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Every story published in 100 Word Fiction. Search by title, author, or a half-remembered phrase; filter by year, tag, or contributor.
Showing 18 of 81 stories
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Liminal
Liminal The whoosh-whoosh eclipses our still apartment. My weather app announces a cloudless sky, a quiet mind, but still: a windy whoosh-whoosh.“Is that you?” My husband’s head swivels from me to the ice maker. We…
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The Vine That Strangled the South
The day the kudzu cut the power, Adeline shrugged and carried her ledger to the sweltering porch, because another Wal-Mart had opened in Magnolia County, the family general store had suffered its worst month in 48…
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After the Funerals, the Dancers Speak
You and I will soon escape from our dirt-encased homes. Bone will show through the wound from your car accident, while my lungs will still bear the marks of that fatal tumour. Free now, we will climb over the…
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Reality Isn't Like on the Telly
It seemed simple. A walk down by the river; I'd drop behind slightly, pick up a rock. One swift blow, then back to my car and across country. No-one knew I was here. It wasn't like that. Evolution knows. That…
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Baggage Claim
Daily, she haunted the airport from first light till hunched men spun floors clean, circling circling carousels at baggage claim, shoulders shouldered by hurried travelers, searching each face for… her, lifting, like…
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The Undertow
Each month, the smear of first blood pulled me back, the undertow beneath my days. I kicked against the current, my head dipping below the surface in the fight against the memory of Zoe.I had been one of four…
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Shadowcasting
Marcus fell in love with an Algerian girl named Raina. They never spoke to one another. Raina mended clothing for small sums. In the evenings Marcus tore holes in his shirts with a metal toothpick. In the mornings he…
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Life Cycles
In the matter of wintering birds: consider Barnacle geese, who make their homes and families in cliffside nests. The barnacle gosling is full of tiny organs, like a tiny heart (full), or a tiny stomach (empty). The…
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Gosling Math
Helen had stolen a chicken. She ran now through an open field, bird in hand. At 80 meters, all things considered, (gravity, wind, migrational patterns of barnacle geese) the bullet would have a 2.3765% chance of hitting…
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Pranks Are Cancer
They loved pulling pranks, cruel ones, the kind that blurred the lines between laughter and pain. So when the doctor called, he answered and heard the prognosis: cured. Smiling, he told her the opposite. Screaming, she…
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Contemplations from My 90-year-old Dad
There’s no graceful way to ease out of this world. Water floods the walls around the heart. Breathing is labored. Kidneys refuse to function. Doctors shake their heads. Say you’re in a pickle. You know. By the way you…
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Like Cats and Dogs
Not raining. Fighting. Max thinks everyone is his best friend. Toby thinks Max is stupid. You know who is who. Max is lying beside me in the recliner. Minding his own business (for once). Toby, who has apparently…
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The Bed
The small, sunlit bedroom once filled with love, we shared passion, silence, refuge from the world. That bed held memories both tender and raw. Our relationship burned in the late summer’s heat. By autumn, I returned…
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Chocolate Brownies
My mother always made brownies the day after it happened. It was the only time she baked, her way of apologizing, I guess. She refilled a container with them as we stepped over the crate of empty bottles, wine stain on…
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His Finest Hour
His handgun out before him, the gunman ordered, “Give me your wallet or I'll blow your head off.” “Go ahead” The victim said. “I’m dying of cancer and I don’t want my family to have to go through…
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One Line
The tire blows in the loading zone. A rider weeps into his phone, leaves one star, vanishes. My girlfriend says enough. The line goes dead.I walk to the library. Chairs are damp. Tall windows hold the grey. Paper smell…
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Measure
We lived on coins, counting pennies and nickels before walking to the Episcopal Church off Locust Street for supper. There was joy in dropping our last quarter into the coffee can for the poor, trusting something would…
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Ghostlight
The ghostlight flickered with each pass on the catwalk above. Theatre workers swore they felt an entity at the precise spot where Fritz Kreider plunged to his death inspecting construction in 1895. Impresarios don’t…