300 word or less stories

[wildsweetone]

The rain hadn't eased up any. I desperately wanted to collect the mail. I decided to make a dash for the letterbox. I knew I'd get wet, but it'd be easy enough to dry off when I got back inside.

There’d be no chance of ducking and diving between the drops today. Before I'd got half way I was soaked. My blouse stuck to me like another layer of skin. I lifted the lid on the letterbox and pulled out the mail. Blast, it was only junk mail again anyway.

Sooner or later that web cam would arrive. When it did, I'd have some fun.

I held the mail tight in one hand, putting the box lid down with the other. Turning I saw my neighbour standing on his balcony watching me. Quickly I looked away. I slowed my pace. I walked the long way back around the front of the house, revelling in the rain as it landed on my body. It trickled down my hair, ran down my back. My stockings were sodden. Each move felt like his hands were caressing me.

He hadn't moved. His coffee cup half raised, he stared.

I made it to the door. I unbuttoned my blouse, peeling the wet material from my body. I kicked off my shoes, slid my soaked stockings down and off. Clad in bra, skirt and panties I stepped into the house towelling myself dry.

"Did he watch this time?"

"Oh yes I reckon he did," I grinned at my husband as he pulled me close.

 

[wildsweetone]

i'd like to know...

who is actually reading these?

 

[MysteryWriter]

just me and you kid

...

 

[MysteryWriter]

They called her Sammie. She looked sadly at her thirty extra pounds as she dressed for the day. She had completed the long night without much sleep. She was looking forward to going home. She always showered after her shift. When she arrived home, it was feed the cat, then hit the bed. She was about to put on her jeans, when Mike her partner stuck his head in the bathroom door.

“A plane just hit the towers. There are going to be way too many victims. I am going to take the old unit and go down there. What do you want to do?”

“That’s a lousy joke Mike.”

“I wish it was Sammie. You don’t have to go. I am going to take all the spare bandages and get on down there. They might send me home.”

“Load the fucking truck. I will just have to put on the dirty uniform.”

“Look Sammie, I know you are getting married soon. I probably shouldn’t have even told you.”

“What Mike, you think I don’t listen to the car radio. Get a move on. Load up everything that ain’t nailed down.”

The plan they devised was out the window when they got to the towers. The second plane had hit. Hell was in session in New York City at the time. They began by treating the cuts and burns of the people who made it down. That lasted only a few minutes. They were told about all the injured who could not make it down the long stairway.

Sammie lead the way up the stair. Her fishing box was filled with bandages and antiseptic. The building shook and rumbled. The two of them were between floors when the building pancaked on top of them.

A neighbor fed Sammie’s cat.

 

[wildsweetone]

hmmm killer muffin could probably enlighten us...

 

[MysteryWriter]

misterwriter

“Who is your favorite author?” A voice from the dark ask.

“Actually I am. If any author tells you different, he is either a liar or not a very good writer.” Laughter filled the small room. I did the book circuit about once a month. My little talks had never filled a room before.

“So Mister Writer, how long have you been writing?” The voice sounded young like a student maybe. I had no idea why students would read my work. I was a simple country boy not up to college level readers. Actually, I was better than they could understand. I just wrote for a different audience.

“Well ma’am, I been a writin’ all day today.” The laughter downed out here next comment.

“So what is your next story about?” That voice came from a woman who stood so that I would recognize her.

“Oh, it is about four and a half hours ma’am.” The reference was to the fact that I only sold tapes. Hers was the final question allowed. I had the ‘pleasure’ of autographing tapes after. The older blonde lady who had asked the final question stopped with a tape.

“This can’t be yours?” I asked as I penned it.

“And why not?”

“You have way too much class.” It was a simple truth and she recognized it.

“I have a seventeen year old son with a summer job. He begs and I can’t say no.”

“Would it work for me?” I smiled my rakish smile.

“Let me put it this way mister writer. He didn’t want your autograph.”

“Cocktails, dinner, then sex?” I asked it getting down to the point.

“I expect with your writing, the best I could hope for would be a beer, a burger and a cheep motel.”

I nodded.

She smiled.

 

[wildsweetone]

152 words

Soundlessly I slipped into the 30 year old ruin. The dust my bare feet kicked up made me cough. I stifled the sound, scared of being caught.

