Stephen had run out of work nearly an hour past and so resorted to tidying his inbox and creating email filters that would almost certainly remain unused after tonight. He thought about brewing another pot of coffee, but the late hour warned him against any more caffeine.

Mr. Campbell hated these encounters. Tomorrow he would call HR and have Stephen fired.

Johnny sat in the waiting room, with sweaty palms, anxiously awaiting the doctor’s results. His eyes searched the area and came across a plump brunette sneezing into her handkerchief. She stuffed it back into her purse and Johnny cringed. He hated germs.

Johnny, relieved, left, but not before sanitizing his hands with Purell.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

You timidly stepped inside the royal chambers, unnerved by the rumors of random beheadings and incoherent proclamations. Many people went for a sovereign audience and were never heard from again.

“Meow.”

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.

I did it. I killed her in cold blood. I hesitated at first, but she finally got on my nerves.

My office is a “No-Fly Zone.” No exceptions.

From Guest Contributor, Olga Klezovitch

Olga is a scientist who lives in Seattle. Her previous work has appeared in 50-Word Stories and Necon E-Books.

Rebecca hurried from the office. She jumped into the front seat of her car, tossed her bag down next to her, threw the key in the ignition, then suddenly paused.

When she finally pulled into her garage, Rebecca grabbed her bag and hurried into the house. She hoped the man would be gone by the morning.

The human resources division of Bigelow Industries decided that, considering the low morale of the company, it would initiate a musical theater program in the workplace. What better way to enliven an often dreary office than by forcing everyone to dress in costume and sing show tunes?

The depths of their humiliation truly had no end.

Joe toggled through the stations on Direct TV, waiting for something to catch his eye. He didn’t want to get caught up in another one of those History Channel documentaries. He needed something mindless after all the drama at the office.

After changing the batteries, Joe happily returned to his slow march to death.

Stan dragged Selena by the elbow through the front door of the mansion house. They both knew something was wrong. There wasn’t anyone to be seen, not even a body, as if the house had been abandoned.

Selena sat down on a stack of unread books and plotted her escape.

Part Ten

In the manner of all bloated bureaucracies, responsibility for the mistake was passed from desk to desk like a 12-year-old orphan moves through foster homes. Everyone knew it was a fireable offense and so the smart tactic was to duck under the nearest mound of paperwork whenever the department head glanced over. Eventually some new crisis would strike a floor or two above, and they’d all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Of course that left Brenda on the hook again. As PR manager, it was her job to explain how a toaster oven had murdered a family of five.