Veterans Day, 2018

Karen blew warm air into her hands and looked up at the turret windows. According to survivor accounts, one of them was supposedly the hiding spot of the German sniper who had killed her great grandfather in the “war to end all wars.” She’d planned the trip for over a year, expected it to be overwhelming. It wasn’t. Instead, she felt pride. Her grandfather, in full military regalia, like the picture on her living room mantle, appeared before her. She smiled, put a hand over her heart, stood taller, and whispered, “I’ll never forget, grandpa. I’ll never forget.”

She Must Be Crazy--a 100-word story

He sat on the fence post every Sunday, preaching even when no one was nearby.

She watched him through a rear window. A grimace embraced her face followed by a somber head-shake.

He swiveled his head from side to side, stared at the window, thought he saw a face, tilted his head back, as if his words might carry farther with an upward arch.

She approached, her face menacing, vicious.

He wagged his finger, spewed more vitriol.

She offered her own finger, told him to not return or else.

He slithered off his perch never to be seen again.

Stalemate

This first appeared in A Story in 100 Words.

Zach’s eyes followed the dirt path as it blended into the trees. Three couples, the latest newlyweds, disappeared in the last month while strolling the serpentine lane. The townspeople wanted something done, and they expected Zach to do it. He was the sheriff, after all.

Zach glanced from side to side, saw faces—some showing fear, others glaring—waiting less patiently with every second that passed.

He rocked from side to side, his palms sweaty, hoping those standing with him would get bored or hungry and leave. The one thing he knew was he wouldn’t be the first to move.

On Vacation

On Vacation

Midnight in New York. Sounds like a song title. Until you see the body outside the theater. Lips blue. Eyes uninhabited.

Piano music leaks from inside a cafe. Laughter from another. No one stops. Except a homeless woman. She crosses herself. Pauses in silence. Moves on. Uneasy. So do you. It's how life works now.

*Prompt words: midnight, theater, piano, lips, New York

In the Distance

This story was written in response to Flash Jab Fiction’s recent drabble (a story of exactly 100 words) challenge.

Belinda paused to stare at the distant farm buildings, a refuge she hoped. The ad requested a nanny to take care of three young children. His wife a victim of cancer, he couldn’t run the farm and raise the kids alone.

The sounds of laughter put a smile on Belinda’s face. The smell of dormant fields and the bleats of sheep greeted her from afar. It seemed the perfect place to hide, to escape her own father. She inhaled a deep breath, let it out, and continued toward her new home, the gun in her purse adding to her confidence.