Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

A quote: “Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.” ~~ Stephen King

I’ll start with a story …



Ten minutes to closing a new customer comes in the shop. Why am I always so lucky? This means I close late, cashout and prepare bank deposit late. Change in the back into my party clothes even later.

I glare through the shelves of Halloween kitsch trying to will the customer to hurry up already!

She glides to my counter (glides?) “Really, dear. Every year the same thing. I need you to listen and to stay right here.”

No, I need to leave. Now. NEED.

The white face with crushed skull and wearing my bloodied party clothes is mine.


Now, it’s your turn.

featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license

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  • Sheila Garrett says:

    She got off the elevator and the woman was standing before the nursery door.

    “Can I help you?”

    The woman only half-way turns her head. She looks bewildered. “I – I can’t find…” Her voice trails off.

    A moment later, the woman steps through the door, although it’s still closed. They’ve tried to explain to her that her children went home years ago; even told her she died of pneumonia she caught during Katrina; but still Rachel seeks her lost children.

  • Navig8r says:

    This is your much bigger sister.

    As exhibit A, I remind you of what happened to you when you put the frog down my back.

    As exhibit B, I remind you of what happened when you put bubblegum in my hair.

    As exhibit C, I remind you of what happened when you did the shoe polish on the telephone trick when you then called me and spoke very softly.

    So, if you do not immediately open this door and let me in the bathroom, not only will you write the book on regret, the movie will be epic.

    Choose wisely.

  • cold pizza says:

    Amanda stands at the other side of the door from me; the room shrouded in shadow. She stares straight ahead, as though a window and not two inches of steel separated us. I can feel each heavy breath she draws, raspy with exertion and exhaustion.

    “Paranoid schizophrenia,” the court-ordered shrink said at the trial. “Imminent danger to herself and the community.”

    They lock her up here.

    I want to slam myself against the door, busting it open, freeing her.

    Amanda didn’t kill those people at the park.

    I can feel myself fading into nebulous darkness as her medication kicks in.

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