out into the bright Chicago night.

Inhaling deeply and smiling, Chris turned to his coworker:

“There’s nothing quite as marvelous as a pleasant night in downtown Chicago.”

The two waited for the bus. The breeze brushed their shoulders as they stood, watching the bright lights of passing cars mingle with the starlight. Well-dressed people passed them without noticing the pair, on their way home from work or shopping. Blue and red lights flashed down Michigan Avenue, but the sound of the police siren blended seamlessly into the melody of the city night.

“What a town,” Chris said.

Monday, October 15, 2012

100 Words a Day 71

The rough men hoisted the corpse on a rope. They left it dangling on a branch, hanging over their campfire, buffeted by rising laughter. It swayed in the darkness and flickering flame, as though the dead man’s shade hovered over their celebration, unable to escape their gloating. The laughter turned to singing and the men began to dance, lifting their steins into the air, saluting the swaying carcass.

The young recruit lifted his mug, but it trembled. He felt the gaze of the corpse, creaking in the tree, fall upon him. It was a gaze full of revenge; he thought.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

100 Words a Day 70

Chris really was in hot water this time, quite literally. The natives who had captured the great explorer had him tied up and in a large pot; apparently he was going to be the main course.

Oddly enough, there was another man in a pot next to him, also in the process of being boiled alive. Unlike Chris though, he was a native.

Chris had been amazed to find these people practiced cannibalism, morally repugnant as it was, but his shocked when they selected a member of their own tribe, probably related to everyone in the camp, to be cooked.

100 Words a Day 69

The big, blue bus was crowded and everyone on it was an big idiot. No one moved to the back, which was empty, as they boarded. Instead they stood near the door so the long line of people behind them couldn’t get on the bus. The fat bus driver was nearly having a fit trying to get people to move to the back. They were worse than sheep, because at least sheep can be herded. It wasn’t that they were malicious; it was that they were more like camels, obstinate and smelly, and really in need of a good punching. 

Friday, October 12, 2012

100 Words a Day 68

The speaker was droning on, endlessly. John couldn’t even remember what he was talking about. The meeting had started hours ago and showed no signs of ending. The lights were dim so it was easier to see the image being projected on the whiteboard, but they also made John drowsy.

A quick glance around showed several other people with droopy eyes.

That wasn’t the worst of it. It was hot too. He was just on the verge of sweating and falling asleep. A check of his watch told him that less than a minute had passed since the last check.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

100 Words a Day 67

Everything was ready. His shirt and pants were pressed, his tie straight, his hair combed. After taking one last look in the mirror he strolled out the door, grabbing the rose he’d bought earlier that day.

The spring air was fresh, but pleasantly warm. He opened up his lungs, taking in as much air as he could, and smiled as he exhaled. Elated, he continued down the block.

He arrived at the corner before her. He waited under the streetlamp expectantly.

The first sign of her presence was her perfume. He turned around and she was there. She was beautiful.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

100 Words a Day 66

He didn't remember the pain, or the ride in the ambulance. People told him he had been talking the whole time. He didn't remember anything before waking up later that night.

Truth be told, any amount of physical pain would have been preferable to what he was feeling now.

He was a cripple. His dreams were lying back at the scene of the accident, mixing with his blood as the two were washed away by the rain.

Any dreams that were left streamed down his cheeks. His tears ran through his mangled hands, and landed on his coarse hospital blanket.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

100 Words a Day 65

He jumped as the twig snapped. Turning quickly he peered across the campfire into the darkness. Realizing his mistake, he swore softly and turned from the fire but it was too late.

He looked out beyond his small camp; all he could see was darkness. His night vision had been spoiled by looking at the light.

He tried to use his ears to hear the movement of whatever had broken the twig, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat.

He thought he heard the crackling of dry leaves and turned, hoping to locate the source of the noise.

Monday, October 8, 2012

100 Words a Day 64

The building had a large neon sign, Abbot Hotel, flickering in pink. The exterior was dirty. It looked as though it had been built fifty years ago and never cleaned. Parts of the corners had cracked off and the windows were unclean. A lonely air conditioning unit sagged from a window near the top floor. Through the glass entrance doors, a strange, greasy man could be seen sitting behind the concierge desk.

