100 Words -- Nora Wright

OK, Nora claims to have been suffering from jet lag when she wrote this one, so if anyone spots any repeats, please post a comment, but it looks good to me.

It's Over
by Nora Wright

It’s over.

After all the months of preparation, stress, confusion, overt disagreements, silent rebellion, this incredible train rolled into her station. Then came nearly one hundred hours filled with excitement, joy, sheer terror, pain, enlightenment, boredom, anger, and finally, exhaustion. New acquaintances were made, old friends celebrated, good times enjoyed by everyone. Nobody slept, much.

My mind absorbed myriad experiences, struggling to comprehend such disparity. Emotions battled against each other without resolution.

Some stragglers breakfasted together Tuesday morning. We exchanged brief goodbyes. I pulled away from our empty hotel feeling a sharp, wordless ache inside me.

Another Balticon is gone.

100 Words -- Pete Clark

Sometimes you have to keep it in the family...

Lake You
by Pete Clark

Imagine vast landscapes expanding before uncontaminated, civilized neural pathways. Unfamiliar memes triggering horrific immersions in scale gone excruciatingly awry. Distance… purpose…identity.. sentience…all exposed as shadows played upon quantum walls, formerly Totality, by flames ignited at Time Zero. Forces which hover just below the surface of humanity’s gestalt watering hole where everyone’s soul monkey stops, catching an all too brief, yet absolutely necessary repast from unflinching, atavistic predators that never, ever cease chasing delicious morsels, swinging temptingly, piñatas stuffed with guilt smelling suspiciously like cheesecake, whiskey and timidity. All animals must eventually lose, struggling vainly against this enemy, Instinct. Damn it.

100 Words -- Bob Podrasky

OK, Princess Points! I've been working over-time, and I wrote a couple more. So indulge my histrionics as I post another of my own.

Defiance
by Bob Podrasky

Paper plates, sporks. Juice boxes, sandwiches, potato salad. Frisbee, kite, soccer ball. “Sweetie, go downstairs. Find the wicker basket with red handles.” Upstairs, telephone ringing, muffled conversation. Not again you don’t. Footsteps coming down stairs. “Honey? I’m so sorry. Emergency at work. Picnic will have to wait. Can we try for next weekend?”
A child bounding back up, eager, excited. “Mommy? Where is Daddy going?”
“Your father has lives that need saving, baby.”
“What about our…,” eyes curling in disappointment.
Postponements, promises. Summers go by, holidays, Sundays. Childhood never waits, nor marriage.
“Pack that bag, kiddo!” Who needs him anyway?

100 Words -- Robert Glaze

My Own Evening News
by Robert Glaze

He sat there without anything to say. Staring at her packing suitcases made him feel complete abandonment. Why leave after six years? She left. Visiting favorite places they went only brought thoughts concerning suicide. Looking upon many old photos would just make nice days, go bad. Songs shared between them were now depressing. Anger ensued then vindictiveness. Shoeboxes flew from the walk-in closet, a firearm retrieved. Driving across town didn’t give much time for reconsideration. When all was said and done, five innocent bystanders lay dead, including an unrequited love.
Will we ever start believing that people kill, not guns?

Still More to Come!

I'm really enjoying posting all your tremendous works for all to read. Quiet readers, if you have some words of encouragement or if you enjoyed any of the works, please feel free to post comments! Still more to come tomorrow! Heck, it was a soft deadline anyway. No one's giving out grades here. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

B

100 Words -- Heather FaerieStar

OK, this is the most rewarding one for me, because of how it makes Heather feel.

"um, im not a writer, nor do i generally entertain the thought... but having made a haiku challenge for myself this year, i thought, what the hell, 100 words wont kill me, and i wonder if i could even do it. i did. im proud of it, because i completed it... i know you will receive better stories, but im sending mine in, cause i did it damnit :) and im proud of myself."

I'm proud of it, too, Heather. It's adorable!

