Category: 100 Word Stories

#151 Pentober, The Prequels

Want to join me in handwriting your next story? Read all about Pentober HERE and learn more before October.

#150 Pentober, The Prequels

Want to join me in handwriting your next story? Read all about Pentober HERE and learn more before October.

#149 Pentober, The Prequels

Want to join me in handwriting your next story? Read all about Pentober HERE and learn more before October.

#148 Pentober, The Prequels

Want to join me in handwriting your next story? Read all about Pentober HERE and learn more before October.

#147 Pentober, The Prequels

Want to join me in handwriting your next story? Read all about Pentober HERE and learn more before October.

#146 Timeless

A hot tip. That’s what it was. So hot, in fact, he began to sweat. Eating lunch one afternoon he overheard a conversation he wouldn’t dare repeat to anyone.

There were five men in front of him. Unable to be still and patient he started to bite his nails. Now four men.

The race was about to begin and he still hadn’t placed his bet. Now three men.

His mouth was suddenly like the Sahara desert, palms sticky. Two men.

He reached in his pocket.

One man.

No wallet.

Panic set in. A shot rang out to start the race.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

Timeless – With Felix Purat

Seeking the eternal in literature and cultural philosophy.

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.

#145 The Fictional

“…it’s been ten days since my last confession. I killed a man last night. And it felt good. To be honest, he had it coming from the very beginning.”

Making my confession made me feel so much better. A weight had been lifted, telling a man who had to keep my secret.

“I understand, my child,” he said, and paused before adding, “will you do it again?”

“I think so. I can’t help it. I have a taste for it now. What should I do?”

“Go home and finish the story so I can read how it ends, of course!”

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

The Fictional

Writer. Thinker. Linguist. Teacher. I write fantasy, sci-fi, mystery, thriller, and erotica. I write poetry, short stories, flash and serialized fiction and novels. I write because there are stories to be told, and I want to know how they end, too.

By SJStone

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.

#144 A Stone, A Web, A Story

Field Guide Log #84

We had been underground for hours, walking through a web of tunnels before finding what we were looking for. A large stone with images believed to be the first story written by human hands. We scanned the images, hoping to be the first to transcribe it for the world.

They told the story of a woman who was chased by beasts. She entered a cave, not unlike ours, and hid away, waiting to be rescued.

“I knew you’d come.” The voice was faint but definitely female. We came for a story but uncovered so much more.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

A Stone, a Web, a Story

serial fiction for nonconformists who want their reality sprinkled with magic.

By Jennifer Rose

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.

#143 Title, goes here

The old man sat in the church cemetery every single day clutching a bunch of lilies in one hand and his hat in the other. His hair balding on top but the wisps of auburn, a nod to his younger years.

The bench he occupied faced several gravestones but it was one in particular he visited. Large rectangle. Same as the rest. But upon further inspection, what made it different from the others was its lack of a name. 

Only he knew who was buried there and as long as he lived he vowed to keep watch and never forget.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

Title, goes here

Stories and more stories! Mainly flash fiction, Harold and Sallie stories, some personal essays and updates about my writing and life in general.

By Kim H.

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.

#142 The Sudden Walk

The music coming from Hanover House was so loud the ground at the cemetery vibrated. The house was filled with guests in costume, drinking and laughing and dancing to the music. No one noticed the couple who floated a few inches off the floor when they moved.

They wore their wedding attire from the blessed day that took place nearly a century ago in this very house. He was much smaller in his tuxedo and she didn’t fill out her dress quite like she used to.

Their skeletal faces shone by the lights of the disco ball. And they danced.

In keeping with the theme for the rest of September, check out the publication whose name I used for the story you just read. And if you like their writing, give them a Subscribe to let them know!

The Sudden Walk

Short Fiction Stories, thought experiments exploring the human condition.

By Hamish Kavanagh

Special thanks to for being a part of the Substack Fiction Community and now a part of my 100 Word Story journey.