300 word or less stories

[Fairytat]

199

The clacking of knitting
Needles lures me from sleep
And I open my eyes reluctantly.
She sits in the corner of my room,
Gently rocking, thin
shafts of silver light flashing
in endless rhythm, a wisp of
White hair lying against her pink
Cardigan sweater.

The same sweater she made
while I was recovering from pneumonia
last fall. I remember the large
pink cabbage roses flopping on my face
when she checked my temperature with the back
Of her hand like Mother used to do.

I guess she didn't trust the new-fangled inventions
(she would be embarrassed as a modern woman
to use such an archaic term but I know that's what
she whispered beneath her breath) to monitor
my health effectively. Like the doctors would try and
kill me after working so hard to save my life.
But she has no one else to worry and look after
So I allow her these small idiosyncrasies.

I stare and wonder what she is knitting now,
But it's too much for my strained eyesight to determine
So I float back towards the in between heaven and hell.
I discover three days later what she wove so diligently;
My burial shroud.

 

[wildsweetone]

wow

MW thank you for beginning this thread. I love watching it evolve.

 

[MysteryWriter]

you are most welcome..

it is fun watching the stories evolve in it. thank you for contributing to it. Also thanks to all the others. I am enjoying the stories tremendously.

When I read the ones by jewel box and fairtat I though I was reading something I had written. That may not be a compliment to you but I surely did enjoy them.

 

[MysteryWriter]

299

When she tripped into me, I knew she was trouble. I would have been suspicious even if I hadn’t been carrying 2 mil worth of cut, polished, and graded diamonds. The Diamonds and I were headed for a jewelry manufacturer in Indiana.

“Excuse me sir, I am sorry.” The woman said it as she tried to right herself in the crowded truckstop.

“That is quite alright young lady,” I replied.

“If I am forgiven, could I share your table. This place is a zoo.”

“Sure,” I waited till she was seated before I asked. “If this place is a zoo what kind of animal are you?”

Without a second’s thought she said, “Lioness.”

“I guess that makes you dangerous?”

“Only when I am hungry or horny. At the moment I just need coffee to stay awake.”

She had made me smile and put me at ease. She was good. Over the years I had been the victim of two attempted robberies. I had managed to thwart both of them. It looked as though a third was in progress.

I decided to play along. I couldn’t do much else. “So give me a couple of days notice before you get hungry so I can get out of town.”

“How about horny?”

“Oh, I will take my chances on that one. I have been eaten before and survived.”

“You do know the way to a woman’s heart.”

“No, what is the way to a woman’s heart?”

“No, it wasn’t a question. It was a statement. The way to a woman’s heart is sexual humor. If you are confident enough to laugh about sex, then you are most likely good at it

I don’t know if I was surprised or shocked, when she stood, then walked away never to be seen again.

 

[MysteryWriter]

289

The rain pounded me as it soaked me to the skin. I looked beside me to see that Lara had faired no better. Our teeth chattered from the cold as I led her quickly into the apartment. My apartment was over what had once been a carriage house. I stood her over the giant heat register in the hallway.

She stood shivering as I removed the worst of the water from her hair. She stood perfectly still as I popped her blouse buttons one at a time. The soaked garment hit the floor behind her a second before I unhooked her bra. Her breasts, though not large, were well formed. They glowed pink from the brisk rub with a rough towel. Her jeans were harder to peel from her damp body. They finally gave way before my onslaught.

When she stood completely naked over the blowing heat, I removed my own clothes. She helped with giggles now and again. The giggles turn to gasps as I kissed her breasts then her tummy. She moaned softly as I dropped to my knees to worship her body. I felt her move against me. Her knees seemed to be weak as I held her body open for the kisses I showered on her.

Her hands pulled my head to her body as she rocked uncontrollably. With almost desperation she pulled me toward the bed.

At thatvery moment the front door shook. “Open up Deacon, I know you are there. Your mother and I drove all day just to come see you.”

“Oh fuck,” Lara said with a giggle. “Are we never going to get this done.”

“It has only been six months,” I said laughing. Hell it was either laugh or cry.

 

[wildsweetone]

300

Dust flew up behind him as his black convertible sped over the metal road. 15 minutes later he came to the crossroads she'd mentioned. Turning left he soon found himself outside the Inn.

Jumping out he took the steps two at a time, entered and walked to the registry desk.

"Room booking for Smith please."

The clerk looked him over, shaking his head at his lack of luggage; he checked the registry book and handed over a set of keys to room 19.