Xander Wiggins III
by Heather FaerieStar

No introductions necessary for my cat, there is fur, it's striped. Normally kitty spends his days eating, sleeping, purring...simple. One fairly boring afternoon, sweet tabby happens upon a cozy blanket...perfect napping zone. Paws begin to gently knead, slumber follows...bringing awake-like dreams where he finds an adventurous winged faerie friend. This laughing mischievous creature toys with whisker boy, First buzzing about velvety ears expecting quick chase...next giggling when little lion hands miss--skilled escape artist. Soon our pair settle down, whispering secrets of love and life. Listening, remembering the hunter wakes, finds warm lap, curls up.

100 Words -- K. Hutson Price

I think you can probably tell which ones come from Lisa Fans... lock your doors and windows tonight after you read this one! Very cool...

Winged Assassin
by K. Hutson Price

Broken glass crunched underfoot. Good people sleep while I roam, peeking in windows. Searching. Sniffing down her scent. Black leather gloves, shiny with age, stretched over hardened hands and a gleaming silver sappara is all the better for slitting throats, dear. Knife-points stars cruelly cut through an ocher bruised sky, lighting paths through darkness.
But which to choose? This house? That one, where Kindertoys lay strewn about like Hugo’s aftermath? Complications. Decisions. Life’s full of them. Creation? No, thanks. Destruction’s my job. Seek out sinners. End it. Michael assigns cases, Gabriel –that’s me- takes care of business, doing God’s work.

100 Words -- The Lady of Shallott

And One from a mysterious mad woman...

Untitled
by The Lady of Shallott

Slit throats glare back mockingly through hazy vision. Could such horror truly just happen? No fanfare, hardly any emotion felt. Death seems unfriendly now, considering pronounced pain endured in achieving it. Intrinsic guilt bears down before thoughts metaphysical return. Well-pitched lies conjure justification. Metamorphosis, afterlife, glory... crackbrain rationalization. Inevitably, crimson rivers of exsanguination make reality divert, falling upon delusion, unable or unwilling to recognize what ‘IS’. Smiling sheepishly while fingering the blade with reverent sensations, I reject gratitude for venerable actions. ‘You’re welcome, Dear Ones,’ muttered by unfamiliar voice, my own. ‘Time immediate. Move along. More souls require release.’

I Promise...

...more this afternoon. I have to go to a meeting now that will last the entire morning. Further adventures in 100 words will be back after this commercial break.

UH-OH! LAURA!

Woopsie! Hey, Laura Mann! You've got two 'the's in your piece! Can you edit it and resubmit abiding by the rules? Who made these stinkin' rules anyway.. oh wait, that would be me.

More homework for Laura!

100 Words -- Rosie Waller

They keep coming! One more before I hit the hay... what a fun day!

Untitled
by Rosie Waller

There is a grassy bank where I sat and waited for people who did not come. Leant myself back against rucksack, expecting damp ground working throughtrousers. Gazed at feet in front, marking grass, crushing stems too brittle to spring upright after I'd left. Became aware of earth uncomfortably irregular beneath me. Still found contentment watching leaves waving above, clouds moving past behind them. Surrounded with glowing buttercups just above knee height, vetches below them, unripe seedheads everywhere. Heard wind moving trees, but felt gentle breezes. Warmed by sunlight, tasting blossom on air. Absent others stopped mattering. Life was good.

100 Words -- Robert C. Johnson, Jr.

Here are 100 different words from Robert C. Johnson, Jr., who had a really wonderful comment about doing this exercise that I'd like to share:

"All the stories I wanted to tell spilled way over. So finally I let go of all the 'story' and just told one true thing. Then it was just a matter of selecting the words that fit."