Moving listlessly now, I headed for the rear of the building, keeping my eyes alert for danger.

"Meet me at 7pm in the ruin at the center of the city."

That's all the note said. It was crumpled in my fist now, its message smudged, unreadable.

A scuffling. I stilled.

A hand covered my mouth. I screamed. Pain as my skull hit the rough concrete wall. I slumped to the floor.

Hands grasped at my clothes, ripping the skirt from my body. Blessed oblivion as darkness claimed me.

Eventually the light returned. My bruised and battered body an awareness of life. Shakily I stood.

I straightened my burka, raised my chin and walked home. My tears hidden, my heart and body bleeding, sore. But alive.

 

[Uther_Pendragon]

Re: i'd like to know...

who is actually reading these?

:
I doon't kknow about anybody else, but I'm reading (the
new ones, at least) every day or two.
There have been some interesting stories.

 

[MysteryWriter]

damn i cant believe i wrote this...

“Max wake up. I came all the way from California to see you.” He didn’t seem to recognize her. Even if his mind were perfect, why would he. She was no more to Max than electrons.

She wondered to herself why she had waited so long to make the journey. His daughter had stuck a note on the Bulletin Board. Max had suffered his third and near fatal heart attack. Jill had decided at that moment to chuck her job and leave her rented apartment. It was time to take that road trip Max was always on about. His heart attack sent the shock through her that she needed.

At fifty-two she could still have fun. Her retirement accounts were all vested and she had a wad of dough once she sold everything. She bought the camper from a friend, then just hit the road. The three thousand mile drive took three weeks but she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Who are you?” the weak voice asked.

“Hell honey, I am Austin. Now get your ass ready, we are off to adventure.”

“Austin? Is that really you?”

“Of course it is old man. Now get you ass out of that bed and get dressed. I have places to see and you promised to show them to me.”

“Oh Austin honey, I am not really up to it.”

“Fuck you old man, you can lean on me. Don’t matter none you are damn sure coming.”

Suddenly there was the twinkle in his eye. The one she had seen on the web cam. It was the only thing left of her Max. “Why not, today is as good a day to die as any other.”

Austin burst into laughter. She laughed a lot for a while.

 

[wildsweetone]

to Uther_Pendragon

thank you for acknowledging your reading. i appreciate it.

 

[MysteryWriter]

we the writers

this thread is approaching the 2000 reader point. The writers have decided to award the 2000 reader a pair of wildsweetone's panties (Laundered or not your choice) that is if laurel will tell us who 2000 was.

 

[Lisa CJ]

Six Months to Life

I’d been in AA six months. Charlie had warned me if I didn’t get clean he would leave. For a long time I didn’t hear him. But when he walked out, I quit listening to the booze and finally heard him.
We’d met in a bar, ironically. He was twice divorced and ending a bad relationship. I’d never been married, and was not dating. Liquor was my lover.
He was easy to talk to – the first person that truly cared what I had to say. He offered advice but never came across as condescending. My love for him became as addictive as the booze, but in a positive way. He was a genuine friend and gentle lover. The booze numbed the insecurity I felt over ever losing him. Too late I realized that booze was the thing that would make me lose him.
Charlie was patient but firm about me quitting. He encouraged me to seek help, he forgave me when I tried and failed. Though it hurt like hell, I couldn’t blame him for leaving. It was the only thing that shook me up enough to get straight.
I was six months sober and proud of it. My life was finally my own.
Then Charlie walked in. He went to the podium in front of the group.
“Hi everyone. I’m Charlie, and I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi Charlie.”
“I’ve been sober for 20 years. Nine months ago I ended a relationship and found myself in a bar for the first time in two decades. I was about to have a drink and lose everything I’d worked so hard for, when I met a woman there named Erin. She was an alcoholic. She’s been sober for six months, and I am here to tell her how proud I am of her.”

 

[Lisa CJ]

Sweet Dreams...

By the way, if I happen to be the lucky 2000th reader and win the fabulous Wildchild's knickers, I feel it only right to personally deliver them to Mysterywriter in recognition of creating this raging albatross of a thread. Hmmm...Albatross...get it on a stick...

 

[wildsweetone]

260 words

Non stop screaming panic was all around me. Shoving, terrified men and women stampeding over those who'd tripped, racing for the stairs.