If all that wasn’t unsettling enough, it was across the street from a church. It was large, built in the gothic style, full of gargoyles and imagined horrors.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

100 Words a Day 63

Michael sent the pizza dough spinning over his head. It was a little lopsided, so its spin was irregular, causing it to stretch unevenly. He frowned as it came back down, landing unceremoniously on the table. He grudgingly reached for his rolling pin.

“If only the damn refrigerator hadn’t broken,” he muttered to himself.

That was the problem. The refrigerator had broken so he had been forced to store the dough in an ice chest, making it too cold. Taking it out an hour early was not sufficient to allow it to soften sufficiently, making it hard to work with.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

100 Words a Day 62

The dead snake’s stomach contents lay in a mess, the half-digested remains of a mouse among them.

“Now the eggs I guess.”

“Yeah,” the other mouse said, gripping his hammer and walking towards the nest.

There were a dozen eggs and they mice smashed them all.

The embryotic fluid mixed with the dirt the mice had accumulated climbing the steep walls to the nest, leaving them sticky and dirty. They panted from the exertion of smashing the shells, but were rewarded by the sight of the dead, half-formed snaklings that would never grow up and threaten travelers on the road.

Friday, October 5, 2012

100 Words a Day 61

The tea was delicious. Josh always drank iced tea at the Brunch N Punch. It was his Sunday ritual, have a tea and brunch while watching the amateur boxing matches. The matches were always in the morning. People arrived for brunch and stay the whole afternoon to watch the fights. It was something of a community, strange, but close knit. It had grown in recently, after Danny “The Hammer” went pro and credited his fights here to making him such a well-rounded fighter. Josh remembered watching him getting the piss beaten out of him while drinking the same great tea.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

100 Words a Day 60

The sound of the duct tape was comforting. The feel of it coming off the roll was reassuring, like shaking hands with an old friend. He wrapped it around the unconscious man’s mouth, an action as familiar as tying the laces on his favorite pair of shoes. After that, he duct taped the man’s hands and feet together while humming a little ditty. His sunshine demeanor contrasted with their subterranean surroundings. The man, bloody and beaten, was lying on the cold cement. Despite the presence of his familiar friend, the duct tape, the new surroundings made him uncomfortable, and mad.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

100 Words a Day 59

The red curtains were too long for the height of the white ceiling, but they had neither the money nor knowhow to shorten them. That was okay though, they didn’t really care either. They’d gotten them for cheap when their neighbor moved. They thought the curtains went with their walls, which were blue. The curtains, despite being cheap, had a sort of, shimmery quality to them. They liked that. They were striking when compared to the rest of the apartment. It had hardwood floors that went well with the curtains and the walls. The whole place fit together unexpectedly well.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

100 Words a Day 58

The snake slithered silently through the soft sward. Its tongue flicked out as it glided along, tracking a mouse. The blades of grass rippled as the snake passed between them, indistinguishable from the ripples created by the soft breeze. As it neared the mouse, the snake could smell the seeds it was gathering. Without a thought it slowed and crept forward, as much as a snake can creep, in silence. It froze when it smelled the mouse within striking distance, collapsing itself slightly in preparation to spring. The mouse was oblivious, continuing to gnaw at the seed in its mouth.

Monday, October 1, 2012

100 Words a Day 57

“Did you see the video of the octopus? It steals a bait canister!”

“Okay? What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, it unclips three freakin’ things and steals this bait canister.”

“Again, who cares?”

“It does it while holding a small shark away from the food. It’s awesome!”

“Okay, so there’s a video of a genius octopus taking some food.”

“It’s not a genius octopus. That’s what’s so crazy. It’s a regular octopus.”

“Still not convinced.”

“Mark my words. You have just witnessed the first event that will lead to the conquest of the world by the octopi nation. Just you wait.”

Sunday, September 30, 2012

100 Words a Day 56

“The sleep of Reason produces monsters.”

