The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Lisa Lizzie Richard Serendipidy Norval Joe Tom Planet Z The next topic is Has-beens LISA Our Adductor Explains “The wealth we have is beyond comprehension. This has, in some respects, made us into outsiders. Neither of us fit into traditional society or, indeed, like society. So, we would like to start something else. A sort of new community built on love and trusting. That’s why, you see, taking you all against your will wasn’t the right start for this. I’d prefer it if you’d chosen to be here in the first place. We both hope that now you’re here you’ll choose to stay with us. We won’t force anyone so please, do say if you’d rather leave.” RICHARD Outsider Even after all these years, I'm treated like an outsider. So what if I've lived here since I was a young man? I wasn't born here: That's why I'll never fit in. It doesn't matter to them that my accent is strange, or that my skin is a different colour. They don't care that I worship other gods and follow my own traditions. None of this bothers them. But they still watch me, with suspicion in their gaze; fall silent when I approach; they still keep their secrets from me. I was born an outsider, and an outsider I remain. TOM Outsider Frank and Bill met in grad-school. Both brilliant, top of class, destine for greatness. Frank became the consummate Insider. Walked the halls of powers. Knew the power elite. His council was sought out by the Half a Percent. Bill on the other hand was the consummate Outsider. He left no foot print in the corporal or the cyber world. Basically, he was off the grid, in deep cover. When Interpol finally caught up with Frank and sent him to the Hague for war crimes, it was Bill who sprung him. No one saw him coming no saw them go outside. 857 Crash My dad had Chutzpah. If there was an event in his neighborhood where free-food was served, he and my godfather Eddie would crash it in the most brazen ways. Friend of the groom to her family. Friend of the bride to his. One night he got hold of the mic and sang to the newlyweds. Even got their names wrong, but it didn’t matter, boy could he sell it. My dad crashed funerals. In Chicago wakes had excellent spreads. He could turn on the water-works on cue. One time he broke down in tear in the arms of the archbishop. SERENDIPIDY Another Outsider came today I threw stones at him, and he went away I just want to help, I heard him say But help from strangers isn't my way He'll be back again sometime, I know But I'll throw more stones, and away he'll go The Outsiders say they have my welfare at heart But I'd rather live my life apart From those who think they are so smart. Yet still they continue to come around They shout and yell when I go to ground. Why can't they all leave and let me be And remain Outsiders, just like me? LIZZIE The family and the outsider. The mother, the father, the brother, the sister. A family like so many. The hugs and the smiles. The praises and the photos. A family like any other. Everyone smiled. Everyone thought, what a wonderful family. So loving, so caring. The kids look so happy. Except for the outsider. She was not happy. Why do you always have to frown for the photos? Why can't you be quiet? Why can't you be more like your sister? Why do we even bother? The outsider was never hugged or praised... or loved. The outsider was her daughter. NORVAL JOE After three days of getting the same answer to his calls to the hospital, Billbert was fed up. He left school and went straight to the hospital. He picked up the phone outside the ICU and told the ward clerk he was there to see Sabrina Hecksaohos. "I've told you before, Billbert. Only family members can come in to visit." Frustrated, Billbert said, "And I told you before, I'm not some random outsider. I'm her only friend, and she needs me to see her. I'm going to sit here in the hallway, outside your door,

As I strolled down the avenue, I realized that my shadow was not my own. The embassy frequently warned us about rogue shadows, the shadows of their greatest and most successful spies. “Watch your back!” Say the posters. This is why all official business happens in specially-built light rooms, with light coming from all directions to purge any rogue shadows. Trapped in dark prisms and shadow boxes, kept in a massive safe. Until the enemy offers an exchange. Their captured shadows for ours. Lining up on the bridge, facing each other, flashlights and spotlights to ensure they are genuine.

The problem with naming things New is that they eventually become old. New Coke was a total flop, and Coke had to bring back their old formula. They called it Coke Classic, eventually dropping the Classic along with New Coke. New Wave music ruled the late 70's and early 80's, conquering consciousnesses through MTV. Until the fad was replaced with newer music, coming back now and then as retro through tribute acts. Then there's New York and New England. What's so new there? They're just old, dilapidated piles of rubble with the occasional bright and shiny sticking out of them.