"Would you like anything else, Sir?" the clerk asked.

"No thanks. That’s all for now."

As he opened the door to his room, he listened. Soft music played through the hallway. Smiling he entered his room, closing the door behind him.

He relaxed, stretching his long lean body out on the bed. With his hands behind his head, he lay thinking about her. They'd met on the net. Playing backgammon of all things. Chatting for hours they eventually swapped pictures. They became as close as two people could get without physically touching. He could hardly wait to meet her.

Remembering the loving warmth in her voice on the phone, and her caring attitude when he most needed a shoulder to lean on, he knew he had fallen in love with her. Now all he needed to do was see if she felt the same.

She arrived later that afternoon. When he opened his door she greeted him with a beautiful smile. She walked past him, her rose scent floating in the air around him.

He closed the door and walked to where she waited. Only a moment of uncertainty stood between them. Then, smiling, they walked into each other’s arms.

She held him close. Lifting her head, looking deep into his eyes, she whispered, "I love you."

 

[MysteryWriter]

300

Every curtain in the cream colored house was pulled tight. It seemed only right after her death. My wife had died in child birth only three days before. Death during child birth I learned was all too common. If I had known that it was possible, I might have been more careful. One minute Maggie was alive the next she was gone.

The doctors could save neither mother nor child. It was such a waste. I was still very much under the influence of the drugs the doctor gave me. I washed them down with a good ten year old bourbon. I knew it was dangerous but I just didn’t care.

I answered the knock on the door. I blinked then rubbed my bloodshot eyes. “Maggie?” I felt faint.

“God John, you are white as a sheet. I am not Maggie. I am Lucille. I am Maggie’s younger sister. I came to take care of you.”

“You what?”

“Maggie wrote me almost a year ago. She said you could never be alone. I was to come take care of you, if anything happened to her.”

“But I don’t know any of Maggie’s family.” I was struggling to make sense of it all.
“How long has it been since you bathed?”

“Before it happened.”

“Get out of those clothes. You are going to clean up, then you are going to eat a good meal. Tomorrow morning you start working your farm again. Now off you go. I will bring the hot water.”

I was not too drunk to notice that Lucille was very attractive. I was ashamed of the thoughts running through my mind. Since I had hope for the first time since Maggie left me, I didn’t question them. Not even when I saw her slip on Maggie’s wedding ring.

 

[wildsweetone]

300 words

I looked up at Harry as he walked by my desk, his black briefcase in one hand, rye sandwich in the other.

"Hi Harry, nice lunch," I grinned.

"Thanks," he mumbled his face full of food. The hot look in his eyes stopped me grinning.

He was a guy who showed an outward appearance of being completely in control, most of the time. Looking at the mayo dripping down his chin, watching him crash into the boss's secretary, dropping his briefcase and papers scattering all over the show, you wouldn't believe any control was there. I knew differently.

Two weeks ago he’d asked me to partner him for the evening at a dinner and dance the company put on, without hesitation I'd accepted. He'd let his hair down, relaxed and had been great company. Perfect mealtime manners and a good sense of rhythm made the evening enjoyable.

He'd taken me home in his Jag, parking outside my apartment. Turning, he'd kissed me lightly. Mellowed out from the amount of drink I'd consumed, I kissed him back and my hands had started wandering of their own accord, slipping inside his shirt, finding and teasing his tiny nipples as the kiss deepened. The heat inside the car increased quickly. It took a mountain of control for him to stop, but stop he did.

He'd walked me to my front door. Kissing me hard and brief, he'd smiled and gone back to his car to drive off into the night.

Watching the klutz in action in front of me, it took all my control not to run to his aide, not to kiss the mayo off his chin, not to grab him by the hair and find an empty office with a lock on the door.

Then again, what harm could it do?

 

[MysteryWriter]

congtrats wso

Now that is a complete short short story ... congradulations

 

[wildsweetone]

300 words

"Damnit! You bitch of a cat!" I screamed and dropped him. Blood poured as I ran to the kitchen sink. "You ungrateful little wretch!" I scowled

"Hey girl! What's all the racket about? I heard you over the lawnmower!" My neighbour walked in through the slider, grabbed my hand, and looked closely at my finger.

"A little thing like this, and you made all that noise? It's no bigger than a pinhead," he scoffed.

"That pinhead went through my finger!" I growled.

