Tag: 100 word story

Funny?

Chris Hall53 Comments

Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot

It was the middle of the day and the middle of the week. Always the same, just like clockwork. Only the obvious tasks. She would remove the slightly drooping flowers on the top few steps. She’d already brought some new ones to freshen it up.

She looked up to the tall windows and beyond, she said a little prayer, closing her eyes.
But then it happened, and so quickly.

She walked back, slipped and tripped.
Her beautiful blooms were held up.

But, oh dear.

Her bloomers were on show, just as the old rabbi appeared.
What a confusion…
Oops, indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Anectdote
Word Count: 100

10 October 2025

Going Up!

Chris Hall32 Comments

Photo Prompt © Dale Rogerson

A fascinating building, so tall and slick, and some interesting jutting parts. Most peculiar, but in a good way. Fast escalators and faster lifts, let’s not bother with those stairs – that’s too much time and time is money.

Staring at the window, so clear and sparkly, how would that work, she wondered?
It was her first day to work there, as she sat down in her cubicle.

She had many tasks to do, working flat out for more than two hours. Then a voice appeared, ‘you might like to join us by the window.’

And, of course, that’s history now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

3 October 2025

Just dusting…

Chris Hall47 Comments

Photo Prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

She’d been humming in an off-key, as she dusted in the music room, moving things around a bit, but not too much. ‘Well, a job is just a job,’ she muttered to herself, as she decided to listen to the radio.

The music was rather bland, strange that it was tuned to that particular station. ‘What nonsense,’ she mumbled, while tuning further.

‘Ah that’s a bit better,’ as she started to hum again.

Her dusting became more vigorous and more animated.
The music felt almost alive.
Suddenly she grabbed the nearest guitar, and she shouted, ‘I’m going to boogie down!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

26 September 2025

Who’s coming for dinner?

Chris Hall24 Comments

Photo Prompt © Sandra Crook

‘Something delicious to eat this evening,’ as they walked through the hall to the dining room and sat down.
‘We need to order, but we also need to do something else.’
‘True. We should crane around the tables and chairs.’
‘We maybe could have a little look in the library – there is one, isn’t there?’
‘Plus, we could also duck into the kitchen, we could see what is best.’

They stood up, leaving their napkins.
So what happen next?
.
.
.
‘I’ve got it,’ she said. ‘It’s me, Miss S in the hall, with the candlestick.
That’s it, we were playing Cluedo!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

19 September 2025

Those Guitars

Chris Hall47 Comments

Photo Prompt © Yvette Prior

‘Wow! What a sculpture.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Very much so.’

‘Is it made in bronze or copper, perhaps?’ He peered even closer. ‘Hold on. Are they real ones? I mean, real guitars?’
‘Sure.’
‘But how did you do it?’
The guy… the artist, shrugged his shoulders.
‘But, will you tell me… or is it a secret?’
‘Well, basically just lots of paint.’
‘Could I buy it? Although, I guess it’ll be very expensive.’
‘Not as much as you would think.’

‘Those guitars had been in a locker, but now no-one would pay anymore.
I got it for a song.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

12 September 2025

What a car!

Chris Hall46 Comments

Photo Prompt © Ted Strut

It was a good year, in fact, it was a great year, so many people said that.
Do you know why?
I will tell you.

Come, sit down here. Just next to me.
Ahh, such a booming town. Lively, busy, such a good place to be then.
He thought for a moment, and continued.
What a beautiful car. It was my first, you see. Very grand at the time. He smiled, showing his gums.

I wonder what happened to it.
You see, I don’t remember that.
Lots of things I don’t remember now.

Does anyone know?
I guess not now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Faction
Word Count: 100

5 September 2025

Another bar

Chris Hall61 Comments

Photo Prompt © Dale Rogerson

She had been staring for some time. She’d been cradling a large brandy glass, and it still wasn’t empty, it was warm and mellow, like she could’ve had a small cigar in the past. But that was long ago, it was so different then.

She watched the young things, who were dancing in the moonlight. She began reminiscing – so many ideas and plans, but nothing was real.

She put down her glass, as she took something out. She fiddled with it, and put it back again. Nothing worked.

She stood up, and walked away.
But no one saw her.

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

29 August 2025

What’s in that building?

Chris Hall50 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

‘That’s a big building.’
‘What’s in there?’
The two of them had been walking around, since they were on holiday and in another city.

‘Well, it’s open…’
‘… and free, apparently.’
Half way up they realised it was a new venture – art, lots of art.
‘It’s a gallery.’

‘Ooh look at these. Installations – and huge ones.’
‘But what do they mean?’
‘Do they mean anything?’

There was several storeys, and all very odd.
‘Gosh, look at these…’
‘… lots of mannequins and umbrellas.’
‘It’s called Art on the Roof.’

‘Beyond bizarre. That’s enough for me.’
‘Shall we go for lunch?’

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Hysterical Fiction
Word Count: 100

Just graves?

Chris Hall49 Comments

© J Hardy Carroll

I’ve always liked graves. Admittedly I’d only go in the daytime. But I’d be there from morning to evening, since I was a writer and it was such a peaceful place.

I’d write small stories, but they would be fun (mostly), while using my notebook and a couple of pencils. Nothing fancy like a laptop – not invented then.

But then I found that the darkness was even better. I’d fallen asleep and something had changed. After that it seemed that something else was required. But never mind about that.

Just have a look – my little fangs are so pretty!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

The Coming of the Rain

Chris Hall66 Comments

As the sun’s pink fingertips caress the tops of the purple mountains behind the cave, Owab is the first of the hunters to wake. Aquila waiting for him outside. The eagle bows and turns to the east, where a procession of wispy clouds rises with the dawn. Aquila takes to the air and Owab, in the thrall of his night-time vision, follows where his guide and protector leads.

When they return, Owab is leading a long-legged rain-cow which will bring soft raindrops to last a whole season.

The Great Bull bellows
rain swells the gathering clouds:
the parched land awaits.

This concludes my little African adventure, although I wouldn’t rule out a comeback for Owab and Aquila sometime in the future. You can find the previous episodes here.

Photo credit: John Fowler at unsplash.com/@wildhoney

Written in response to two challenges:

– Di of Pensitivity101‘s Wednesday’s Three Things Challenge – WISP, CARESS, FINGERTIPS
– Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge‘s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt – SEASON

I also set myself the additional challenges of confining my piece to 100 words exactly and writing in the haibun form. Just for fun!

Read more Six Sentence Stories here at the Link Up Party!