I had spent most of the semester being bored in my art history class, then I heard those words. They were enough to get me to forget about why I was stuck in this stupid class in the first place, Jenna. We were supposed to take this class together; she dumped me the day before the drop date.

Being a little out of sorts, I missed the drop date and was stuck in a boring class, previous sentence excepted of course, in a room that was too warm and devoid of any cute girls.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

100 Words a Day 55

Pale moonbeams illuminated the fog spiraling around their legs, but did little to illuminate the moor. As they staggered on, their feet sank into the spongy ground, as though it were trying to impede their escape. The tall marsh grass was rough against their skin, which peeked through tears in their pants.

Their hearts beat faster at a strange noise in the distance. Their tired breathing became ragged and raspy as they pushed themselves out of a trudge and into a wobbly trot.

They noticed the mists rising up around them, now up to their waists, but they never slowed.

100 Words a Day 54

“Ah shit,” Matt said as the death scream issued forth from the TV. “How do you beat that fucker?”

“Shit if I know,” Doug said, getting up. “I’m gonna get a pop. You want something?”

“Uh, sure,” Matt said, interlacing his fingers and stretching out, “a coke would be great.”

His knuckles cracked and he let out a sigh before sinking back into the couch. His brow was furrowed as he slouched, waiting for Doug to return. He reflected on how they were going to get past the Guardian.

The damn thing just wouldn’t die! Nothing seemed to hurt it.

Friday, September 28, 2012

100 Words a Day 53

The penguin’s name was Perky. Instead of a forward-pointing beak, Perky had an upward-pointing one that was losing its yellow coloring and beginning to show the stitching underneath. His wings hung unevenly at his sides; one had almost been torn off and hadn’t been sewn back on properly. He never could use it the same. A white film had begun to obscure the black of eyes, blinding him. He was an old penguin, but he measured his age not in years. Rather he measured it in things like afternoon naps, walks in the park, and trips to the candy shop.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

100 Words a Day 52

Jack was in line, album in hand, all he had to do was ensure she was his cashier. He feigned looking at the clearance albums and waved  people past until he heard the sound of her voice.

“Next,” she called, waving.

He hurried over to her register, placing his cd on the counter.

“I like your Go Kart Mozart pin,” he said.

“Thanks!” she replied smiling, her pink hair bouncing slightly. “Did you see they’re having a Kickstarter to go on tour?”

“No, but I’ll definitely be giving.”

“That’s so cool of you!”

“Maybe we could go see them together.”

Go Kart Mozart is in fact having a Kickstarter to go on tour. You can give here:

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

100 Words a Day 51

It had been a long journey through cold mountains, but that was far from everyone's minds. There was a feast, or what passed for one now, laid out before them. Dirty camping plates were filled with beef, rice, and fruit. During the journey over the mountains, they survived on pork jerky and root vegetables, usually cold. After days of hard chewing, the beef was unbelievably tender and the fruit marvelously soft. And the flavor! Each swore that it was the best meal they could remember eating, even though it would have been considered pretty standard fare just a decade ago.

Monday, September 24, 2012

100 Words a Day 50

“Just ten more minutes,” Chris sighed to himself.

“I feel your pain,” Christina said, “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, typing with all the interest he could muster.

Their supervisor was pacing back and forth down the aisle, looking over everyone’s shoulder.

Chris and Christina fell silent as he passed by.

“Ugh, I wonder how he feels knowing everyone loathes him so,” Christina said.

“I wonder how he can live with himself,” Chris said.

“I bet he lives in a small apartment by himself, dreaming up ways to make our lives miserable,” Jeff chimed in.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

100 Words a Day 49

They saw a pair of legs sticking out from behind the large potted plant. As they neared they realized it was an old woman.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurrying over.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the old lady said “I just took a fall.”

“Do you need a doctor?”

“No, no, no, I’ll be fine. I just need a hand up.”

“Okay,” he said, grabbing her arms, “one, two, three, up.”

The woman heaved herself up with the aid of the man, nearly collapsing as she put weight on her right foot.

“I must have hurt my foot when I fell.”

Saturday, September 22, 2012

100 Words a Day 48

“I wish I wasn’t stuck at home,” Donald said with a sigh.