"It's only a little scratch. Here let me kiss it better." His head swooped down and he kissed my finger gently. "Uh oh. More blood." Before I could pull my hand away, he put my finger into his mouth and sucked. Looking up at me he grinned, my finger still in his mouth. I yanked my finger away.

"Hey, I was only helping." I turned away, running my finger under the tap.

"I can fix my own finger," I growled.

"Yeah right. I'd like to see you try to put a sticky on that one-handed."

I grabbed a plaster from the cupboard and stuck it onto my finger. It looked daft, but there was no way I was willing to let him touch it again.

"I have some news for you," that grin was back.

"It better be good," I grumbled.

"Oh it's great. I'm going to be a daddy!"

"Congratulations!" Happy for him I smiled. Then I stopped, saying "Oh god, that means a little one of you will be walking around."

"Very funny. I'll make sure he doesn't come to see his Aunty who tortures her cat," the wink was powerful. We chatted a little longer, then he waved and I watched him saunter off and finish his lawn mowing.

His wife is one lucky woman.

 

[wildsweetone]

Just saw your comments on "Harry" MW. Thank you that was nice.

 

[wildsweetone]

295 words

I walked along the path feeling the evening breeze cool on my skin. Here and there house lights were on, most glowed in the gaps between the curtains or blinds.

As I walked, I cleared my mind of the day’s happenings. This is 'me' time. Time when I think of nothing in particular, nothing at all. Time when I walk and smell freshly cut lawns; time when I watch the stars.

Music beat from one house, a TV sports channel from another. Still I walked.

I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. I looked behind me, nothing. The street lamps came on, a slow glow at first. There was a blown one a little further down the path. I didn't feel very comfortable any more. I walked a little faster.

The group of bushes rustled and I kept walking. A hand grabbed my arm; another closed over my mouth. I couldn't scream, couldn't cry out for help. I was dragged backwards, into the bush. Laid on the ground face down as something was shoved into my mouth and tied behind my head.

Roughly I was turned over. My terror reflected in black eyes. A hand reached down and lifted my skirt. I squirmed, kicking out, trying to push him off. Not succeeding. His hand slid inside my panties and began slowly caressing. Through my fright I felt pleasure.

The caressing continued, slow circles rubbing. With one finger slipping inside, I closed my eyes. My moan was muffled against the gag. My orgasm was full and fast.

He left me like that. I stood, straightening my clothes, taking off the gag and walked back home.

The bright lights greeted me. So did my husband.

"Did your birthday turn out eventful after all darling?"

 

[Fairytat]

Re: you are most welcome..

it is fun watching the stories evolve in it. thank you for contributing to it. Also thanks to all the others. I am enjoying the stories tremendously.

When I read the ones by jewel box and fairtat I though I was reading something I had written. That may not be a compliment to you but I surely did enjoy them.

I will take that as a compliment. Thank you

 

[jewelbox]

Mesage for MW

My aren't we the arrogant little fellow. He might interest you to know that I am a better writer than you. I was born a better writer than you. Unlike you I work at writing and I take pride in my work ethic.

You on the other hand take pride in your lake of one. You aren't really even talented. You are a hack. I can't even get through your stories. Frankly they bore me to tears.

Rofl hope you enjoyed this little reality check.

 

[MysteryWriter]

thank you Jewel

A) You probably are a better writer...

(B) You probably don’t make the lack/lake mistake often, or the it/he, one either.

(C) So in the spirit of my new nice guy approach thank you for explaining this to me.A) You probably are a better writer...

(B) You probably don’t make the lack/lake mistake often, or the it/he, one either.

(C) So in the spirit of my new nice guy approach thank you for explaining this to me.

 

[wildsweetone]

298 words

The group sat quietly, unmoving, listening. The storyteller closed his eyes and began his tale. I moved away.

A book lay unopened behind me. It looked as if nobody had read from it for some months. I picked it up, opened it. A damp musty smell emanated from the pages. I turned a few over holding them gingerly. They held the words of lots of stories. Some only a page or two, others longer.

I stopped at one page and read,

'He lay asleep naked on the river's edge. His chest moved slowly as he slept deeply. His toe twitched as an insect landed. It flew off leaving a tiny drop of blood in its wake. The water rippled as it flowed over a slimy rock. The sun leaving bright splotches on his body as it shone between the leaves, warmed his body. He stirred, turning in his sleep. His eyes opened and he lay watching me.'

