#100WW - Mar 12, 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!
3 thoughts on “#100WW – Mar 12, 2025”
Still
Is there still a barn swallow nest on that sorry tree? Yes, that one there, that looks more connected to its mirrored limbs than its own roots. Remember ten months ago, the seven-year-old girl? Only seconds after it happened, other parents and siblings began savouring their relieved breaths. We’re still allowed to watch the glory of this slowing place, though. We can take it in without tasting it, as if we’re window shopping for a body of water. Look how the dark limbs sulk into the still pond, still waiting for swimmers that will never become climbers. Sorry, not here.
Old Pearl
Sorrow is a thing that lives in the blood, never leaves you or lessens. It’s like a pebble at the back of your eye, and once it’s lodged in, you can’t blink it away or close yourself off from the ache. This is the kind of sorrow that ran through Mabel and Rory. It came from their Grandmother Pearl, who drowned in the lake, on account of all that sadness being so heavy. There’s an ancient, weeping tree on the eastern bank that’s known as Old Pearl, whose branches reach below the surface, as if trying to pull someone out.
It’s only natural
The forests were being drained. Trees felled like petals of a flower. We love you, we love you not but it always ended with lack of love and understanding of how forests keep humans alive.
As the forests drained, even the lucky began to wither. Seasons meant nothing because leaves fell all year round until they were left exposed, naked even.
Nature, as it happens, fights back. So, the resistance built. Slowly and steadily. Just like nature itself. The trees were seen reaching out to the trickles of streams in an effort to hold back the water, their own lifeline.