“So why don’t you go out?” his sister asked.

“With who? There’s no one for me to go out with. Everyone is already busy.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“Well, I guess you should call them and find out if they really are busy,” she said with a look.

“They are all busy. They are all already out and doing things.”

“Nothing is stopping you from going out, Donald.”

“How will I get to where they are? I don’t have a car.”

“Take the bus.”

Friday, September 21, 2012

100 Words a Day 47

"Alright, to start things off, I want everyone to stand up, say their name, and something about themselves. Starting with you," she said pointing.

The chubby young man stood, saying: "My name is Augustus and I have a dog.”

“Heh, he looks just like that kid from Willy Wonka,” a girl in the back whispered.

“Yeah, a real butterball,” her friend replied.

A homely girl stood next, “My name is Veronica; I do gymnastics.”

“Maybe they could get together,” the first whisperer said.

“She could help him lose weight and he could kiss her.”

“Nobody else will ever want to.”

Thursday, September 20, 2012

100 Words a Day 46

“Thanks for coming today, Harry,” the interviewer said.

“Thanks for taking the time to interview me,” Harry replied, taking a seat.

“So, tell me about your experience at Paper Co.”

“Well,” Harry began, gearing up to deliver his well-rehearsed speech,­ “I was responsible for cold calling distributors and trying to get them to carry our paper products.”

“Okay, and what was the hardest part about that?”

“Hm, definitely having people just hang up on me, usually angrily. It made it hard to keep my spirits up day after day.”

“I can imagine. How did you deal with that?” he asked.

100 Words a Day 45

“You’re the only one who understands me, Rover,” the boy said to the dog.

The dog just stared at him.

“My parents don’t understand; I don’t care about wearing tie to work,” he said, while scratching the dog’s ear.

The dog panted with a lolling tongue, but made no other response to the boy’s statement.

“I’m gonna be a Rock n’ Roll singer,” the boy said matter-of-factly, looking down at the dog as he finished.

Rover was on the floor, looking like he wanted to be pet.

“That’s what I love about you Rover, no judgment.”

The dog stayed quiet.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

100 Words a Day 44

“I’m not trying to sell you anything.”

“I’m on the Do Not Call list! I told them not to keep calling me.”

“Ma’am, I am calling from a Market Research company.”

“I want my name off the call list! I don’t want any more calls from you people.”

“Ma’am, I’m trying to give you money for your opinions.”

“My opinions? This is just a trick to get me to buy something!”

“No it isn’t ma’am. I am from a market research company. I am trying to give you money.”

“Give me money! You people are just a big, damn scam!”

Monday, September 17, 2012

100 Words a Day 43

“Sean, things haven’t been working out.”

“What do you mean, Felicity?” he said, worried.

“Just that, Sean!” she said, her eyes red and teary, “It’s just not working out,” her voice trailed into silence.

Sean stood mute, not knowing what to say.

“Say something Sean. Don’t you have anything to say?”

“What can I say Felicity? What will change your mind?”

Felicity thought before speaking:

“No Sean.”

Sean simply stood, not speaking for some time. When he finally opened his mouth, no words emerged and he merely closed it again, shaking his head.

Felicity looked at Sean, who stood unreadable.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

100 Words a Day 42

Before getting into the 100 Words a Day, let me apologize for the sporadic nature of posts over the last two weeks; I have been without internet.

More importantly, I was just published here:

“So, uh, Sherri, what do you do besides work?” Jack asked.

“Uh, hm, well,” Sherri said nervously, “nothing really. I hang out and watch movies I guess.”

“Oh…That’s cool.” Jack fell silent, unsure what open ended question he could ask after that.

They pushed their food around their plates for a few minutes before Jack said:

“What kind of movies do you like?”

“Uh, all kinds I guess,” Sherri said, and after a pause, continued “what do you do other than work Jack?”

“Oh,” Jack said, brightening up, “I write LOTR fan fiction and maintain a LOTR fan fiction website.”

100 Words a Day 41

The couple’s discussion was interrupted by the arrival of their server:

“Hi, my name’s April. I’ll be your server today. Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

“I’ll have an iced tea please,” the man said.

