100 Word Stories - Hospitality (Repost from Facebook, 22 November 2009)

In some cultures, it is a terrible insult to your host if you eat all the food on your plate at dinner. It says, “You are a stingy and unwelcoming host.” In other cultures, it is great praise. It says, “You are a generous and gracious host.”
As the honored guest at a ceremony of the Korowai of Papua New Guinea, I do not know which custom they follow. Frankly, I could not care less how much of me they leave on their plates. It is hardly the debate to have with oneself in the broth, amongst the root vegetables.

This was my entry for the prompt of "Hospitality" from the 100 Word Stories Podcast, Weekly Challenge #187 (for Week of 11/29)

100 Word Stories - Free-Fall (Repost from Facebook, 29 November 2009)

Wind whips past his ears, thundering out everything but the snapping of his nylon suit. Pure exhilaration: that’s why he dives. Kyle never tires of the initial thrill of leaping into open air. But that thrill was immediately crushed by an icy horror tearing through him. He had pulled the ripcord, but nothing had happened.
The mental impact of his new reality would be nothing to the physical impact of the ground’s reality, now rushing unnecessary, unwanted detail at his eyes. He whispers a prayer, hoping his being closer to Heaven will help. He grips the emergency cord, and pulls.

This was in response to the prompt of "Impact" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #188 (Week Ending 11/28/2009).

100 Word Stories - Setting a Scene (Repost from Facebook, 6 December 2009)

With the sun’s rising, the chirps and calls of insects, frogs, and birds rise through the forest. Collectively, the dewdrops lend the grass a velvety glow, resolving into tiny diamonds close up. The sunlight mixes with smoke hanging across the meadow; they become solid liquid vapor, and give the shadows crisp 3-dimensional shapes. A doe and fawn wander out of the forest canopy’s cover into the meadow’s openness. The sharp crack of a breaking twig snaps the silence. The doe freezes, ears swiveling and nostrils flaring, alert for the source of the danger, and the fawn bolts instinctively for cover.

This was in response to the prompt of "Smoke" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #189 (Week Ending 12/5/2009).

100 Word Stories - Stream of Consciousness (Repost from Facebook, 16 December 2009)

Let’s see… What’s the Weekly Challenge this week…? Hmm… “Work”… Huh. One of those “broad-strokes” topics. I like those: they don’t shove you in a particular corner. There are so many directions I could go…
…“Hard work”…
…“Yard work”… 
…“Job I hated”…
…“Job I loved”…
…”Old job”…
…”New job”…
You know what? Just give me some direction!
…Wait a minute. This is an easy topic! I could write any story I can think of, and just work the topic in- wait: -“work”- the topic in. That gives me an idea: how many words am I up to? …98, 99, 100!


This was in response to the prompt of "Work" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #190 (Week Ending 12/12/2009). It was meant to reflect my torment of dealing with the topic, and the idea that was inspired by the epiphany illustrated in the story.
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Another one that was mostly about getting through Writer's Block. Again, I think it qualifies as "anything".

100 Word Stories - "Hold Your Tongue" -or- "Overreact Much?" (*advisory* *implied violence and dark theme*) (Repost from Facebook, 21 December 2009)

I re-awoke at the shock, ice-cold water mixing with warm blood and sweat. The pain that knocked me out re-awoke as well. I winced. I fought to open my eyes against the swelling. It was pointless: the light was in my face; everything was shades of black.
“Put your hands through the armholes.”
“Why?”
“So the fire ants can bite you.” – “No? OK. ‘Or else’.” He back-handed me, then squeezed my cheeks, forcing my broken jaw open. I winced again.
“Whaih?”
“Ah – Because…” He slid a forceps between my toothless gums, grabbing my tongue and pulling. “You insulted my hat.”

This was in response to the prompt of "Hat" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #191 (Week Ending 12/19/2009). It's a bit more grim than most of my stories, but I actually found the "plot" of the story a little bit funny, so I couldn't resist. It started out as strictly 3rd person, but then I thought about making myself either the victim or the bad guy, and it just worked.

100 Word Stories - The Perils of a Paper Bag Awaiting Recycling in the Moonlight (Repost from Facebook, 28 December 2009)

Ow! Watch it, buddy! Oh, good gravy. It’s another dumpster diver. Scavenger! It must be a full moon. They like the natural light to rummage by. I wish he’d be more careful; we don’t enjoy the groping, shoving, tearing, and the stick with the nail in the end, you know. My purpose in this life was to help a wino hide his bottle from cops and have him slosh and slobber on me. Now, to have this guy toss me aside for a 2-cent piece of glass or metal is humiliating. I hope I come back as a notebook.