Human noise, everywhere.

Sirens ringing inside the building, loud inside my head. A speaker with it's monotone instructions for calmness, booming out and totally ignored. Creaking as the building bent its might against mid air. Dust seeping through apparently closed windows.

Burning, acrid smoke stung my nostrils. Water flowing freely from tear ducts.

I couldn't move. I was frozen in time. Watching.

A dusty hand grabbed my arm pulling me towards a door. He closed it behind us. Oddly, it didn’t quite fit into its frame. But we didn’t stop.

We fell to the floor ripping our clothes off, kissing deeply. My hand grabbed his hair, I didn't want to lose the warm contact. My mind blocked out the world outside the room.

His hands travelled lightly over my body before pulling me tightly against him. His entry was skilled while his slick thrust was deep. My screamless voice muffled against his tongues invasion. He pumped hard as if time was of the essence. I begged him to hurry. I begged him to hold me tight. I begged him to never leave me. His kiss softened. He opened his eyes and watched me. His thumb brushed away my tear. His movements slowed, our sex close to completion. I didn’t want it to stop, but the urge to hurry flooded me.

The orgasm hit incredibly at the same time for us both, about 10 complete seconds after the plane.

 

[MysteryWriter]

oops

“Ma’am do you know where I can buy a tire.. One of them seems to be coming apart on me.”

“Gee Mister,” the small town, gum chewing, waitress began. ”You might try Bobby’s garage down the street.”

“You can try it, but the odds are he ain’t gonna have no tire to fit it.” the old man with a mouth full of eggs, but less than a mouth full of teeth said.

“Well I am gonna have to try.” I drove the minivan to the service station two blocks away.

“I know it is a standard tire, but I ain’t got one. I can get you one tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” I asked.

“I don’t have no help today. Tomorrow my man will be here. I can go for parts then. I need other stuff anyway.”

I nodded what else could I do. He drove me to a Bed and Breakfast. That particular one was an old house with two bedrooms, which the widow rented out.

The widow was at least ten years older. She was a damn sight better looking. During dinner ignoring her grown son, I flirted with her gently. She responded the way only women can. She was polite.

Since she didn’t appear to take it seriously, I went to bed not expecting to see her. I never tire of being wrong. She slipped into my bed just before midnight. She would not allow me to speak, or turn on the light. The room was absolutely black. The sex was enjoyable, even if it was mostly oral. She gave a hell of a blowjob. I did get inside her from the rear. I found her hot and tight and very enjoyable. It was all very mysterious and sensual.

At breakfast, the son gave me a glowing smile.

 

[wildsweetone]

oh now dear, that is good!

 

[MysteryWriter]

i can only try.

It ain't he died but i did my best...

 

[wildsweetone]

hmmm

...putting thinking cap on

 

[MysteryWriter]

the wedding photographer

It had been the wedding from hell. Cameras failing, strobe lights that didn’t strobe, I was about to shoot the fucking bridegroom. Still, I had persevered long enough to get it done with a no harm no foul ending.

“Here, you need this.” It was a very attractive, middle-aged woman who handed me the plastic cup filled with whiskey sour punch.

“Sorry, I am an alcoholic, but you are right I do need it.” I took the cup but put it onto a table untouched. I expected her to turn away most people did when I told them out of the blue. It was just the mood I was in.

“Oh, so what does an alcoholic do to relieve stress?”

“Generally have sex.” I suggested with a smile.

“Really are alcoholic better at it? I mean, with all the practice.”

“Hell I don’t know. I have always been an alcoholic. I suppose you would have to ask the lover of a reformed drunk, or give it a try.”

“I suppose I should ask first.” She had a wicked grin.

“One of those safe sex people I see?.”

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Afraid to take a chance, someone who wants a detailed synopsis before she commits.”

“Well, it is true. I never took a chance before. I am wavering does that count.”

“If you are wavering, then you need another drink. I can’t believe I just said that.”

She laughed. Okay let’s take a walk to the parking lot. I noticed you have a camper. It is one of the reasons I find you attractive. A man who believes in being prepared.”

“My cousin was a boy scout. What will your fiends say, when you climb into my camper.”

“What friends, I don’t know these people.” Her laugh not ladylike.

 

[wildsweetone]

254 words

Beep, beep, beep, the countdown sounded.