I don't know what's so exciting about the home run derby. Some guy lobs easy pitches to a batter, and they slug them over the fence. Over and over and over. Where's the challenge in that? What I really want to see is the steal home plate derby. That's where the real excitement is, a guy stealing home. Although it's kind of hard to do in a derby, since they know the guy is going to try to steal home. So, instead, let's go with a Bench Clearing Brawl Derby. Give the winner a pickup truck. And an ice pack.

Elwood had a decent credit rating, so he got a lot of credit card offers in the mail. They were better than the high-interest service fee cards he'd gotten when he was poor and broke. But he looked at the cashback offers for the store cards, and he noticed that they paid out less than other general bank cards for the same category. So, he broke into his neighbors' mailboxes with better credit ratings, got cards in their names, and ran up huge tabs. Then he drove off to Mexico. At least the neighbors got good cashback on his fraud.

I like to walk to the grocery store every Saturday. If it's going to be a very hot day, I go as early as I can. And I take a route that's through a nice neighborhood with shady trees and wide sidewalks. There's joggers, people pushing strollers, and others going to the store or coming back from it with their bags. Today, I walked past a couple walking their two dogs. Well, one was laying on the ground, not moving, and another was sniffing it and whining. The couple was crying. Maybe it's too hot out to walk, after all?

When I broke my elbow, I was stuck in the emergency room with a phone at 3% battery and no cord or spare battery. A doctor let me borrow his charger so I could get texts out to friends, and they convinced the gift shop to send a cord to my hospital room. And cookies. And iced tea. And stuffed bears. Since then, I've had battery anxiety. I bought a plug-in hybrid car instead of a Tesla because of battery anxiety. And I panic when I see a coworker's shared desktop on Zoom when they're not plugged in and charging.

Lisa Lizzie Richard Serendipidy Justin the Space Turtle David Fairbanks Norval Joe Tom Planet Z The next topic is Outsider JUSTIN THE SPACE TURTLE Three… You never know how it’ll turn out. You thought it would be amazing, as endless as anything can be this side of Heaven, and be a little slice of it. Two… surely it’s just a challenge, it will be OK, just try again, learn, try harder, be better. Push through the pain, do the best you can. One… It’s not right anymore, you say. You’re told you’re wrong, but also that you’re right, and it’s done. Zero… It’s over, gone, and there’s nothing left but the broken pieces of your life. And the struggle to keep what should remain. DAVID Officer Under Fire “Officer under fire!” blared across the radio. Andrew Macarthy had been in fistfights and gunfights, fended off dogs, and had cars crash into his own at breakneck speed. This experience put them all to shame, for a child held his fate. Constricted with no way out, a chill running over him, he could only wait. One shot fired, missing by inches. A second shot, a little closer. Andrew looked out the glass, where the child held his baseball with fiery eyes. The kid wound up and threw—bullseye! Andrew plunged into icy water with shocking effect. “Officer down!” the announcer cheered. RICHARD Officer Down "He's lying very still, Sarge… I think he's dead" The sergeant gave me a grim look, "Let's hope not. Bad enough having an officer down, without it becoming 'killed in the line of duty'" We inched forward, wary of hidden shooters but, as we neared the body, we sighed in relief at the sight of the rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing. No... Snoring! A nudge from my foot brought him to bleary-eyed, surprised, wakefulness. To be honest, I think the Sarge would have preferred 'killed in the line of duty' to 'sleeping on the job'! SERENDIPIDY You never know quite what the immediate future is going to bring. Any random action can result in unforeseen consequences; like that trip over a paving stone, that sends you flying helplessly into the path of a bus! Unlikely, I know, especially if you’re the cautious, careful type; but accidents can happen! Then again, it may be the random action of somebody else entirely that completely ruins your day. Like the moment I sneak quietly up behind you, and randomly push you into the path of that approaching bus. It wasn't me though. You tripped over that paving stone, right? LISA Gathered The fire crackled; my muscles, stiff from spending months on the floor, began to unknot in the warmth and comfort of the heavily cushioned sofa. “When I gathered the first of you it was a completely random action.” Our faces all grimaced at his word choice. “I’d just got the idea of starting something pure but, believe me, this really wasn’t the beginning I wanted for it. It felt like the exact opposite of what I wanted. I had no choice” He winced as if this was hurting him when it was us it affected. None of us had spoken. LIZZIE One, two, three, something… The numbers got jumbled in his head. He wanted to call her. He never understood why she had left. He was a caring husband. He yelled at her sometimes, true, but it was just to toughen her up. He always bought her flowers afterwards. The ungrateful would make a face and walk away. Two, three, something... No. He still loved her. But she abandoned him when he needed her the most. That punch was... Well, but she talked back. Three, one... He kept trying to remember it, not knowing that she had long changed her number. TOM Everyone has their Reason – Rule of the Game Morty had lived his life by other people’s rules. Parents, teachers, Bosses, wives, anyone of authority. He was old and dying inside. The logical option was finding some high bridge and take a swan dive.

