Tag Archives: 100 words

A Few Centuries More or Less in the Man Cave from Hell

man cave

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

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“Oh now, it’s not all that bad,” said the Dark Prince.

I reacted in appropriate horror. “Are you kidding? It’s hideous. Could we just go with the traditional lake of fire with demons wielding pitchforks?” I knew I was whining, but what more could he do to me?

“This isn’t on me. I wasn’t the one who spent decades swilling booze, snorting coke, and who ended up committing suicide after bankrupting his family.”

He had me there. I was a louse. There were reasons but they didn’t matter.

“It’s not forever,” he said smiling. “Just until you redeem your soul.”

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Steamflight

liz

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

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“You really like it in that steampunk reality?” Josue Hunter stood in this secret museum admiring the flying machine with his best friend Wyatt Ellison.

“You sound so surprised, Josue. I got into time traveling for the adventure, so when history made this turn, you knew I’d jump for it.”

“And you knew I’d pass, giving up time travel. My universe became safe and mundane, well except for this.” He motioned toward alternate reality’s first steam driven aeroplane from the mid-19th century.

“You needed your history to be safe for your family. The time change gave you that, my friend.”

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Collector’s Item

guitar

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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“You’re kidding. No. Absolutely not.” Daniel stared in disgust at the rainbow-striped acoustic guitar. It was hanging with others of the more common variety in a second-hand store catering exclusively to metanormal customers.

“I’m serious. In a couple of months, when GenZ discovers the music of legendary folk singer Kain DeMarko, it will be worth millions. He played it three times at the Fillmore West during the Summer of Love.”

“You are the silliest predictive AI I’ve ever engaged.” He’d just leased Sofia and uploaded her into his cranial implant last week.

“It’s on discount for one-fifty. C’mon, buy it.”

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Macau

rickshaw

PHOTO PROMPT © Amanda Forestwood

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Demetrius saw that Charles and Diane had chosen two human-pulled rickshaws rather than self-driving e-shaws. They were meeting with Mr. Phoebe at his estate near Zhuxian Park. This should have been an easy kill, but where were the drivers?

The bounty hunter walked down the street pretending to be a western tourist. There they were. Not just drivers but bodyguards. They were vaping near the service entrance.

He released the brake on the first rickshaw and watched it roll downhill. One driver would be gone for awhile as Dem killed the other and then slipped inside for his real prey.

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This Tape Will Self Destruct in Five Seconds

missouri

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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The tall man in the sports jacket looked awkward in the fabric shop as he approached the brunette clerk wearing glasses.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a fabric for my wife. It’s going to be our fifth wedding anniversary and she wants something in amethyst.”

“You mean sapphire.” She paused for a moment. “I have just the thing in back. Come with me.”

She escorted him to a storage area and excused herself. Alone, he then pulled an envelope and a small tape recorder from inside a drawer and turned it on.

The control voice began, “Good morning, Mr. Phelps.”

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Guardian

camping

PHOTO PROMPT © AJ Wilson

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Some idiot family from the suburbs thinks owning an SUV gives them license to off-road to a wilderness area and then trash it. I bet they think taking the little kiddies down to the lake is some sort of adventure. Those trails haven’t been used in years and with good reason.

I walk over to the blue foldout chair, have a seat, and wait. Fortunately, he doesn’t come out until dark. With any luck I can get these people out of here before he wakes up. As the guardian, I’m the only thing between this family and an immortal killer.

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The Last Goodnight

dale

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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The rental was one of several identical row houses, one bedroom plus a loft, one-and-a-half baths, small kitchen and dining area. The neighborhood was quiet. It was a perfect place to finish his last novel. It would also be his first novel, but the publisher said it was a sure bestseller.

At seventy-one, his first and only bestseller after laboring for over forty years. It cost him his marriage, any connection to his family, and certainly his sobriety.

He could have it done and submitted in a few months. Once published, then the long, drunken descent into his last goodnight.

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Taking the Wife Along

roger

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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It was just before 5 a.m. The apartment Demetrius borrowed from its owners had a view of the Brooklyn Bridge if you didn’t mind the house plants and tattered shades. Real estate was so expensive here.

“Will you kill him?” The hologram of his wife projected from a chip in his brain haunted him like Jiminy Cricket.

“If you must know, the reward is dead or alive with a bonus if he’s still breathing.”

“What about the family who lives here?”

“Once he gets home, they’ll be set free, okay?” She was just as annoying dead as she was alive.

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Unbreaking Chains

table

PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin

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“There’s no going back.” Leonard sat on the metal chair opposite her, casually running his index finger across the symbols etched on the tabletop. It was a public garden, quite lovely. The summer morning was humid but still cool.

“I didn’t say anything about going back, just reliving the experience with a different outcome.”

“It’s a fantasy. I wouldn’t be able to save them.”

“But you’d be able to see that their deaths were not your fault.”

“And this disc will do that for me?” He waved his hands over the table’s surface.

“Let’s begin the ceremony and find out.”

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This Isn’t Me

resized

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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How did I end up like this?

Look at this. A baby walker, little kiddie motorized truck, and the worst of it, a mega-propane barbecue.

This isn’t me. It was never me. I guess that’s the point, though.

“Alan? Can you come in and help me change the baby’s diaper?”

“Yeah, Hon. In a minute.” I sound just like some stupid suburban husband. I mutter, “The name’s Ricco.”

I shrug my shoulders and start trudging up the back steps. Diapers. Married. Barbecues. It’s not me, but then the mob won’t be looking for a hit man turned state’s evidence here.

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