This was in response to the combo-prompt of "a story told from the perspective of an inanimate object/paper sack/full moon/new beginnings" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #192 (Week Ending 12/26/2009).

100 Word Stories - Where’s a Weak Spot When You Need One? (Repost from Facebook, 5 January 2010)

He was led, still shackled, from a bright anteroom into the darkened arena. The chanting of the crowd echoed off the walls; the combined din throbbed in Plaq’s ears. His eyes began adjusting to the dimness. His captors dimmed the lights for this death match for the benefit of his owl-eyed opponent. For sadistic aliens, these creeps were annoyingly even-handed about their ritual sacrifices. They had even given him gauntlets so he could grip his foe’s mucus-covered body. “OK,” Plaq thought, “so I can grab it; if I don’t find some kind of weak-spot soon, I’m toast no matter what.”

This was in response to the combo-prompt of "mucus" and "eyes like an owl" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #193 (Week of 1/3/2010).

100 Word Stories - What a Jerk! (*advisory: mild language*) (Repost from Facebook, 9 January 2010)

Hell. Everyone’s got their own version of it. We’ve heard of the Greeks’ Underworld with Hades, a multi-headed dog, and the river of over-wrought music. Christians and Muslims have the fiery bowels of Hell itself. There’s enough ambiguity, Christians have added variations on the theme like Purgatory and Outer Darkness. Jews have a metaphorical pit of guilt and shame. Buddhists and Hindus have a sort of waiting room for punishments before coming back to Earth to take another crack at Nirvana.
Not even close. It’s an eternal game of Zobmondo, with literal consequences. Choose carefully: that Devil’s a bastard. Literally.

This was in response to the prompt of "Choose" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #194 (Week of 1/10/2010).

100 Word Stories - Unexpected Diversion (Repost from Facebook, 17 January 2010)

My name is [DETAILS REDACTED] –a, USA. Six years ago, halfway through a White House tour, I really needed to take a leak. So, I snuck off to find a toilet. On my way back, there was a man ahead of me, turning a corner. When I got there, it looked like a dead end – but I saw a panel closing, and a glimpse of a room behind it. There were Leprechauns on computers! Another man saw me, and the look on my face, and it all hit the fan. Before we knew, we were in [DETAILS REDACTED] –shire, England.

This was in response to the prompt of "I Saw It Move" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #195 (Week of 1/17/2010).

100 Word Stories - Gamers! (Repost from Facebook, 10 February 2010)

This story was not written for the 100 Word Stories podcast. It was part of an online forum contest. The challenge was to write a preciesly 100 word-long story about RPG's. This was inspired by my only attempt, so far, at being a GM.

Gamers!
GM: Sorry, you can’t use this character.
Player: Why not?
GM: Because this is a pirate adventure, and he’s a 13-year-old Chinese boy. In the Caribbean. In the 17th-Century. How did he get there?
Player: He’s on a journey of learning and spiritual self-discovery in preparation to becoming a Shaolin monk.
GM: Of course he is. But how did he get there?
Player: He decided he should go see this “New World” he’d heard of, and got captured.
GM: So now he’s a 13-year-old Chinese boy, captured by pirates! He’s gonna get passed around like rum.
Player: Oh…
GM: Yeah.
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My story was chosen as the winner of that little contest. It was a fun little feather to put in my cap, and I think I received a copy of a paperback novel about a Role-playing group's (mis-)adventures.

100 Word Stories - Show n' Tell (Repost from Facebook, 10 February 2010)

“Does anyone have anything for Sharing Time?” Miss Carson asked, hoping foul-mouthed Marcus didn’t. She sighed as his hand rose. “Marcus. Would you like to share something?”
“You betcher a-“
“It’s ‘Yes, Ma’am’, Marcus.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Yesterday, Pa was shovelin’ horse shi-”
“Manure, Marcus.”
“Sorry, Ma’am – manure. Anyway, the horse didn’t like him standing behind her a-”
“Her hindquarters, Marcus.”
“Yes, Ma’am – hindquarters. So, she kicked him in the bal-”
“Groin, Marcus!”
“Sorry, Ma’am – groin. He fell back and landed on an over-turned milk stool. The leg went right up his a-”
“Rectum, Marcus! Rectum!”
“Rectum? It darn-near kilt ‘im.”

