Your 100 Word Story
REMINDER: Collaborative writing with me is the FIRST Friday of every month. See you again on April 5th. Weekly prompts can be found by turning ON #Pentober52 from your subscriber settings here.
IMAGE PROMPT
Tell me about one of the tenants who live in this building. Maybe itās someone whoās lived there all their life. Or someone new moving in. Perhaps the landlord is clearly up to somethingā¦ š
You donāt have to write your story today!
Free write all weekend long!
MY 50 WORDS
Add your own by copy/pasting it in the comments or hit reply to this email.
They said it would start on the 1st of March and start, it did. It was just flurries at first. Innocent enough to a child. But to adults everywhere, it was a sign that they were out there. It would never stop they said. Everyone would be trapped or worse.
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.
Great picture prompt, Erica ā¦ Iām in. Iāll stir up my imagination and tease out a dark character later. Have a great weekend.
It almost looked pretty. I walked up to the building through the falling ashes. Did you know that ashes sting the eyes? Even cold? Total combustion causes that. All carbon is gone; mix with water and you get caustic potassium hydroxide. All that is left from the ovens. Caustic memories. My job? Stay out of the ovens by picking the next offering. How do I select? It is arbitrary. I am death, and I donāt care. The door opens and it is dark. I will see someone, and I will choose. Movement. You! It is Ash Wednesday. Time to go.
It was followed by the howls. Preternatural and distant, but closing. āInside! Grab the children. See to the barricades!ā The crazed woman on the 3rd floor had been yelling that for days. But there were no children. No one old either. You move faster than the next one or die.
So, I may have miss stepped. One 100 word story prompted by the picture. One 50 word continuation of your prompt. Tried to hit the vibe I see in your newsletter. Thanks!
No such thing as a misstep with Free Writing Friday! It’s intended for you to write as much as you want AND collaborate with me by adding your 50 words to mine to formulate a 100 word story if you want. You can write as many as you want! No limits! Endless possibilities!
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Landlady (flash fiction)
The scrawled note on the elevator read āOut of Serviceā. Droplets of rain turned the tiled floor treacherous. He had to run the gauntlet though the flickering bulb offered hope. Her door was ajar. His youthful nostrils discerned boiling cabbage but the name of the cloying perfume evaded him. Heād been snared before. Obliged to sit on the chaise longue with her ageing bony claw scrabbling at his thigh. Her desperate nasal whine, a flimsy housecoat revealing too much but less than she intended. He shuddered, nervously fingering the roll of twenties. āThe rent, dear, we could make an arrangementā.
In tiny Woodbury, an oddly massive hospital looms, void of doctors, nurses, and beds. Locals, curious, venture to Mainhaven for medical care. Woodbury’s relic is boarded-up, with a forbidden basement that lures adventurous kids. They unearth eerie, rusted tools reminiscent of horror films. Legend whispers that a century ago, the colossal structure was the state asylum, harboring bizarre events. Patients, lost in time, vanished mysteriously. Rumor suggests one transformed into the town’s mayor, proving unexpectedly adept. In the shadows of Woodbury’s past, whispers of a sinister era persist, casting an ominous veil over the unsuspecting town.