Startled, I dropped the book back on to the table. I glanced over at the group and found their eyes in my direction. The eyes of the storyteller were the same eyes that had watched me from the pages of the book. I knew he'd written it. I wanted to know more.

I moved toward the group, sat amongst them and listened.

He smiled and went on with his story. His voice mesmerised me. I was walking his tale, seeing his sights, feeling his touch. My whole being was his to take on his travels. Though our distance was short, we traversed it well, every detail etched on my mind. He brought me back slowly. When I opened my eyes, he had gone. The feelings he gifted me with remained in my life.

Such is the beauty of a good storyteller.

 

[jewelbox]

Top This

The magician took my hand. He lifted me from the low convertible then guided me down the path into the small wooded area. He took me to an opening in the trees behind an abandoned power dam. The water poured over the top creating a beautiful manmade water fall. The sight, sound and feel of the place enchanted me.

He pushed me forward onto a large rock. He slipped a business card into the pocket of my western shirt. The lone fisherman looked up and smiled as though he knew what would happen next. I did not. I was trembling with anticipation. I could smell his body scents as he stood behind me.

The magician’s arms suddenly wrapped around me. He covered each of my breasts with a hand. He massaged me gently. Then he ran his hand over my hard nipples. I could feel them as though there was no fabric between us.

My head leaned back against him and my mouth opened. I breathed a deep sigh as he moved his hands lower. First working the shirt from my jeans, then opening the snap on them. He lowered the zipper only enough to insert his hand. His experienced fingers went immediately to my clit. He rubbed and massaged it for a long time. The pressure built inside me. I closed my eyes then with my body jerking, I had a long slow orgasm. It might not have been a giant thing but it was satisfying.

I opened my eyes. I looked out the rear window into my yard. I was just shaken enough to reach into my pocket. I had no idea what, if anything, I would find. The card I removed read simply MAGICGAME.

I smiled as I returned the card to my pocket.

 

[wildsweetone]

296 words

A red skipping rope lay on the concrete driveway. I looked at it in dismay. Laying there meant nobody was home. Walking past that rope was a difficult task, but I did it.

Under the arch, into the enclosed garden I walked. Looking at the house I could see it was empty. All the ground floor windows were closed, the front door shut. I went up the two steps, knocked and waited.

The garden was beautiful, she'd put so much work into it. It flowed from one plant, one tree, to the next. Blues, purples, pinks, greens. Serenity abounded.

"It's a lovely garden," a voice whispered behind me.

I spun around, the unexpected sight of him blocking all thoughts. I hadn't seen him for years. In my mind I'd believed he'd left or died. Seeing him now simply disarmed me.

"You do recognise me then," he commented. "Come in, we have much to discuss." He took my hand, walking with me into the darkness of the house. He led me into the kitchen, the brightness making me squint for a moment.

"Please relax. Sit and let's just enjoy each other's company while we have this chance," he gestured towards the stool.

I sat still, wary of him as he sat opposite me. He reached toward me, my arms had already extended themselves. His hands were warm as he held mine.

My eyes closed and he took me to a place no other had seen. Up high in the snowy mountains, perching on the edge of rocks. Complete silence enveloping us, privacy. Time was non-existent, we were as one.

Shouting and banging, familiar family noises had woken me. Blinking at this abrupt wrenching from peace to chaos, I looked at her.

"I see he returned," she smiled.

 

[MysteryWriter]

298

“Hey Sam, what the hell you doing,” Cindy was looking down at my laptop as she spoke.

“I am trying to figure out how the hell to get this broad to go down on this other broad.”

“Oh Geese, you writing porn again?”

“Rent is due tomorrow. You know how it is hon.”

“No, I don’t Sam. I work for a living and you might try it to. You can even have your old bartending job back.”

“No thanks hon. You can never go home again.”

“You should be doing that at home.”

“Are you kidding? The atmosphere here is perfect for sleeze.”

“You know who you should talk to about your problem?”

“Who?”

“Emily, she has made more dykes than God.”

“Now, what does that mean?”

“If Emily can’t turn a woman on, nobody can. She is due in shortly. Ask her how she does it.”

Emily showed up after dark. She had the required blonde bimbo on her arm.

“Cindy tells me. You want to know how to pick up chicks.”

I never offered her the chair she took.

“No, just how a woman convinces another woman to go down on her.”

“I suppose you mean a virgin. Most times a sister either wants to or not. The virgins are a different matter.”

“Okay, how about the virgin?”