I know it's not an original joke. This was in response to the prompt of "Kilt" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #196 (Week of 1/24/2010). I didn't feel like I could write a good story that involved actual kilts. Call it Writer's Block. And I've been told the best treatment for that is to just write anything. I guess this qualifies as "anything". I think you can probably guess the sort of story I would have come up with if the topic had been "barium".

100 Word Story - Epiphany of the Modern Day *Advisory - PG-13, Inferred Sexual Content and Alcohol Use* (Repost from Facebook, 10 February 2010)

He awoke with a groan. “What a night,” he thought. His mind brought him memories through the haze. “Mm, ‘Lacee’.” Through his hangover, he marveled that someone so hot had gone home with him, but he wasn’t about to complain.
He got up without disturbing his impromptu bedmate. As he stumbled toward the bathroom, he tripped on something fabric. It wasn’t silky, lacy or sexy. It was beige, stretchy and utilitarian: Spanx. He scanned the room: push-up bra, falsies, auburn wig. He quickly realized that last night’s “hotness” was not in his bed, but in pieces all over his room.

This was in response to the prompt of "Whatever you choose" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #197 (Week of 1/31/2010).

100 Word Story - Food Wars (Repost from Facebook, 10 February 2010)

Have you ever wondered where those disgusting cultural delicacies came from? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway:
Every culture hates or fears foreigners, and each developed a way to intimidate them. Drinking games didn’t last long. It became a contest of edible one-up-man’s-ship, a culinary arms race, a game of gastronomic chicken. But you won’t recognize any chicken on that battlefield. The Britons have Blood Pudding. Hispanics have Menudo. Southerners have Chitlins. The Scots entered the war with Haggis. Koreans have Kimchi. The world didn’t know what to do when the Chinese brought animal penises. An immediate armistice was demanded.

This was in response to the prompt of "Haggis" from the 100 Word Podcast Weekly Challenge #198 (Week of 2/7/2010). I would have continued listing foods and countries or cultures, but that's why there's a 100-word limit.

100 Word Stories - Old Preacher's Oak (Repost from Facebook, 18 February 2010)

There’s a town in the valley with a peculiar tree growing amidst the ruins of a church. Its origin is so unique the town’s name changed from Johnson’s Elbow to Big Preacher’s Oak.
Long ago, in another village, a precocious girl named Esther was given a Wishing Stone by a hermit. He told her, “This will grant your heart’s true desire. But,” he warned, “You mustn’t cast your wish higgledy-piggledy.”
Finally, Esther knew what she wanted: this traveling preacher’s daughter was tired of traveling. Pinching the stone, she whispered, “I wish Papa would put down roots here in Johnson’s Elbow…”

This was in response to the combination prompt of "Whatever you choose..."/"Higgledy-piggledy"/"Tree" from the 100 Word Stories Podcast Weekly Challenge #199 (Week of 2/14/2010).
This was inspired by a sci-fi/fantasy-type story from a grade school Reading textbook. Feel free to let me know what you think.

100-Word Story - Fiddling Around (Repost from Facebook, 6 March, 2010)

“What have I got in my pockets?” The stranger casually fingered through his clothes, pretending to look for money he knew wasn’t there. Zara waited patiently, her fiddle dangling casually from her fingers.
Her offer seemed implausibly generous to him: a song for the largest bill in his pockets, sight-unseen. He wondered how she made a living; like most people, he didn’t carry cash anymore. During this distraction, Zara waggled her fingers surreptitiously. A now-familiar shock came over his face as he pulled a twenty from otherwise-empty pockets. She hid a smirk, pocketed her fee and played him his song.

This was in response to the of "What Have I Got In My Pockets?" from the 100 Word Stories Podcast Weekly Challenge #201 (Week of 2/28/2010).

100-Word Story - Geek-Child vs. Homophones (Repost from Facebook, 6 March 2010)

Every spring, I relive my greatest shame. When I was 9, I heard there would be try-outs at Yankee Stadium for “Batboys”. I couldn’t believe it: my lifelong dream of the past 6 years had come true. Amidst daydreams of patrolling our fair city by moonlight alongside our own caped-crusader (one I didn’t even know we had), I prepared my home-made costume for the auditions. It had to be perfect, naturally. I was so excited I could barely eat. I arrived an hour early; upon seeing the other kids, I refused to get out of the car. I hate baseball.

