The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Lisa Lizzie Richard Serendipidy Norval Joe Tom Planet Z The next topic is PICK TWO Express, In my hand, Expected, Cut and dried, Desiccation, Blocker LISA All Our Tomorrows I’m not sure if it was the heat from the fire, or fumes, or if I was just overwhelmed by being out of the basement but I felt really light headed. In his explanation he kept repeating that he’d chosen us and the importance of ‘all our tomorrows’. That particular phrase was repeated over and over again. Later, he led us up a very grand staircase. We had a bedroom each. Mine had a massive double bed and a sofa in it. The weirdness wasn’t the opulence though; it was being separated from the others after being so very close. LIZZIE We gathered by the fire. Questions and more questions. One wanted this, the other that. And we all shared our fears and our hopes. There was laughing, crying, and yelling too. Not many believed we would make it out there. We all shook our head. We all chuckled. We knew. They didn't. We would make it! When the nurse came with the pills for the evening, we all agreed not to take them. The nurse said, take the pills, come on. And... I stood there alone. The others ran and hid in the darkest corners of my mind. The cowards. RICHARD Undated We spent an absolute fortune on the new computerised diary system. The programme basically runs the whole business. We're totally reliant on it, which - if you ask me - is never a good thing. Every meeting, appointment and booking, past present and future are managed by the system. All our tomorrows, yesterdays and todays: categorised, organised and optimised, and all supervised by the system to ensure maximum effective use of time and resources. Neat, huh? Until the system goes down. Like it did today. And the engineer can't come until Wednesday. So, at least for the time being, tomorrow is cancelled. SERENDIPIDY The photo album tells the whole story. Every page, full of special moments; memories of times past, the family happy together, smiling and loving life. Every page, that is, right up until the day our lives crossed with his. And then, everything changed, forever. After that, just blank pages. No more photographs, no more happy smiles, no more family. All our tomorrows, wiped out in an instant. My family, destroyed. And, myself, the only survivor. And him? He's doing just fine. Or, so he thinks. Because I'm on a mission to get even. So, let's see what tomorrow will bring. NORVAL JOE Like a plot twist in the telenovela, Todos Nuestros Mañanas, as Billbert touched Sabrina's hand, her eyes flashed open and she tried to sit up. She shouted in pain and the monitors flashed and beeped. Lightning struck a tree outside the window and thunder rattled the room. The nurse rushed in. "I'm sorry, Billbert. You'll have to leave." Sabrina clutched Billbert's hand, gasping, "No. He has to stay." The nurse scowled and reset the monitors. Sabrina's heart rate and respirations had begun to normalize. "I can't explain why," Billbert said. "But I need to stay, for a while at least." TOM When you get to the fork in the road Sister Fran was a devotee of the ancient sage Yogi of Berra. His collective works were some of few written records from the past that survived. Fran spent hours in deep contemplation on each of the holy koans. She read the gold leaf script with head bowed. The future ain’t what it uses to be. A soft wind blew through the arched window of the monastery. As the western sun melted in the forest she lifted her head. With silver ink Fran wrote the following: All our tomorrows were yesterday. I have taken the fork oh great sage, She mused. PLANET Z Mrs. Rettig asked each student to bring in a calendar. At the end of every day, she'd give out stickers. Green for good, yellow for needs improvement. I got a lot of red and black stickers. At the end of the year,

Having Asperger's and parents who were in denial about it will mess you up. They were proud of my perfect brother, but ashamed of me. My father would tell people that I was from his wife's first marriage, so don't look at him. My mother would tell people that I was from her husband's first marriage, so don't look at her. I was the sick joke they shared. So when my father died and my dementia-ridden mother was left destitute, the retirement home called. "Don't look at me," I said. "I'm from her husband's first marriage." And I hung up.

When I was two, my mother forced me into summer swimming lessons. It was at the community pool, and she'd deliberately park far from the entrance. The blacktop was hot, and I cried in pain as I burned my feet. The only sandals I got were the ones she hit me with. So I ran from her abuse, nearly getting run over several times. Finally making it to the cool wet grass at the lot's edge, I kept running. She caught me, and hit me more. I never learned how to swim. And I never learned to stop hating her.