When Fall comes, I like to move my laptop to the patio table and work from outside. Of course, I need a second monitor. And a power cable for the equipment. Maybe a large fan, when the breeze isn't blowing. Then there's the wireless keyboard and trackpad. And my phone. Don't forget the pitcher of iced tea. And lemons. And ice. When everything's set and ready, that's when the sun comes out. And that glowing orange murderball screams I WILL MURDER YOU WITH MY HEAT AND LIGHT! I pack everything back into my little cart and drag it back inside.

So many people on their timelines encourage others to vote. Sometimes for one candidate. Or the other. Or against one of the candidates, implying that you should vote for the other one. And then there's the general calls to vote, without any particular candidate in mind. Just vote. I don't ever endorse people to vote for a candidate. Or against one. Or even encourage people to vote. If you've ignored every other call to vote, for or against, or at all, and it's all down to what I think... Just give up. Tear up your registration card and go away.

Even though there's dog waste bag dispensers and disposal kiosks, people still walk their dogs and rarely pick up after them. It stinks, it's unhealthy, the shit's all over the sidewalk, and my laundry cart ends up rolling over the turds. So, I go from door to door with an ultrasonic dog whistle and blow it. If I hear a dog barking, I make a note and move on to the next door. After getting an inventory of dog owners, I wait until night, and then I shit on their welcome mats. "You're welcome," I shout, and run back home.

The chicken processing plant is a factory. Chickens, hung by their legs along a track. Their heads pulled off, their guts reamed out. Their feet chopped off for soup. Slashed and broken by workers with chain mesh gloves and the sharpest blades. Breasts, tenders, wings, thighs, legs. All tossed down chutes for packaging. The rest, we send to the priests. Who sacrifice the bloody mass to our Dark Lord. With his nine thousand faces, we scream out his name. He leaves a trail of blood and flame for us to follow. As the chicken processing plant fades into the darkness.

Of all the antiquated terms people use, I find "hanging up" the phone to be the most amusing. We used to hang the receiver on the phone to terminate the connection. Now, it's a button on a cell phone. Although pushing a button to cut off a call, depending on the type of phone, that's been around a while. Picking up a phone to take a call isn't always necessary. When we have headsets and speakerphones and car phones, we don't actually pick up the phone. And illegal, when you're driving. But I guess hanging up is my biggest hangup.

I've been going to Ryan's Bar for years, and it's a tradition that the oldest guy drinking at the bar gets the television remote. Whatever he chooses, everybody watches. If you want to watch something else, buy him a drink. Maybe he'll change his mind. The better the drink, the better your chances. And the bigger the drink, the faster he'll get drunk and pass out. Leaving the remote to the next oldest guy. One old fart kept wanting to watch cartoons. Ryan took the remote's batteries out. "You get the remote," said Ryan. "But you're not ruining my bar."

