#100WW - May 13, 2026
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.
Read and comment on others. Lastly, this is a positive forum for feedback!

2 thoughts on “#100WW – May 13, 2026”
Drink of the Gods
One spring, Hazel’s mother cut out cardboard butterfly wings glued with blue-green paper mache, strapped them onto her shoulders, and sent her outside. Rigid and heavy, Hazel couldn’t fly like her mother hoped, but she could twirl in the backyard milkweed with the other real butterflies which made her feel broken. Night after night she dreamt she, too, was a real butterfly, but with black wings, which made her feel wrong. Her mother kept sending her outside while her wings began to fade, and her dreams began to blur. Except the milkweed clouds glowed bright, cocooning her in divine nectar.
Spread Your Wings
William lugged bags of compost from the car to his aunt’s potting shed, where he watched a monarch flutter by, flapping against a cracked windowpane as it tried to flee. His grandmother sprung to mind, and something she said when this was her domain.
“You can’t keep a butterfly in a jar.” William presumed she was displaying her distaste for her husband’s hobby of trapping ephemeral beauty and pinning its corpse to a corkboard displayed under glass on his study’s wall. Ultimately, a statement about freedom; which it was, but not the butterfly’s.
She divorced my grandfather the following year.