The Experiment (100 Words)

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The Experiment (100 Words)

Jackson walked through the lonely streets.

Wanting to learn more about his past, he volunteered for the dangerous experiment.

Scientists advised him of everything that could go wrong. They never suspected everything would go right.

Total recall, perfect memory; some said it couldn’t be accomplished.

Yet, long lost memories rushed through him like light through a prism.

Lost loves, toddler falls, even prenatal sensations.

He lived trapped in an eternal state of nostalgia.

They told him he would recall every memory.

No one warned him he would relive every pain.

Jackson finally understood some things are meant to be forgotten.

 

Photo taken from Google Images

Pluto

Surface-of-Pluto

Pluto

Astronaut Jack Archer stared through the cracked window. The sun appeared like a bright yellow pin prick in the universe.

The ship’s lights flickered.

After the damaged suffered on the rough landing, power may last days or hours.

Archer knew the risks when he volunteered for this mission. He didn’t care.

Life on Pluto couldn’t be any colder or more desolate than living on Earth without his late wife.

He clipped her photo to the dashboard. He would be happy to die admiring her face.

She would bring him eternal peace.

Power suddenly shutoff.

Infinite darkness invaded the tiny vessel.
.

 

Don Luccini’s Daughter (100 Words)

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Don Luccini’s Daughter

A man in control of his universe, Don Gino Luccini’s accent caressed every syllable, “Why are you here?”

Ray Gamba admired Sofia Luccini’s portrait. “To bring this killer to justice.”

“Forget justice.” The angry Mafioso smirked. “Bring him to me.”

Gamba squirmed. The alluring young lady in the painting appears to look back at him.

“I will pay you handsomely for delivering Sofia’s killer.”

“Forget your dirty money,” he cursed. Luccini would never understand I loved his daughter.

“Detective, you have no idea how I feel.”

Gamba sighed, if you only knew how I feel after accidentally shooting your daughter.

 

Photo taken from Google Images.

The Mirror (100 Words)

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The Mirror

Henry watched his wife stand before the magic mirror he purchased at the antique shop. The shopkeeper assured him she would love it.

Glowing, Samantha admired her youthful reflection minus every wrinkle and twenty pounds. Platinum blond replaced thinning white hairs. Her leathery skin worn by time, appeared soft and radiant.

“If only I still looked this way.” Samantha passed her withered hand across her aged face, “I was flawless.”

He smiled.

“Look at my reflection. See how beautiful I was twenty years ago.”

“I don’t need the mirror,” Henry replied. “I can see how beautiful you are from here.”

Spooning

Couple-spooning

Spooning

Half awake or half asleep, I smiled. Every exquisite angle of her curvy body aligned with mine, like jigsaw pieces from heaven entwined as one. There appeared to be no wasted space between us as if our sleeping bodies made sure to fill in every unwanted gap. How appropriate. We were never meant to be separated; not even in our sleep.

The sweet scent of her long hair awakened my senses. And again I smiled.

There is nothing better than spooning, well, unless you’re forking.

 

Photo found in Google Images.

The Brightest Star (100 Word Story)

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The Brightest Star

 

Derek walked up to the bar, desperate to drown his loneliness. “Beer please. Any beer will do.”

The bartender returned with a bottle of Blue Moon.

Derek groaned. Of all the beers in the pub, this is what the bartender served an astronomer. Obviously, he wasn’t permitted to forget his work tonight.

Looking across the room, he smiled.

She sat alone at the end of the bar; radiating beauty, attracting him with her personal gravity from light years away.

He didn’t need a telescope to know the truth.

She was the brightest star in the universe of a crowded room.

 

 

The Typewriter

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The Typewriter

“Police are searching for escaped convict Leticia Decker, otherwise known as the Lafayetteville’s Lizzy Borden.”

Lonely Mike Dawson shut off the old dusty radio. After twenty two best selling horror novels, he preferred to rummage through his cluttered attic than stare at a blank page.

Lifting a sheet off a table he discovered an old typewriter. “Look at this.”

With one finger he typed D-A-R-K.

His flashlight suddenly died out.

“What the…” Dawson smacked the flashlight several times. It refused to work.

Dawson grabbed the typewriter, stumbled out of the attic, returning to his writing den. Filled with excitement, he accidentally bumped into the door causing it to shut.

Placing the typewriter on his desk, he shoved the laptop aside. He slid a sheet of paper in the type writer feed and spun the platen knob and typed.

Moonlight crept through the open window.

The desk slowly became brighter.

Dawson turned to face the open window. He watched the parting clouds reveal the full moon.

He realized he had discovered infinite power. Cracking his knuckles, Dawson typed with passion.

The young siren knocked on the door.

He heard heavy knocking.

The voluptuous woman let herself into the house. She slowly climbed the stairs, her footsteps announced her arrival.

Heavy shoes walked up the squeaky wood stairs, growing louder with every step.

Like an inspired conductor before the orchestra, Dawson typed with vigor and style. Tonight he would create a masterpiece.

She was young, beautiful, and full of desire.

Dawson laughed out loud. Tonight, his life would change forever.

No doubt she would be the death of him.

A bloody axe crashed through the door.