#100WW - Feb 5, 2025
photo prompt
100 word story
Write something that moves us in exactly 100 words, inspired by the photo above!
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Rules Are Simple
- Precisely 100 words (title excluded)
- Give it a Title
- Submit Story in Comment Box
- Include your X (Twitter) handle
- One entry (per person) per week
when
New prompts appear each Wednesday on the blog at 12 am EDT.
where
Post your entries in the comment box of the current week's prompt.
why
Foster connections and healthy habits of creativity.
100 Word Wednesday
Write something that moves us, and tell an entire story with only 100 words. Most importantly, share a story that begs to be read and reread!
#100WW Use hashtags and share on social! #comelaydownink
We nominate for awards, including Best of The Net. All submissions are considered for publication online and in our print mag.
Alternatively, we also have a New Submission Form for 100 Word Stories. With this in mind, submit only one story per month via the form. However, we encourage you to participate weekly on our blog in addition to one monthly submission.
On the first Wednesday of each month, we publish 2 selected 100 Word Stories (1 from submissions and 1 entry from the 100 Word Wednesday weekly prompts on the blog.)
Read other entries and comment on others. Lastly, this is a positive forum for feedback!
6 thoughts on “#100WW – Feb 5, 2025”
Wow! You really packed a lot into that piece. Well done.
THE LAST EMBRACE
Basirat sat on the floor of her mother’s room. Confused, The three year old didn’t understand why the strange visitors shouted and cried. She only wanted her mother’s warmth but it seemed the visitors had hidden her away. So she slept.
Later, she woke up to her mother’s voice and ran into her arms. Silently, Her mother carried her away and as the house shrank behind them, Basirat smiled and slept.
Moments later, A female cry erupted, shouts followed, and soon a rumor spread— a young girl named Lily had lost both her mother and sister on the same day.
X: @a_majekadegbe
Wait Until Dark
On a visit to an ancient city, she dragged me out, early in the morning.
“Let’s go while the tourists are busy snoring, or wolfing down breakfast!”
We took selfies against the majestic building and posed with the blue skies.
Exhausted from the trek, we checked our health trackers and high-fived. Ten thousand steps defeated.
In the evening, it was my turn. I pulled out my trusty DSLR and asked her. “Can we go back to the museum?”
“Why? Nothing much to see in the dark there.”
“Darling,” I whispered, “Photography is like love, it develops best in the dark.”
PHOTOGRAPHY 101
Night school birthed photography. I learned that f-stops were halves of each other. A mathematical principle I applied to ordering a pizza—an eight inch pizza (f-8) being half the size of an eleven inch pizza (f-11). What was once bothersome camera clicks of posed family portraits, shutter speed became a way to hold open the curtain of life, the aperture, to see how life danced before me. Dance required a partner, so I’d go into the world with my Canon and tripod, in darkness setting up the tripod to photograph a pointed roof poking the stars of city lights.
Veneer
The city is always more beautiful at night. Darkness hides the graffiti and grime. Lights glitter like houses at Christmas when strings of white circle around trees, outline roofs.
During the holidays there was a girl in my neighborhood who walked the streets after sunset. She always stopped in front of our house to gaze at our tree. It was lit with multicolored bulbs and positioned in front of the picture window. I could see her breath. I could see her eyes sparkling with suburban fantasies. She didn’t know that, like everything else in our lives, the tree was fake.
@meeshmeyerwrites (IG)
Watch
If Rory was the sun, then Mabel, his twin, was midnight. She had always been drawn to the moon and its magic, to the hours when darkness sank its teeth into the landscape and quiet reigned. She sang like a bird but moved like a cat. She had patience. She liked to watch. One night, Mabel watched a woman kill a man, watched the whisper of the blade as the woman slipped it from her pocket into her attacker’s soft belly. She watched the man’s eyes go wide with disbelief, watched his blood pool in the shadows around his feet.
shadesofgreen@bluesky