Lisa Lizzie Richard Serendipidy Norval Joe Tom Planet Z The next topic is PICK TWO Still, Officer down, Random Action, One two three…, Pure, You never know RICHARD Railway lines I'm writing this on the train. It's a good way to kill the time between departure and arrival, and it's surprising how even the longest journey can seem to fly by. Some might prefer to gaze out of the window, snooze or read, I've tried them all - had to really, when the job meant travelling for hours on end, most days of the week. Then we discovered online meetings. And the travelling stopped. The writing didn't, although somehow it seems I never have the time, these days. So, it's good to be back on the train. Getting creative once again. LIZZIE Train the mind, train the body. Row, row, row. And that was the deal. Resurface after a downfall. Get up and walk, get up and run. Go, go, go. But he didn't want to go, go, go. He didn't want to get up and he definitely didn't want to resurface. He didn't mind the rowing, though. After rowing away for hours, he landed at a beach. Nice. Seagulls in the background. He could get used to this, he thought, until his coach showed up. How...? "GPS, my son, GPS. Why do you think I gave you that gadgety little watch?" SERENDIPIDY I bet they never trained you how to deal with this, did they? Oh yes, you can kill a man with your bare hands, survive in the wild with no food or shelter, sneak up and overcome an enemy before they even know you're there. I know they trained you to resist any kind of torture, giving away nothing but your name, rank and serial number. And I'm sure you're very good at it too. But they never trained you for this. And it's going to last the rest of your life. So just say 'I do', and kiss me! LISA Welcome “So, Welcome to Newton Manor.” He pauses, smiles. “There’s a train station nearby- it’s unused. The ticket office is in our grounds. When the house was built our ancestors had the village moved. The quickest escape would be to walk down the path following the old tracks. That said, I’m happy to drop you in town if any of you want to leave. This is my brother, and since our parents died, we live here alone. It was nothing sinister, old age, but it has left us financially secure and potentially in a position to create something very special here.” TOM Penny a Point I grew up a mile and half from the City of New Orleans tracks. On very still nights could hear it moving down the tracks. One of the joys of being a kid was taking rapped interest in semi-destructive acts. Take flattening copper pennies on train tracks. Not as easy as one would think. The speed and weight of the train play crucial factors in perfectly squashed coins. Also, age. Secondly even if you found the best location of the rails finding the pennies was another matter. Multiple squashes ruined the aesthetic. I have no idea where those pennies went 855 When Stripes Ruled The United Mime Workers Union a was seriously bad ass union. Gave the Teamsters a hard run for the honors. You had to be hecka strong to free yourself from an unseen glass box. Find your way around imaginary invisible walls. They never loss an invisible tug of war. Never ones to be lifted into heaven by non-existent balloons. Go toe to toe with a man who could lift an impossibly heavy bag try that after 15 beers. Sadly, the Mime Works Union isn’t what it uses to be. Striking using imaginary lead pipe just does not cut it. NORVAL JOE Billbert and his parents walked to their car in silence. He wondered what Sabrina was going to do now that her only relative was dead. Could she live by herself in Buhmilda's meadow? Once inside the car, Billbert's father broke into his train of thoughts, and asked, "Are you going to tell us what happened, son?" "Sorry, Dad," he said, swallowed a lump in his throat, and went over the entire story.

You never know which home run is the last home run you hit. Or give up as a pitcher. The last touchdown you catch. Or throw. Or run. Or get called back because of your holding penalty. Maybe it's your call from the booth. Television. Radio. The last dunk. The last free through. The last foul, when you foul out of the game. All your days on the field, the court are long gone. Trade in your cleats for a suit. The last time you get recognized on the street. "Hey, didn't you used to be..." And sign an autograph.

Teddy Baskets leads the league in scoring. Triple Double Teddy. But he also leads the league in shots. And shots missed. And fouls and turnovers and minutes. If you average things out, you'll see why Teddy's team is in last. Nobody else gets any shots because Teddy's a ball hog. He fights his own team for every rebound. And hates coming out of the game, even if he's on a cold streak or exhausted. Laying in the jacuzzi after the game, bitching to his agent on his cell phone. The team's trainer casually knocks a plugged-in lamp into the tub.

It was fourth grade recess league softball, and I managed to avoid my name sticking to any roster. The teachers didn't know what to do, so they asked if I'd be an umpire. "No," I said. But they made me do it anyway. "Strike!" I shouted after every pitch, even ones that hit the plate. The principal, who was pitching, had me move next to him. "Strike!" I continued to shout. A gang of other kids joined the chorus. "Strike! Strike! Strike!" they shouted mockingly. "Oh, good," I said. "You can take over then." And I walked home from school.

Johnny started a TikTok account and posted all kinds of things, but he wasn't getting any views. So, he started posting videos of fires. Burning cars. Burning buildings. Burning parks. This got him a lot of views. But the other people posting videos of those fires also got lots of views. And some of them got more views than Johnny. So, he burned down their houses. Eventually, Johnny got caught. As he sat in his cell, he smelled smoke. A fire alarm went off. Johnny yelled for a guard... to bring him his phone so he could post a video.

So, you want to stop school shootings? Metal detectors haven't worked. Guards haven't worked. Safe zones haven't worked. Lots of people are talking about taking away guns again. As if you could take away the guns. And even if you stop selling the big guns, there's still the guns out there. Background checks? Doesn't work for stolen COVID funds, won't work for guns. Stop smuggling? Every border has a price. So, I came up with another plan. Homeschooled kids don't bully their classmates. Homeschooled kids don't shoot their classmates. Take away schools. And you take away the classmates to kill.