Your 100 Word Story
REMINDER: Collaborative writing with me is the FIRST Friday of every month. See you again on February 2nd. Till then Iāll still provide an image prompt each week to get your inspirations going into the weekend.
IMAGE PROMPT
I could tell you where to go with this image but thereās just too many options and the last thing I want to do is influence you one way or anotherā¦letās see if you can impress me! š
You donāt have to write your story today!
Free write all weekend long!
WRITE YOUR OWN 100 WORD STORY
Write exactly 100 words. Not 99 or 101. The Word Count Police are tracking!
Genre? Writerās choice! So long as you give us all the thrills and the feels.
To Fic or to Non-Fic? You decide. What matters most is that youāre satisfied with the output.
Copy/paste your words in the comments, then share on your own Substack, and maybe, share to social media!
A Note on Substack Notes | Click the š āRestack with a Noteā and copy/paste your story for added reach and growth.
The Adams Family were a lot more like the Addams Family, the scandal of Braintree.
“It’s a miracle that the country voted you Vice President,” said General Washington, shaking a sheaf of papers at John Adams. “But you will ever become president with this hanging over your head.”
John drew up plans to split off his homestead from Braintree and name it Quincy.
“And then I can lose the police records in an accident,” he said, grabbing the papers from the General.
“What about the rumor-mongers?” said Washington.
Adams quieted them with a few troops borrowed during the Whiskey Rebellion.
Dressing Down (fiction)
History was not on the side of the renowned illustrator who had moved to the village late last Autumn. But how was she to know? She only entered the art competition to open up a conversation about hosting Life Studies classes in the Community Hall. As Mayor Harris – re-elected for a record-breaking 17th year in office ā stared disdainfully at her drawing, the illustrator had time to count the times the name āHarrisā appeared on the winnerās trophy. Sixteen. Really? āThese drawing classes ? Nudes, you say ? I really think not. We donāt care for nakedness in these partsā.
Erika, whats the deadline?
No deadline. This is to work at your own leisure. It’s intended to be a writing activity for the weekend. So, if you want to have a self-imposed deadline: by EOD Sunday.
Ok. Thanks. Im asking because i want to participate
They found him in the church, face down in the baptismal basin. In his last moments, the preacher, whoād grown up just steps from where heād taken his first sip of the blood and first nibble of the body, was relieved. *Iāll be home shortly.*
Walking away from the church, a boy, not more than 10, coffers cleared and pocketed, heading away from the festering goodness of boredom, puts the Roman collar around his neck. He sips the pinched cup of grape juice, then, in further defiance, bites the cracker, letting the juice soak into it; it turns to mush.
It was a bonny summerās day. The trees were full of lush green foliage. River decided she would wander from her house to the church at the top of the hill. Half way up she stopped off at Holme farm to collect the milk. āGood morning Sam, moneyās in the tin, seeya later!ā. When she made it up to the church, there lay a great horror for River. The reverend was laying dead in the graveyard. River screamed and sped all the way back home immediately calling the Police. A murder investigation was called for and Sam was prime suspect.