When my mother wasn't dumping me in daycare while she bowled, it was in front of the TV. The television wasn't just my babysitter, but it was my teacher. I watched Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street and Romper Room. Learning really stupid things. One lesson was that a puppet cop could hold up his hand and stop traffic. So when I ran out in the street in front of our house and played Monkey In The Middle, all I needed to do was hold up my hand. It didn't stop the spanking punishment. I spanked my stuffed Grocer in retaliation.

I used to boycott all of the companies that my father, the corporate attorney, was fired from. Instead of whacking off to Playboy bunnies, I whacked off to Penthouse pets. Instead of eating Wendy's heart attacks on a bun, I ate McDonalds or Burger King stroke sandwiches. Instead of Little Caesars, which peddled fried bread with cheese that was greasier than the family that owned the company, I ordered local pizza. And instead of Applebees and Sbarros microwaved restaurant entrees, I microwaved my own stuff. Now that the asshole is dead, I still boycott them. Because they make lousy food.

In addition to her depression, my mother suffered from seasonal affective disorder. And she was living in the Pacific Northwest, so the Winters were excessively dark compared to here. Not that I was going to invite her to move here. So, I said "Turn on a light." That wasn't enough. I then sent a big 4K television with a player and some wildlife and other scenery disks. By closing the windows, she could fool herself into thinking it was nice outside. When I visited, the disks were unopened, and my asshole father was watching football and porn on the TV.

My school had a senior project requirement. A brief internship at some business or organization you're interested in. I was interested in Science, so I planned a few weeks in their medical technology lab. Instead, my mother conspired with the program coordinator to dump me in a homeless shelter. Where I was attacked repeatedly, and once forcibly injected with heroin. These days, when bums on the corner beg for money, I hand out monopoly money. I donate the itchiest clothes and blankets to shelters. And drop cans of creamed beets and other disgusting things off at food bank donation drives.

Lisa Lizzie Richard Serendipidy Norval Joe Tom Planet Z The next topic is All our tomorrows RICHARD Beans I has beans every day, plenty of fibre in them, see. Scientists say it's good for you, all I knows is they makes me fart. Guess that's a good thing though: better out, than in, I says, just so long as you ain't downwind of me at the time. Ferocious, they are… pungent! But, I suppose that's one of the downsides of taking care of your body, occupational hazard, you might say. Of course, if I'm honest, it's not strictly true. I'm not really health conscious at all. I just loves my beans, with a passion. And farting, of course. SERENDIPIDY Just because we've been around for millennia, don't write us off. It doesn't mean that we're a bunch of has-beens. Even the forces of evil have to evolve with the times, otherwise how else are we going to stay relevant and a force to be reckoned with? Why do you think social media is so toxic, and there's so much disagreeable content online? As for the Dark Web, we invented it! One thing we won't touch though is artificial intelligence. We prefer to leave it well alone. Because we simply can't have AI taking over the world. That's our job! LISA Why Are We Here? "After the death of our parents, we partied. We partied pretty hard. We travelled. We travelled far and then returned here to the only house we’ve ever known feeling like has-beens. Thirty years old, stinking rich, and feeling like life had nothing left to offer us. It’s ludicrous, isn’t it?" He’d spoken for ages. The sofa, despite its softness, was feeling more uncomfortable than the basement. I felt I had to say something. My speech felt slurred when I spoke and the room felt a little blurry. “Where exactly do we fit in to this idea for a new community? LIZZIE The train station was still there. The door was locked. I peered through the window but couldn't see anything. The bike was rotting away at the usual place. The windsock was still flapping on the rusty pole. Back then I didn't understand why the station master wanted that windsock up there. Trains don't run on wind. The old station master would smile and say that the birds needed to know. But I never saw any birds. The station master would smile again and say, you don't? Look. And point to the sky. He saw birds, and that made me smile. TOM Cold Fusion In the land of the has beens is a tiny corner set aside for the never was-s. Rudy was in charge of this sad clump of lost souls. To be a has been you got to have been a been. Done something of at least marginal success. The never was-s came so close to that level, but just couldn’t get their head above the waters of failure. Rudy kept track of each “C-list” personality in an ever-growing ledger. Rudy got this gig after losing the Noble Prize seven times. I can’t quite remember what was his contribution to physics. 858 Millions of Arrows I am a fan of Japanese director Akira Kurosawa. After the war he set out to make films that would explain the American and European mindset. Seven Samurai was basically a western. Throne of Blood was a retelling of Shakespeare's Macbeth. In the over-the-top climax Generals Washizu played my Toshiro Mifune is driven mad by the trees of Spider's Web Forest "they have risen to attack us" he screams. A direct nod to Birnam Wood. What follows is millions of Arrows. End of the Magnificat Seven doesn’t hold a candle to Mifune's pitching about like a human pin cushion. NORVAL JOE Initially, everyone who passed Billbert sitting against the wall asked him what he was doing there. Hours later they all acted like he was invisible or just ignored him like he was some embarrassing has-been. Ten minutes before the end of visiting hours, a nurse opened the door. "Okay, Billbert. You have ten minutes. Then you need to leave." Sabrina lay as still as death in a yellow hospital gown.