“Diet coke for me,” said the woman.

“Okay, and do you know what you want to eat or do you need a little more time?”

“I think we’re ready,” the man said, drawing out the last word as he looked across the table at the woman.

“Yes,” the woman said, answering his unspoken question, “we’ll start with the prosciutto sampler plate with breadsticks.”

100 Words a Day 40

“Can I help you?” the woman said.

“Uh, yeah,” the young man replied, “I’m looking for something for my girlfriend.”

“Okay. Do you know her size?”

“Um, no, but I brought a few pictures of her. Would that help?” He asked, handing the saleswoman some photos.

“Yeah, tha’d help a lot actually. Are these the sort of outfits she wears normally?”


“Well,” she said, “what do you think about something like this?” leading him over to one rack.

“Uh,” he said, looking around, suddenly aware that he was the only man in the store. “Yeah, uh that looks good.”

100 Words a Day 39

“The child and I color red.”

“Wha’d you say, man?”

“The child and I color red.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You will see; everyone will see, the color red.”

“What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout, man?”

The disheveled looking man sat up from on the bed and looked across the room at his cellmate, his disturbed eyes boring into the petty thief.

“I said: The child and I color red,” the man jumped to his feet.

“You are one crazy son of a bitch.”

“Yes, yes I am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I will paint red.”

100 Words a Day 38

“I’m so happy I have the internet!”

“Why? So you can see what lame things people are doing on Facebook?”

“No, I can update my blog. Duh!”

“Your blog? Nobody reads that thing. Who cares if you write one hundred words a day about some story? I mean, you don’t get to find out how it ends, or where it began.”

“That’s not the point. The point is to write the hundred words. If you have too many or too few you have to figure out how to jiggle everything together.”

“It’s still lame.”
“That’s not what your mom said.”

Friday, September 14, 2012

100 Words a Day 37

“You need to feed the snake,” he scolded, “he hasn’t eaten in over two weeks.”

“I’ll feed him tonight.”

“You should feed him today, this afternoon. You aren’t doing anything.”

“I’ll feed him tonight. I’m so tired. I need to nap.”

“How would you feel if I said that I wasn’t going to feed you anymore because I was too lazy?”

“I’d be sad.”

“How do you think the poor snake feels? At least you could whine about it or make your own food. Poor Nikki can’t do that. All he can do is slither around his cage in impotence.”

100 Words a Day 36

“You’re in a lot of trouble young man,” Sister Hooker said.

“I’ve had to do a lot of disciplining in my time at St. Mary’s, but never have I had to devise a punishment for someone with such an extensive collection of pornographic material.”

“Sister Hooker, it’s not mine. I swear.”

“Don’t play innocent boy, the Lord can see through your lies, so can I. It will just be worse for you in the end.”

“I didn’t do it sister,” the boy cried, tears welling in his eyes as the sister brought the paddle out.

“Come here and bend over.”

Sunday, September 9, 2012

100 Words a Day 35

They sat silently, eating their food and listening to the conversations going on around them.

“I don’t know if I should take this job. It’s so such a long commute and it’s not that much more money.”

“Yeah, but isn’t there a lot more potential for growth?”

I suppose, but…” the rest of the sentence was lost in a clatter of plates.

The siren of an ambulance passed by the restaurant.

“I’ve got this funny spot on my butt; I’m thinking of going to the doctor about it.”

“Ew, no one at the restaurant wants to hear about it, Jack.”

100 Words a Day 34

“The hardest part about the temple so far has been carrying the water.”

“It’s true what they say then?”

“Yes brother, every day up before dawn and down to the well with the heavy, spikey buckets. We fill them up and carry them, arms out so we don’t get stabbed.”

“Wow, what happens if someone can’t hold the bucket up?”

“They go to the pagoda forest I guess.”

“That’s a bitter way to treat your novices.”

“Yes brother, but Kung Fu is a harsh and greedy mistress.”

“Is it worth it?”

“It’s not a price you think about before paying.”

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Word of the Day 33

“I hate this job,” Greg said.

“Me too,” Dom responded.

