#100WW - Mar 19, 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 – Mar 19, 2025”
Family Branches
That couple married below flowering branches and split up under a tree festooned with paper teeth. Not legally, but the spirit of their union departed that day, already divorced from love. At their wedding, he said the white petals looked like they were standing to praise her. The other tree? They crafted it to distract their twins after a double dentist visit of stinging and prodding and wet pain. It took up half the nursery wall. They were children then, with molars just coming in. The twins, that is. Though those two were still emerging, too, beneath those frail blooms.
(corrected version)
Eyes like Summer Storms
There is a certain type of flower I’ve only ever seen grow on the small branches of Old Pearl, and they only started growing there after Pearl herself, Mabel and Rory’s Grandmother, was said to have drowned right below that tree. It is just seven flowers that bloom for only three days: they sprout up right out of the delicate bark, with leaves the colour of Irish fields and petals that deep blue colour of a stormy summer sky. Have you ever seen a picture of Pearl? She had eyes that looked right into a person, eyes like Summer Storms.
shadesofgreen@bsky.social
Eyes like Summer Storms
There is a certain type of flower I’ve only ever seen grow on the small branches of Old Pearl, and they only started growing there after Pearl herself, Mabel and Rory’s Grandmother, was said to have drowned right below that tree. It was just seven flowers that bloomed for only three days: they sprouted up right out of the delicate bark, with leaves the colour of Irish fields and petals that deep blue colour of a stormy summer sky. Have you ever seen a picture of Pearl? She had eyes that looked right into a person, eyes like Summer Storms.
I dreamt of spring—such a strange little telling; blind, blue-eyed flowers straight from the dark brows of doom into a gentle dance. A swaying arabesque—so soft were its April eyes upon the woodland, its shock of white from a blackthorn’s blossom.
There’s always a romp, a bird’s pantomime between branch and bough—a secret song, like some hidden lute of a naiad’s disguise. A fern, or moss, or a glint of gold from daffodils.
And to those clouds of white ruff and windy shoulders, know this, spring’s frolic has just begun.
Here, where dreams turn true—strewn on the lawn—a broken daffodil.
@miskmask