Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

A quote: “We are stubborn, self-destructive conformists. Any other view of our species is just a self-congratulatory delusion.” ~~ Michael Crichton

I’ll start with a story …


I love my little sister more than I loathe costume parties and she talks me into attending hers along with 30 of her friends crammed into the 4th floor walkup.

“I won’t wear a costume!” I swore in my best bigbro voice.

Now I’m nursing a bourbon and wearing pirate hat.

Suddenly, that woman. The one that doesn’t fit sis’s usual crowd. Her dark eyes sparkling into mine, voice soft and everything falls away.

A scream distracts me then hands on my shirt, pulling. Confused I’m standing on the edge of the window sill and …

The woman is gone.


Now, it’s your turn.
. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock, standard license.

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  • Andrew says:

    I worked at the soup kitchen for two weeks. The patrons there were nuts, always going on about aliens and the government and the media. Someone there secretly put a pair of sunglasses in my backpack.

    Last week the soup kitchen was shut down. The whole neighborhood bulldozed, utterly destroyed. Yesterday I put on the glasses. “What’s wrong?” my wife said.

    Today I’m on the run. Every sign says “Obey,” but at least I can see.

  • Tim Mitcham says:

    I want to be the first “They” Prime Minister of Canada. I’m Justin Trudeau, and I approve this message

  • Brian Brandt says:

    The economy is tough. After dad left mom struggled to make ends meet. In spite of what the Republicans say there are no more jobs here in the Coal Belt. Her bar-tending job outside the mine entrance is gone, just like the miners. Green economy.

    At least I can forget for a while at the Cumberland ComixCon. I camped in front of the auditorium overnight with Tommy. His mom is in the same fix as mine. There’s a rumor that she’s been cruising bars and picking up guys for money. I don’t know about that. Mom told me that if we pray real hard we’ll get through.

    Ah, the doors are finally open. And there’s some kind of weird Mexican Day-of-the-Dead . . . .Mom!

  • Between the new snow and the sound of the diesel generator, they couldn’t hear our stealthy approach. The anonymous tip reported a woodburning stove, and I’d been prepared to let them off with a warning – I’m sympathetic, I understand how cold can feel – but a generator! We can’t pretend that’s a minor offense. For this, they must go to the federal courthouse.

    It’s a quick bust and we have them marching down the road to Little Rock. Harsh, but necessary. The science is settled; we must not overheat the climate. The July snows swirl around us as we march on.

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