I do it exactly like you would champ. I romance them a little, then I get a little pushy. I kind of do my domme les slut bit. It don’t work every time, but then we all know that going in. When you are a scalp hunter like us, you pays your dollar and you takes your shot. Just write it like I was you and you will be fine. Got the lady waiting.” She winked as she turned.

 

[wildsweetone]

oh golly MW you're breaking out! a wink at the end???

now i know i've only looked maybe 100 times, but not 606! who's doin' all the peekin? quit reading and join in if you dare.

 

[MysteryWriter]

not much chance

If you read all the arguements from the previous thread, I think you will see why so few people want to write here. Nobody much thinks we are writing stories. Even if they have all the elements of a short story, somehow we are outcasts rofl... Personally I like being an outcast. Fits right into the image of myself as the rebel writer.

The gunslinger with a pen kind of thing. Shoot from the hip. Throw a lot of lead. Hope you hit someone.

Anyway I would love to see more people writing here, but it is not likely to happen. You and I shall struggle on with our little band of heros. Defying convention and daring to be different. I think I hear the theme from the Magnificent Seven, Dum dumdy dum.

 

[Emmah]

247 words

I moved into the studio apartment on Wednesday and found the video on Friday. It was taped behind the john and the only reason I saw it was because I had dropped my bracelet. I played the tape on Saturday.

The TV was one of those cheap jobs with a built in VCR. I popped the tape in and the first thing I realized was that I was looking at the room I was in. It was completely empty except for the crummy blinds, and the woman who was sitting on a chair in the corner, nude. She looked like a thirty five year old who had done an extra ten years of living. She was well fleshed but put together in an enviable well-balanced package.

I flinched as she did when the door slammed off camera. A resonant voice echoed against the bare walls, “What did I tell you about being ready?” The man came into view. He was young, bare-chested, and moved with sinuous grace. He took her conical breast in his hand and bent to whisper in her ear. She said, “Please…please…” I couldn’t tell if it was “Please…yes” or “please…no.”

He stood before her and said, “Do it…now.” She stood up slowly, as if she had been sitting a long time. She took a stance with her arms out wide and her head back. Her eyes slowly closed. He was reaching for something out of camera range as the screen turned to snow.

 

[wildsweetone]

298 words

With only one customer ahead of me in the queue, it wasn't a long wait to get to the counter. I looked around at the other people in the bank.

The lady in front of me wore an outrageous outfit. Bright coloured blowsy blouse and tight as white trousers. Her make up looked like she'd put it on with one of those cement trowels, very thick but successfully filling the cracks in her face.

A man stood at one teller's box. His leather jacket was on the floor at his feet. He and the teller were speaking quite loudly, discussing his personal account. He was very tall, and he spent most of the conversation looking at her computer screen.

The queue moved up, someone came in behind me.

The weirdo lady shouted out from her place at the counter, "Gidday Steve, how's things?"

"I'm Dennis," he answered. "Things are fine here."

The weird lady went to chat with Dennis so I moved up to the counter. I handed over my little bag of money and asked the teller to deposit it into my husband's visa account. I looked across at the loud speaking man. His teller packed up his books and handed them to him.

"Thanks very much," he boomed.

With my banking finished too, I went to leave the building. Reaching for the handle to pull the door open, I stopped as another hand covered mine.

"That's my job, little lady," he looked down at me.

"But..." I stammered.

"No buts," he smiled, leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth.

Surprised, I thanked him and walked through the door towards my car. I glanced back.

He carried his jacket over one arm; his white stick was firmly in front tapping the sides of his pathway.

 

[mlyn]

You all should submit as FLASH Fiction

A lot of sites are looking for Flash fiction, a lot of it erotic. I wrote 2 flash stories, but I'm afraid I'm better at the 20,000 + word stories.

Good luck! m.

 

[KillerMuffin]

Oh jeeeezus pretzels, MW. If that isn't the height of ridiculous arrogance I don't know what is. You are not an outcast. You are not being persecuted because you think you're rebelling against the powers that be. You are simply clueless about what a short story is and what it is not. You know why you can't submit flash fiction here? Because no one wants to read it. Why does no one want to read it? Because you can't get off to it. Hell, my one non-erotic story has less reads than my latest poem and it's been up for a year now. It even has sex in it.

You aren't being persecuted, you just don't bother to target your audience and you believe that you are above such mundane things as spelling correctly and using proper grammar. You aren't a martyr to the short story cause. Get over yourself.