"Are you sure you want one of me doing this?" I asked holding my breath. Click.

"Hell yeah, give me whatever you've got an' as many as you can."

"I can't believe I'm doin’ this. I must be insane."

Beep, beep, beep.

I took a deep breath and held it. Click.

"You're doing great babe, I want them all."

"Are you sure you want this many? I can't believe you want some of me doin’ this."

"Just do them babe, I'll love 'em all."

"OK I'm done. Give me a mo to clean up, k?"

"Sure thing lover. I'm going outside for a cigarette. I'll be back in three minutes, k?"

"OK." Frantically I rushed around putting the furniture back. I set the cam back up on top of the screen. I opened up the program and wrote down all the file numbers.

Moments later I began blushing as one by one the files were transferred across the ether.

A voice whispered into my ears, "Oh girl you are beautiful."

The blushing increased.

"Oh yeah babe, I love these. I'm going to take you home with me. I'm gonna jack-off with you tonight babe."

"God I so wish I could lay next to you and watch you doin' that."

"Mmm me too babe."

Silence as the machine continued it's transferring.

"Girl, make this the last ok? I've gotta run pick my kids up from school."

"OK" disappointment as I guessed he'd struck another notch on the edge of his keyboard.

 

[VeraGem]

On The Road

(300 words, not including the title.)

“Annie.” She pronounced it like Johnny without the J. Her delicate fingers gripped the steering wheel as if her life depended on it. “And you?”

“Jack.” His eyes shift like a flickering candle. He tossed back a greasy flap of dirty brown hair; water sprays across the leather seats.

“Where you headed Jack?”

“Just up the road – wherever.”

“Kinda like Jack Kerouac.” It was a statement, not a question. It pissed him off.

“Jack who?”

“Never mind.”

The knife seemed to lift itself out of the bag, floating on his fingertips. She caught her breath as the keen edge sliced the buttons from her blouse. He slipped the steel upward; its touch against her throat like a sliver of ice.

“Pull over, bitch. We’re gonna have us some fun”

Tires crunching gravel – a door opening; his hand twists her hair. He drags her from the car. The rain soaks her instantly; her nipples harden against the night air. He slams her into the hood, yanks up her long skirt, cuts away her panties and rams into her. She goes limp, unresisting.

He finishes quickly, spending his seed inside her violated cunt. The blade slips across her belly like a caress; she bites her lip, closes her eyes and waits, feeling his still-twitching hardness begin to shrink. He raises the knife for a killing stroke.

The weapon flashes in the moonlight – a powerful downward arc. The blow never falls. Her hand tightens on his wrist; his eyes grow wide. He screams as the bones grind and snap. Her legs hold him inside her like a vise. The last thing he feels is her hand in his hair. His last sight is the back of his jacket.

A car door opens – then closes. Tires spinning in mud. She’s back on the road.

 

[MysteryWriter]

Barney's

“Hey Sarge what you doing?”

“Making the streets safe for your mother Rookie.”

“Well Sarge, my mom is dead.” He looked real sad.

“Sorry Kid,” it was the only apology he was likely to get.

“So what you really doing?”

“See that convenience store over there?”

“Sure Barney’s”

“Yep, well the vice boys heard a couple of coke heads are going to take it down. We got a man inside. I am gonna sit here to transport the mooch downtown. So take your black and white and be gone wid ya.” I grinned.

An hour or so later a rust old van pulled into the parking lot. Two men got out of the front. They were carrying what looked like AK47 assault rifles.

“Holly shit,” I whispered. Then into the radio I gave a quiet warning to the officer inside. I also called more units to come in quietly.

Before I finished on the radio the deep blast of a shotgun split the night. Then came the tat tat tat. I care was already running so pulling across to block the van was easy. The one gunman tried to make it to the van. I shotgunned him.

Inside the store I found our officer and the clerk dead. Some coke head, I thought as I examined the bodies. Maybe a dealer would be so heavily armed.

Seconds later the narcs were on the scene with their ever present cell phones. They were screaming into them. Mostly it was, “What the fuck do you mean they were terrorist. Who the fuck said they were druggies. Heads are gonna roll on this one.”

“I wonder how you gonna shift the blame to the patrol unit?” I asked it as I walked to the parking lot to await the cop’s cops.