This was in response to the prompt of "Bats" from the 100 Word Stories Podcast Weekly Challenge #202 (Week of 3/07/2010).
I was really torn for most of the week about all the different ways you could interpret the word 'bats'. I considered the nouns: the club used to strike balls, the flying mammal; the verbs: what a baseball player does with the aforementioned club, what a cat does with objects it toys with, what a girl does with her eyelashes. I finally came up with a story the uses that confusion as the basis for the story.

Cameron, or the Cat? (Repost from Facebook, 21 March 2010)

We had a cherished guest leave our house this morning:
He was relaxed and easy-going. He made himself at home. He laid around a lot. He ate a lot. He slept a lot. He was potty-trained. He was mostly quiet. Sidny certainly didn't care for him, avoided him at all times, and hissed if he got too close, mostly out of fear and uncertainty.

He left this morning at around 10:30. We expect to see him again, probably not too far off. But his visits will probably be short and sporadic, but will be cherished for the time we have with him.

It doesn't matter who I'm actually talking about, because whoever you think I'm referring to, you're right.
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This was in response to a stray cat from our neighborhood following my stepson up to our apartment and coming right in and making himself at home. Within a day or two of this, we missed him so much, my wife sent me out to track him down and bring him home. We helped him clean up, got him fixed and vaccinated and he has been a happy member of our little, furry family for four years and one month now.

100-Word Story - Watch Your Back (Repost from Facebook, 28 March 2010)

“Thank the Gods,” sighed Marc, as he narrowly avoided a small hole.
“Give it a rest, will you?” pleaded Geoff.
“What?” asked Marc.
“All that ‘By the Gods’, ‘Thank the Gods’, ‘Gods be praised’ rubbish,” Geoff snapped. “It’s nonsense, and ridiculously pretentious. You only started it after that ‘Ancient Mythologies in Modern Times’ class. You sound like an utter knob.”
Marc scowled as Geoff finished ranting. They continued walking down the street, but silently now. Behind Geoff’s back, Marc mumbled a curse by the Gods under his breath, and Geoff fell down an open manhole.
“I hate you,” Geoff groaned.
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This was in response to the prompt of "gods" from the 100 Word Stories Podcast Weekly Challenge #204 (Week of 3/21/2010).

Repost (from Facebook, 27 June 2011) Goodbye, Old Friend

I saw "Marley & Me" for the first time last night. "Saw" might be stretching it - it was on while I was grilling the corn and hot dogs for dinner. We sat down to eat just in time for the final trip to the vet's office. I HATE THAT MOVIE! I will never watch it again. All I could think about was Benson, and how I wasn't able to be there for him when we passed. For all I knew, he thought I had just disappeared. He hung on as long as he could for me to come back and see him again, but he couldn't hang on long enough. (I couldn't help but think of Coco and Charlie, Sandy and Tiger, too. That didn't help.) I miss you, Benson. I loved you as much as any other little boy could love his dog. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.

Fund Anything! I'm raising funds

I have decided to be more proactive about using my time more positively. My current job runs on a 4x10 schedule, so I have three days off every week, and they're all in the middle of the traditional work week. Left to my base and inherent instincts and proclivities, I would spend them doing very little in the way of positive activity. Mostly, so far, and shamefully, I have spent the majority of my time fiddling around on Facebook and the wider interwebz and watching TV, mixing in some household chores, etc. to keep our domicile running smoothly. That's not acceptable. Not only is it completely selfish, it's wasteful. This was recently brought to glaring truth when I was taken off work temporarily to rehab from a sprained back, when I realized I was doing almost nothing differently from my typical days off before the injury. Pathetic. I can do better.
So, I have decided I will do better. Along those lines, and considering the lost wages, I remembered FundAnything. It's a groovy website where people can create a fund-raising campaign for literally anything they want. It's very much like Kickstarter, except that you don't have to reach your goal to receive the funds you raise with FundAnything. So, I can use crowd-sourced funding to help motivate me to be productive and expand my mind, and hopefully, bring in a little bit of money to help us pay our bills. I wanted to be modest about it, so I set what I felt was a realistic and reasonable goal: $1000. This is less than our monthly rent, but a little more than one of my bi-weekly paychecks. Most importantly, it's enough to get back to a position of financial security we have been lacking. My campaign can be found here.
And, since I have included a link to this site with my campaign, I will be posting some samples of my writing for those who are considering donating to my cause to see what they might receive.