100 Words – Water Baby

She was born a water baby. Even at just a crawl she sought out water. Puddles, then streams, rivers, lakes and finally the ocean. Her heart nearly broke from excitement at her first sight of waves. She sat down among them, knowing she had found home and peace.

After that she never lived far from an ocean. She couldn’t always see it but she knew it was there. She could taste it on the breeze.

When it was her time she went to it. Waved goodbye to life and walked in. The waves accepted her and fed her to forever.

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100 Words – Farmers Lonely

She dreams of a small farm with horses, baby goats and exotic birds. He dreams of driving a pickup truck and welding tractor parts. They would be a match made in heaven if they didn’t hate each other.

They met on a rural dating website. They were surprised that they had several mutual friends who all blessed their meeting. Both felt the pressure to make it work.

It started well. The difficult topics of politics and religion were breached without any roadblocks. Both wanted children. Then they hit the wall. She liked the Mud Hens. He was a RubberDucks fan.

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100 Words – Bucket Drip

Drip. A drop in the bucket. Drip, drip, drip. More drops in the bucket. Another pint and she’ll be empty, but the bucket is only half full. I’ll need another “her.”

For all the wrong reasons, it has to be a her. I have no excuses, no apologies, no manifesto. I just do these things because they appear in my head.

There are no voices, only thoughts. Thoughts lead to actions. Actions lead to these horrors I commit. I wish someone would stop me, but they are all stupid.

Maybe I need to leave better clues. Like the Batman villains.

#100words #bucket #drip

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100 Words – Bad Dream Catcher

As a means to revenge on her cheating asshole of a boyfriend she sliced his dream catcher in two. His cursed dream catcher. The curse was just one of the many secrets he kept.

She spent days in a waking nightmare of evil. No monsters or demons, just people. Real people doing things to each other beyond horror. Visions of torture, physical and mental, filled her mind. Then the visions would fade to a black space surrounding his face, twisted in pain.

The horrors were so terrifying that she almost forgave him. Almost. A doomed asshole is still an asshole.

#100words #baddreamcatcher

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100 Words – Trophy

The huge trophy appeared to be of polished silver, when viewed from 30 feet. The closer you got, the more plastic it became. With every step the glean turned green. The name carved into the base became shaky and amateurish.

But it was my trophy. I earned it. A season of hard work. I took the third step on the podium full of pride and the cute clerk from the front desk handed it to me.

I put it with pride in my living room on a pile of books, which was the closest thing I had to a mantle.

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100 Words – Transfer Station

The woman with the clipboard met me at the transfer station gate. My little pickup truck was out of place among the giant garbage trucks. My paranoia screamed. I kept checking the mirrors for angry relatives. None appeared.

My load was just one tarnished old statute of civil war era family embarrassment. I was nominated to remove it and drive it three towns away because I’m the only one with a truck, and I wasn’t a racist asshole. Lucky me. I may sell the truck.

The woman shrugged her shoulders. I paid the dump fee and she waved me in.

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100 Words – Bob The Verbose

Bob the Verbose, patron philosopher of cheap whiskey, stood on the street corner shouting his scriptures of nonsense at the sinfully sober crowd. Nobody really cared about his message, but the constant mentions of strong drink kept his audience, in equal parts, ready to join in and ready to condemn.

Building to crescendo, Bob halted for a mighty pregnant pause, which the inattentive crowd mistook for the end of the speech and wandered off. All attempts at recovering his hold over the audience failed in ever feebler pleas.

Bob packed up. Barely enough in the tip jar for a pint.

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