Free Writing Fridays
#014 Your 100 Word Story
Let’s get this weekend write-life started! Write whatever sparks joy for you.
Here’s how:
Exactly 100 words. Not 99 or 101. The Word Count Police are tracking!
Genre? Writer’s choice! So long as you give us all the thrills and the feels.
To Fic or to Non-Fic? You decide. What matters most is that you’re satisfied with the output.
Copy/paste your words in the comments, then share on your own Substack, and maybe, share to social media!
A Note on Substack Notes | Click the 🔄 “Restack with a Note” and copy/paste your story for added reach and growth.
REMINDER: You don’t have to write your story just on Fridays! Take this sentiment and free write all weekend long!
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Dust…
Old bales of grey hay
(mould dust)
scattered logs, branches, leaves
(sawn dust)
broken machines, a freezer
oak beams by eight
(bought in-situ dust)
tiny shoes, children’s clothes
filled suitcases, boxes
school books and accounts
(memories dust)
old beds, old doors
boards from old floors
empty jars, pots of paint
excuse me a minute I think I might faint,
breathe in — breathe out
the half skeleton you see has a snout
ignore the snake skin curled in a corner
the walnut shells left by secret hoarders
don’t look, just do
it’s all just dust
of years passed before you.
The summons went out for the deceased Theodopolous Anderson.
Disturbed by this interruption in his deathly repose, he did his duty, bound in a tattered death shroud and cradling his jaw from dropping to the floor when loosening his chinstrap while giving evidence.
Once completed, the Priests advised his spirit would wander and not find peace, so the court decided to keep Theodopolous busy. They favoured the task of weaving sand into rope.
Theodopolous looked aghast at such an infringement of his rights. He appealed and won his case.
Death by gallows, for a second time, at Bracken House gaol.