Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Time to exercise your muse! Using this image as inspiration, write a story of 100 words and post in the comments. We’ll start first.

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It wasn’t much of a hidey-hole. At the end Sarah and the kids were almost shadows of their former selves.

He didn’t share with them what he had heard in the dark of the night brought to him across unknown distances. He only insisted on their silence and everything kept in the dark. They crept about like skittish kittens, keeping counsel with themselves in the shadows.

Yet, the quiet – first sinister, then comforting, now yearning. He stared over the landscape towards the sunset and pondered.

First 40 days, 40 nights. Then 150 more days.

It was time. Light the light.

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Now, it is your turn.

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3 Comments
  • JibberJabber says:

    Your voice is a bewitching sound.
    I follow you. I leave the shore.
    I’m in too deep and still want more.
    The waves come crashing all around.
    The sirens sing entrancing lore.
    You want me here forevermore.
    You pull me in. You pull me down.

    Each step I take, you take in turn.
    Chase the dark and shadows chase you.
    There is no light that passes through.
    Once you’re too far you can’t return.
    I sense the fear but love the view.
    It’s all a lie but feels so true.
    I follow you. I never learn.

  • Tagmec says:

    She raised her fists, skinny arms trembling. “Who are you? Where is this?”

    The old man ignored her, shuffled across the bare concrete. “Generator,” his crow’s voice croaked over the machine’s noise. Gnarled finger pointing at a dial. “Needle in the green.” He turned and shambled toward the foot of the stairs spiraling up the wall. “Up here.”

    Door in the wall, no handle. Old man limping up the stairs. Curiosity beat out fear. She followed.

    On the platform above the light was slowly turning. Orange sunset on the water – water everywhere. “Must keep it lit,” the old man said.

  • Steven Fletcher says:

    The old man motioned, “This is your bunk. You’ll live here for the next diurne. Then your bunk will go to some other green kid traveling from Earth for the first time.”

    Garret dismissed the man with the wave of his hand. “I read the brochure. I know what to expect.”

    “Ah kid, nobody knows what to expect on a planet of seas, with the sky always red, and the only land mass this island. But the ships come for the fuel – to these waters that aren’t really water.”

    With that he left, and Garrett was on his own.

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