Another's Feelings
by Robert C Johnson Jr., May 28, 2005

Ever get a sudden feeling there's more to existence than you previously even suspected? I'd known Allen since 6th grade, been mad in love from 7th. We were best friends right at the start, and he didn't have clue one how I really felt. But I'm not telling that story now. This story's about Allen's dad, sorta. Mr. Lewis' funeral. Holding his son with these arms afterwards was an epiphany. Him sobbing, grief wracked. Such strong non sexual emotions shocked me, seemed truly alien. My heart broke for both of us. Al's loss so very plain. Mine just discovered, unexplainable.

100 Words -- Laura Mann

More of Lisa's fans offering pieces! From Florida...

Untitled
by Laura Mann

Two parallel worlds, one of indifference, an other obsession. First creates isolation, distance. Second consumes entirely. A magnet, opposite polarities enjoined as single unit. It pulls and rends, twists, torments. Riding the ruthless roller coaster. Up then downhill again, WHEEEEE! What waits below?

Oblivious bliss, just kiss. Irrational dreams imbued with scenes of passionate things that may never be. Want and desire...craziness. I breathe, sigh, cry.

Run fast? Where?

Stay near? Around here?

Choices available?

None but eternal waiting.

Hate? No, love...agony, ecstasy, prevailing adoration...causes tears flowing on soft cheeks.

He does this to me.

Phone rings.

100 Words -- Alys Robinson

Our little homework assignment has spanned oceans! Here's one from Alys Robinson who was the first to get one submitted! Thanks, A!

Forbidden
by Alys Robinson

Rose. Velvet, blood, wine, old garnets caught by gaslight. Thorns prick, unmade decision, theft, deserted garden, who will know? Perfume, musk, sandalwood, enthralls, warm fog, drawn deep. Coughing, throat burning. White-fanged death howls down. Threat penetrates enchantment, fear takes hold. Running. Wolves pursue. Deep as forest shadow falls, concealment fails. Scent betrays, clinging like a lover. Comfortless, illusory refuge. Impossible hope strikes spurs into aching sides. Fluttering. Something inside beats, frantic for escape. Falling. Treetops, moonlit, twist into fantastic shapes. Tearing. Skin splits, shining silk emerges. Wings unfurl, spread luminescent, shining, across dark sky. The rest curls away, withers, crumbles.

100 Words -- Lisa Snellings Clark

OK, I'm posting these a little faster than once a day. I'm really excited about them. Thanks all for submitting! This is fantastic! So I promised I'd go first, which I did, and now let's hear from Lisa!

Midnight
by Lisa Snellings Clark

I swim at midnight, remembering Father. His teaching penny, its shocking copper taste, erased emotion, stopped tears instantly, infallibly. Hard focus tattooed my childhood mind. Night forgets murk. Water feels clear, silky. Most have gone, our desert nearly…deserted. Fear followed the attacks, then panic, violence, chaos, looting, horrible smells and finally, terrible quiet. Sandy winds scrubbed everything clean.
Tomorrow, we few will trek with great difficulty up those snowy mountains, taking trucks until fuel supplies run out or roads become too narrow. For now, floating here, memories flow past like currents, preparing me.
All is packed, including one old coin.

100 Words ---- HOMEWORK!

OK, folks, we've got some really great submitted short-shorts for the homework assignment. Instead of just posting one, I'd like to post many over the next few days. Lisa really helped get the word out, and you've really delivered with some strong work. Lisa and I are discussing doing this exercise again, this time with a theme! So keep on the lookout on her site and mine for your follow-up project!

Now for the stories. I promised I would go first to ease you all into it. Mine's probably the most boring of all, so don't worry about your own. Folks, also please comment on each story as they appear, whether you liked it or not, etc. Also, we've all found it a little difficult to make sure we're not using a word twice. Everyone's been hunting for software tools that will help that task, so please police each other. If a submitted story by accident has a repeated word in it, please chime in, and the author will be asked to resubmit with the repeat fixed.

So here's my boring little story. Go ahead. Comment on it. I promise I won't cry.