Someone complained about Abraham Lincoln and his Gettysburg Address being on display in a university library, so the staff removed them, saying it had been part of a temporary exhibit, even though they had been on display for years. Then, at another library, a parent complained about Ru Paul's book, so the library pulled it from the shelves. People started complaining about everything, books, artwork, the chairs, the stairs... Pretty soon, there was nothing left in any library in America. Which offered plenty of room for drag queens to read stories to little kids. Until someone complained about that, too.

Someone smashed my car window and took some stuff. "Yeah, it happens," said the police. They gave me some paperwork to fill out. "Leave the doors unlocked," they said. "And don't leave anything in your car." My insurance company said "The deductible is five hundred dollars." So, I went to the repair shop, and they charged me... five hundred dollars. When they were finished, I smashed the store owner's car window. Then I drove to the insurance agent's office and smashed her car window, too. Because the police won't do anything, right? Oh, and they didn't leave their doors unlocked.

I remember a fireworks cake, long ago. When I was still too young to know better. "Those fireworks are for you," we'd say. The bruises on my face still sore from whatever transgression against her fragile, bitter ego. There's still a bit of red glitter in the car's cupholders. From the flowers I got her last year. The day that I found out she was a willing part of my father's plan to ruin me. They couldn't die fast enough. I should get the car fully detailed and cleaned out. And rid myself of her ghost once and for all.

When trailblazer Senator Betty Riley first went to Washington, she railed against the old men she was forced to suffer at the hands of. The sexist harassment and abuse, their constantly falling asleep in meetings, and carelessly letting their staffers run their offices. "You washed-up evil monsters!" she shouted. "You should retire to let fresh new perspectives in!" Fifty years later, decrepit and falling asleep in meetings, Betty let her own staffers run her office. Occasionally, they wheeled her to talk shows and woke her up long enough to shriek at detractors as being sexist and disrespectful of her elders.

Courtney raised a steer as part of her 4H classes. She never gave it a name or talked to it. Just wrote X on every form. It won competition after competition, until they got to the State Fair. They never managed a win there. But it did place, and at the auction, Courtney came away with enough scholarship money to pay her way through State. The steer ended up as steaks and burgers, and its horns adorned a Russian billionaire's golf cart. At her graduation, Courtney thanked her parents and her teachers. Not a single thought about X the steer.

So, kids are taking guns to schools and shooting their classmates and teachers. It doesn't matter if they were picked on, bullied, or abused. It's wrong. But for those people wanting to ban guns, well, it's impossible. And limiting magazine and clip sizes just means the kid carries more of them and reload. The solution is, of course, to build bigger and heavier guns. Ones that a kid can't carry. If it takes two or three kids to carry a gun, it can't be concealed easily. And maybe one of the kids will say "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

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?