#100WW - June 18, 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!
4 thoughts on “#100WW – June 18, 2025”
** Charlie **
Bringing Charlie home today meant we would sip on fresh ice-tea, flip through photo albums, and reminisce over childhood memories. Mom enveloped herself with a patch-work quilt as we cuddled on the porch.
Stories I had long forgotten spilled from her like they were yesterday. Racing down the dirt road to catch the ice-cream man for Klondike bars. Swinging branches at stones, pretending to be Willie Mays. Climbing the tree like monkeys to sling ropes for a swing.
My heart yearned for days past.
As the sun dipped, I carried Charlie into the house. His urn shouldered neatly against Dad.
Waiting Up for Reunion
Back in the fave place, the tree still stands tall. I get to the bigger swing to ease my tired limbs into it.
I see the boy then, pale, standing on this swing. Holding onto the chains tightly, he pretends to be brave looking up at you before giving the final push.
Up there in the climbing one, you’re enjoying yourself, a fairy in that flowery dress, waiting patiently for him.
That day the appearance of fog made him feel like he’d lost you!
***
The fog’s descended again! But I ain’t scared anymore, knowing you’re up there waiting for me.
Swing High, Sweet Chariot
Kitty loved to swing, wind through her hair. Never felt closer to God.
When Aurora was born, Kitty wanted her to experience the same breathless thrill. And more. She envisioned the cherubs carved into the top corner of the apse and wanted her baby to enjoy an equally heavenly perch.
She and Brent rigged a crude pulley system further up on the branch that allowed them to elevate the baby to even loftier heights once she started rocking.
In the State of Virginia there is a strong presumption towards custodial rights of the natural parents, but it is not irrebuttable.
Swingers
He loves to play jokes, hates to push in his chair. I always scold him about it. “It’s not that hard,” I say when he forgets again. Once he purposely set the chair in front of the refrigerator. It took me an angry millisecond to get it but then I caught on and laughed about it all day. So when I saw the baby swing strung ridiculously high in the tree after I’d asked him to lower it I climbed my way in and yelled his name. “Can you push me?” I asked as he stood grinning ten feet below.
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