Mentor
by Bob Podrasky

“But Dad, why must I learn from making mistakes?”
“Experience, Son,” his father said. “There is nothing like figuring something out for yourself!”
Walking together in their garden, parent lecturing child, they stepped into the warm sunlight.
“When a gardener sows seeds, some fall on rock, where nothing can grow. Others find strong, firm soil.”
He contemplated this notion. Questioning results. Accepting losses, failures. Doing better next time. Seemed sensible, yet…
“So you see, it makes sense.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Tell me then its moral.”
“Discard all textbooks. Ignore warnings and directions. Heed not your teachers. Don’t expect any help.”

So, what are you doing June 6?

Yet another reminder. I've got you working on a homework assignment, AND you have an event you have to attend coming up! Remember, if you're in the New York City area, I want you to come to fagblog's first event! Go to see '29th and Gay' at NewFest, the New York City Lesbian & Gay Film Festival. My ex made a movie! It's only playing once. At Loew's 34th Street on Monday, June 6 at 8:15 pm. You have to buy tickets in advance!!! At Loew's 34th Street or online at newfest.org.

And remember your other assignment! If you do go to the movie and you heard about it here at fagblog, as the lights go down or the previews end or whatever feels like the appropriate time right before the movie starts, in the darkness when it's quiet, I want you to call out 'Pedro!' in honor of James Vasquez who made the film. Cuz that's his real name. Just scroll back to the original post. It will make more sense. I've got my tickets! How about you?

The Weekend's Almost Over!

Hopefully you are all having horrible, tragic flashbacks to high school. The weekend's almost over, and suddenly you realize: you haven't done your homework! I'm hoping for a few more short-shorts, people! Many, many, many thanks to the Rat Hag for linking up and for being her fabulous self. She really helped it get out there to more people and spread the creativity, even around the globe!

If you're at work on your piece, send it in, even if you're late. I'm going to be posting stories from folks for a few days. I'll make myself the guinea pig and post my own first -- followed closely by the work of a certain rat lover. So the guinea pig then the rat... it's like a pet store around here, ain't it?

A Real Compliment

Good ol' Lisa has posted 'Homework' to her website (http://slaugherhousestudios.blogspot.com) to try to get more people interested in writing a short-short with us. It's working! Yay! We'll have some good pieces posted here! I went over to her site, and she said this about me:

We wants to squash him occasionally.

Wow. It is my belief that that's the greatest compliment you can give a blogger. I love knowing when I push buttons. Now you kids get to your homework or no dessert!

Remembering Pain

A man and woman standing next to me on the train were chatting. She asked how his arm was feeling, and he said, 'Oh it's totally fine. I just have this nasty scar now.' And she questioned him further, 'And how did you manage to do that again?' 'Oh I was carrying all these things including a drill, and something touched up against the drill's button, and it came on and drilled into my skin.'

OK, yeah, I really didn't need that visual, or worse that sound, in my head first thing in the morning. But you know, it made me realize something. You can't remember pain. I mean, physical pain. You can remember the emotion. You can remember how you felt ABOUT the pain, but you can't really remember the actual physical pain, what it was like to feel. You can remember the emotion and shock of being hurt by someone you trusted, especially in the case of abuse, but that's not the same as remembering the actual pain itself.

A few years back, I broke my finger playing volleyball and had to have two metal pins drilled through the bones to set it. I decided to walk out of the hospital afterward and head to a pharmacy to fill my prescription for painkillers. Oops, the pharmacy was closed. So I walked a bit further to the next. Closed. The next... opened, but they didn't have my prescription on hand. By the time I found one that was open and had my pills, the local anesthetics had completely worn off, and I was feeling the full effect of two metal rods drilled through my bones. I was screaming as I walked through the store. The clerks were all coming running and asking what was the matter. I threw the prescription on the counter, begging, 'Please fill this, but you have to give me one right now...' and showed them my finger. Within minutes, the pain was subsiding. It was the most intense thing I have ever felt in my entire life. But I can't bring it back to mind really. I can think about it. I can think about the fear and the emotion, but I can't really touch upon the reality of what it must have felt like in the moment.