Tag: 100 word fiction

For Sale: One Nearly Empty House

For Sale:

A spacious, four bedroom house in a quiet neighbourhood. 10 minute drive from the beach and 15 from the City centre. Bedrooms are all large with stunning sea views. Newly refurbished kitchen and dining area.  Ideal family home.

Property also comes with an attic ghost. Not creepy, just extremely cranky (especially around holidays). He moans and wails and rattles his chains a lot and there seems to be very little any of us can do to calm him down. He refuses to leave, which seems fair enough as he was technically here first.

Will accept offers under the asking price.

via Daily Prompt: Cranky

Wheel of Fortune

 

The Casino is filled with merriment.

The Fates sit around a roulette wheel. Folly continues a losing streak on a fruit machine. Sloth sleeps in a corner. Vice serves drinks and Gluttony drinks them all.

The three Fates keep playing. Clotho spins the wheel. Lachesis places a bet. They do not gamble with chips, they bet their threads- each one representing the life and fortunes of a man. They wait. A loss. Atropis smiles and cuts the thread.

A man on Earth has been terminal for months. He takes a last breath and feels the thread snap.

He feels fortunate.

via Daily Prompt: Fortune

No Man’s Land

An old soldier stands in a poppy field, unsettled by the peace.

Who’s territory is this now?

The source and sight of so much conflict lies dormant. Tourists pass through and somebody tends to the poppies, but nobody stays.

He wonders why. Was this empty field worth the blood spilt if it was only ever going to be a home for the dead? Why did they fight so hard for this empty space? Do friendships grow amongst the friends and foes buried beneath the poppies?

The old soldier touches a medal on his chest. This land belongs to the fallen.

via Daily Prompt: Territory

Tempestuous Territory

Many have tried to tame her, to claim her, but hers is not a body that can be owned.

When men come to blows, when they get territorial and wage war, she is neutral. She carries her own laws. Her own set of rules.

Many have loved her. Lucky men think she favours them, others curse her for toying with them. Neither are right, for they mean nothing to her.

She can be calm. She can be stormy. She can sink both sides of a war, but it is nothing personal. The quarrels of men mean nothing to the sea.

via Daily Prompt: Territory

Doors

They met for a drink in a rooftop bar. He wore red and she wore blue and the night moved faster than usual.

She invited for dinner the following Tuesday to her flat with the midnight blue door. They sat in a kitchen she’d painted to look like the sky and for desert she served blueberry shortcake.

The next week she knocked on his crimson door and he returned the favour. He made bolognese, they drank Merlot and made plans for their next date.

A year later she moved in to his house and they painted the front door purple.

via Daily Prompt: Purple

What the Minimalist Kept

Her grandfather was a simple man, a minimalist.

Minimal furniture meant minimal places to sit, which meant minimal guests. Minimal guests meant minimal noise and mess. He kept what was functional and said what was necessary. His books came from the library so they could be returned and didn’t take up space.

When he died, she cleared out his house and found the only thing the minimalist had kept. A small, red box hidden inside the hollowed-out seat of his chair contained a photograph of her young grandfather standing in a colourful, cluttered room next to a beautifully messy woman.

via Daily Prompt: Minimal

Conquered Jungles

Nature sends storms and man builds shelter. At first he uses Nature to build and then, over time,  creates his own materials. Concrete Jungles conquer the real ones and Man harnesses Nature. He takes the animal features he most desires and paves over wilderness. He creates light when Nature is dark and travels further than he can walk.

Things begin to die. Nature waits. She is playing a long game and watches Mankind tear themselves apart. When they are gone Nature’s green fingers grow through cracks in the concrete.

She cannot be harnessed, tamed or conquered. And she will endure.

via Daily Prompt: Conquer

Paparazzi

Lights flash in the dark. There is a deep, thunderous rumble. Insults rain down. The media storm has hit.

She covers her face and hurries to the cab. The driver hits some of paparazzi with the door as he opens it for her. He speeds away before she has fastened her seat belt. He is used to this, this is LA.

He sees her trying not to cry and feels a twist of sympathy. It’s easy for a person to get lost inside controversy.

He wonders if the man she slept with is getting the same treatment. He doubts it.

 

via Daily Prompt: Controversy

Luck in Love

Luck turned to Fate and said, “What should I do?”

“Whatever you want,” Fate smiled because she knew already. Luck took Fate’s hand and a man missed his train. He cursed them both and sat to wait for the next one. Luck smiled at Fate and a gust of wind blew a ticket from a woman’s lap. It came to rest under the bench of a man who’d missed his train.

He retrieved it, she thanked him. Her train pulled in to the station and he was glad he’d missed his. Fate kissed Luck and they boarded the train together.

via Daily Prompt: Luck

A Glass Heart

He shattered her heart. Shards of it crunched under his boots as he left. She tried to pick it up, piece it back together, but every time she touched it she bled.

There was glass in her skin and splinters of anger in her pain. The floor trembled and pieces of her heart rose with her rage. She sent them to find him, like a plague of angry locusts, a swarm of broken dreams come to claw at his skin.

He bled a little. She bled far more.

And still he did not love her.

via Daily Prompt: Swarm