Carlos dragged the body onto the street. Veronica screamed about the neighbors, but if anyone was awake, it was because she was screaming. Besides, he didn’t care who knew.

Veronica screamed again. It made Carlos mad to see her crying for her father, but he’d never admit to a mistake.

Today, we’re deviating from the 100-word format. Today’s story is exactly 81 words, and is a submission for this writing site.

The girls in accounts are crying.

Satisfied with his bonus, he savors the delicious memory of making the girls cry.

From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell

Barry is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. The acting experience has inspired a latent desire to write. Barry is enjoying the challenge of writing in 100 words.

The boy, prescient and wise, child of a dove, knew this day was coming, when the neighborhood man would tear into his school and wave his weapon and laugh like a hyena and cut down everything that stood in his path. The man yearned to be young but lived encaged in the zoo of lost innocence, and given arms and a rare safari he had to take lives, lives that betrayed his by existing where he could no longer be. So the boy absented himself on the dreaded day, warned the principal, who wouldn’t listen, watched the news, and cried.

From Guest Contributor, Curt Klinghoffer

The translators were the most advanced units available. Miranda had insisted on that. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been fully tested yet and were still buggy.

Now the priest was speaking more gibberish. Miranda wanted to cry.

I’m in a hurry so this story needs to be fast, because in the twenty-three years I’ve worked as a city bus driver, I’ve never been late, not counting of course the day my wife went into labor, but this morning as I was leaving the station a little girl was standing in front of the bus–I figured she was probably ten years old, and that would have been how old…well you can’t expect me to talk about that–forcing me to slam on the brakes and I was certain I’d run her over but when I hurried round to the front she was unharmed, though she was crying pretty hard and said that she was lost and needed my help so I followed her across the street to the city park, down a path I can’t remember ever having seen before into a place that was dark with ancient trees and cold and I was starting to get worried but she said this was the way home and she couldn’t get there by herself, so I took her by the hand and we walked together and even though she said she’d never been here before she was the one leading me through the darkness until we finally came to a warm, bright clearing where she stopped and said goodbye and I didn’t want to leave but she said that I had to go back and drive the bus and finally she told me her name was Hannah and that’s when I understood and today was the first day I’ve cried in ten years and now that I think about it I don’t really mind if for once I’m late to work.

Here’s another one sentence story. Enjoy!

Jason prided himself on always trying his best. His approach to the SAT was no different. Every night, he memorized 500 vocabulary words. Instead of comic books, he read test prep books in his spare time. He employed a tutor for $100 per hour.

Jason had a hard time accepting that no matter how hard you try at something, sometimes you’ll never be good.

Jeremy smiled. It had been many years since they had eaten dinner together like this, just the two of them. It generated a flood of memories.

It had seemed such a pleasant, trivial fortune: “You will make someone’s day.” Who wouldn’t want to make someone’s day? Janet cheerfully left the restaurant, ready to get back to work.

The Daily Theme from Figment for April 6

Write a fortune cookie fortune. Now write a story about a person who receives this fortune and then sees the prediction actually fulfilled.