“I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m finally getting interviews you know. Now that I actually have a job, even it is this shitty one.”

“Really? That’s weird,” Dom replied before both fell silent as the door to the back room opened and their boss walked in.

“So yeah…” their boss began, both Dom and Greg groaned inwardly, it was going to be like the scene in Office Space

“It would be a big favor to me if you guys could stay late and get that project finished.”

Word of the Day 32

“What can I help you with today?”

“I need to take some money out.”

“Do you have your atm card?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, “well, you see. My dog ate it.”

“Really?” the teller responded with a mixture of amusement and surprise.

“Yeah, I know it’s the most first grade response ever to a question like that, but it’s the truth,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and his mouth.

“It’s not the wildest thing I’ve heard,” the clerk said before resuming a more professional tone, “I’ll need some information from you to access your account.”

“I have it all with me.”

100 Words a Day 31

“So, are you going to come home with me or what baby?”

“I already told you no,” she said rolling her eyes. “What didn’t you get?”

“Aw don’t be like that baby, you’re so beautiful, don’t let me sleep in a cold bed tonight,” he said with a hint of a drunken slur.

“Maybe you should light yourself on fire, asshole. That’d keep you plenty warm tonight.”

“I want you to light my fire baby. Just like Jim Morrison. They call me Mr. Mojo Risin, I bet you’d love to know why.”

“Gross. I’d rather be shot in the face.”

100 Words a Day 30

“Dude, your writing is so pretentious sometimes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Susurrate, what the hell kind of word is that?”

“First off, it comes from Spanish. It means to whisper. Second, it’s got some good S sounds. Third, have you ever heard the noise trees make? It’s like a hiss, but not exactly. So really, susurrate is a great choice.”


“It’s not my fault you have the same level of vocabulary as your students.”

“But it is your fault that you pick big words that people don’t know.”

“I just have a big vocab. I read a lot.”

Monday, September 3, 2012

100 Words a Day 29

“Isn’t it beautiful up here, above the clouds?”

“Yes,” she agreed, wrapping herself around his arm and putting her head on his shoulder, “The buildings look like they are floating on the clouds.”

“Yeah, what a city…” he agreed resting his head on hers.

“It’s like that one area in Chrono Trigger.”

“Zeal?” she suggested.

“Yeah, that one, except without the overt racism and the magical catastrophe,” he said.

“Heh, that would sure shake things up, a magical catastrophe.”

“I know, right?”

“Nerds,” someone behind them muttered.

“I bet that guy would be Dalton.”

“Totally,” she agreed with a giggle.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

100 Words a Day 28

“I’ve never had Korean food,” Paul said.

“You’ll love it, all guy food,” Paulina said, “Gary always wants to go there.”

“What if I don’t? What will I do? I want Joanniffer to like me.”

“Jesus, Paul,” Paulina exclaimed, throwing her arms up in exasperation, “if she doesn’t like you because you don’t like Korean food, is she really the kind of girl you want to date?”

“Well no, but…”

“Then why are you bothering me with this?”

“I want to impress her. I really want her to like me!”

“Then don’t be weird like this when you are there.”

100 Words a Day 27

The two men stared at each other from across the sandy pit.

“I’ve waited a long time for this Shao. I’ve brought my father’s sword to have my revenge.”

“Ha, your father was a weak man with a weak sword, and his son is just the same. Do you take comfort in the fact that after you die today no one else in your bloodline will have to suffer the humiliation of defeat?”

“The only one suffering the humiliation of defeat today is you Shao. Have you made peace with heaven?”

“Peace is an idea for fools, like your father.”

Thursday, August 30, 2012

100 Words a Day 26

"That hit was huge," he exclaimed to the brunette beside him.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“How does a Chicago fan end up watching Derby in a bar in Denver?” he asked.

“I could ask you a similar question about how a guy wearing a fancy shirt and a tie ended up in a bar watching Derby.”

“I asked you first.”

“I came out here for college, got a job and stayed. What’s your story?”

“When I was poor I’d go to the bouts because I’d get in free if I volunteered and I kept going after I could afford to pay.”