Crossroads

100 Words - Fear The Proles

 

They were told to crush the proles. The only problem was that they had no idea who these proles were. So they built themselves a mighty bunker and sat waiting for coming prole uprising. There they say in the ecstasy of security for the rest of their days.

The archaeologists weren’t sure what to make of the compound. It superficially resembled a fortress but was easily breached. The remains inside appear to have all lived long lives, but those lives were devoid of joy. They found no books, no writing, no musical instruments, no alcohol. These were not fun people.

100 Words - Into the Void

 The void presents itself once again, but this time there is something different. Rather than the scary empty darkness I see it as a place with no restrictions. Endless possibilities. No fear. A blank page.

So what shall we build? What will fill our empty space? Will there be music? Books? Movies? Comfortable chairs, or perhaps even a comfy old couch that never looses the smell of Grandma’s brandy spills?

Will there be a garage? I’ve always wanted a garage. Walls lined with tools. Broken machines that need fixing.

Or will there be monsters, waiting to eat my eternal soul.

100 Words - Aristocrat

 Karen’s primary goal in life was to remove the word aristocrat from the English language. She said it aggrandized the rich. To accomplish this she worked her way to be the head editor at a major publisher. No author under her watch ever got the word into print.

Nobody noticed the slow decline in the use of the word till one day the AI at one of the dictionary website found no current use of the word on the internet and quietly added the word “archaic” to the definition.

Looking down from her tower office, Karen grinned into her tea.

Dreaming In Haiku

What happens when your dreams are subjected to rigidly restrictive formatting.

100 Words - Ramble On

 

Tomorrow I plan to go on a ramble, a long bike ride of no fixed route.. This evening I will make a list in my head of everything that could possibly go wrong. Tonight I will have a dream where a dozen things interrupt my ride. In the morning I’ll chicken out and circle the neighborhood, as usual.

Only, I didn’t chicken out. I made it up the first big hill. It was hard, but not impossible. Then down the other side. I didn’t pedal for an hour. Time to turn around. Or is it? Where does that road go?

100 Words - Jacketed

 Once again they are yelling at me because I’m not acting the way that their pills are supposed to make me act. The pills were bad enough, but this straight jacket is what launched me straight into this tantrum. I keep telling them that if take the jacket off and call off the weasels, I’d calm down. They don’t listen.

The weasels aren’t all that bad really. Mostly, they just keep stealing the laces from my shoes. They occasionally bite my ears, but I think they’re after the wax. Their smell is the worst part. The come through the sewers.