100 Words - Bob's Bike

Switchblade Bob had the baddest ass bike in town. It was born of his dad's crazy drunken though mechanically gifted vision. It had a moped engine cranked up beyond belief. The tach duct-taped to the handle bars only went to 9000 RPM and the motor easily buried the needle. The gas tank strapped to the top bar looked like it came off a shrunken copy of the devil's Harley. It was black. Not a shiny black. It was black hole black. Even the red dots of laser pointers failed to appear on it. Bob rode that thing proud and fast.

100 Words - Writing Again

I'm writing in my head again. I sat down to think of an idea for a new novel. The first I came up with was a great idea too horrible to write. It would probably be a great book but it would damage my psyche beyond repair. Then I rifled through every bad idea I ever had. Not for serious consideration but as a nostalgic courtesy. Then it came to me. A page of ideas and notes was quickly populated. As cruel as the first idea actually but with a buffer that should allow the truth without any permanent damage.

100 Words - Builders

I imagined that when I found the perfect music I would become the cool guy that was always my potential. Now, on the far side of fifty, I see that it was supposed to be the other way around. All that time wasted wandering dark alleys in search of answers when it was the questions that were actually missing.

"Build it and they will come." It was true. If anyone built it we would have come. We didn't know that we were the builders. Builders with no blueprints. Players with no games. Dancers with no tunes. Writers with no stories.