I paint you by numbers, capture your features one by one… from the fair Irish skin; to the coal-black hair; to the rich, ruby lips; and the fiery-, emerald-green eyes.

Betrayed, my grip clenches. I see, I know your colors. I see, I know your lack of them.

From Guest Contributor Keith Hoerner

Back against the wall, arms at my sides, and my heart pounding in my throat and toes, I closed my eyes and let him explore the soft wetness of lips, the tight reluctance of tongue. My fingernails dug into my thighs, the way love, or maybe obsession, forces its way into the folds of your brain, seeping into your consciousness and taking over everything you thought you knew about yourself.

He caressed my hair and my face. The ground gave way, an unexpected and fragile molehill, and I found myself.

From Guest Contributor Stacy Gorse

The chair he was standing on kept wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance it was difficult but so far he was okay. He thought about his wife leaving him taking the kids one rainy day. His job as a salesman kept him on the road but he missed them and was always happy to walk through that front door until she left.. Damned he almost fell there this chair is dangerous. He thought about how they would not know he’d changed his mind if only he could get the damn rope around his neck untied lord forgive me!

From Guest Contributor Derrick Fernie

As the videostream it was broadcasting ended, ComStar-88b paused. The final frame – explosions flowering across the Earth – stood frozen in its buffer.

ComStar-88b broadcast its news to the dead planet below for one more minute, before finally going dark.

From Guest Contributor Simon Kewin
Science Fiction and Fantasy Author

Once upon a time, Prince Candy met Princess Cotton at tea in the zoo. During a lovely flirtation, luscious Prince Candy realized dusk about to fall and quickly strutted away. Now, wise Princess Cotton had secretly tied twine around Prince Candy’s ankle. Following the twine through the zoo, she found it now tied to a peacock’s leg. Though the peacock screeched and pecked, she knew it was her beloved bonbon. As the sun rose, she kissed his beak changing him back into her sweet beau. Vowing unending love, they lived happily ever after, producing bundles of brightly colored cotton candy.

From Guest Contributor D. K. White-Atkinson

Reflected by the low sun, her chair cast almost mechanical shadows.

We both sat grinning at the crumbs on our plates.

From Guest Contributor Christoctopus

I have gotten myself into trouble over the years, forgetting simple little things like Valentine’s Day, wedding anniversaries, and such. Yes, her birthday too but only sometimes.

Today is the anniversary of my first marriage. What to do now?

From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell

Barry is an actor who sometimes writes, living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry’s stories appear in Cyclamens and Swords, The Flash Fiction Press, 101 Words, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.

My grandfather liked to paint lead miniatures, redcoat British riflemen and coal-colored Zulu warriors with brilliant spears. He would wax poetic about square formations and Michael Caine, talk about each individual figure as though they led deeply introverted lives. On hot summer mornings I’d wake with my child’s eyes and see: all those soldiers shifted from their positions, playing out an historical drama that only my grandfather knew. Grandfather survived the brutality of the Pacific Theater. Now he lays forever asleep, something inanimate, molded by ancestral pressures unknown, moved with care, another lead actor in some endless recursive performance.

From Guest Contributor John K. Webb

Back to school shopping.

Where was I? In the elevator with the family, hearing their conversation as it unfolded to the public.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, and Espresso stories.

“A single nuclear device, including laptop computer, can fit inside a standard 20-foot shipping container. There are 1,250 shipping containers on a regular container ship. Now if you look at this photo what do you see?”

“Our doomsday machine.”

Barry O’Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia.

Barry’s other stories appear in Cyclamens & Swords, 101 Words, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story in 100 Words.