6,807/1,000,000 (0.6807%)

These short stories do not add much to the word count... Anyhow, some nonfiction this week. I haven't felt too inspired lately. I've written some that I haven't posted, and I'm not sure if I will. It isn't "finished," and that, after all, was the goal.

Swimming (100)

She was standing in a pool, waist-deep in the water. Friends and strangers surrounded her. The floor turned slick and she fell, head going under. She flailed, but couldn’t get a grip with her feet on the ground or her hands in the water. Suddenly everyone was too far away, too trapped in their own worlds to realize something was wrong. Her lungs burned as she struggled. She refused to breathe in water, but her body overruled. Her mouth opened; her diaphragm engaged. She awoke, heart pounding, lungs taking in air. She was safe, home. It was only a dream.

Hanging Christmas Lights (100)

We’d get onto the garage’s roof first. I’d climb up our old six-footer while Dad kept it steady from below, then he’d follow me up, pull the ladder after, set it across the peak of that lower roof, and we’d climb up to the top. He asked me once what I’d do if I slipped and started rolling. I threw my arms out wide. He nodded. “Makes sense.” We talked theoretical safety procedures near the forty-foot drop (never had to use them). Dad did the worrying for me; I loved the roof. No one but us ever went up there.

A Brief Conversation (140)

“Alternating abecedarian, alliterative, and apropos answers assume an able accomplice. Agreed?”

“Beginning boldly, bada-bing! But, brother, beware: be benign, because bamboozlement besmirches beauty.”

“Contrived comments cast contemptible concerns. Can caped, creepy crones counteract courteous, clever cronies? Contrarily, creativity considers calamity calmative: consumes corruption, continues crafting.”

“Deftly defended! Doubts drop deservingly, depending… Do dangerous delinquents deviate, daringly destroy dragons, deliver distressed damsels?”

“Enough! Errant eunuchs enable endangered elephants’ escapes! Even erstwhile effluent entices efflorescent enlargement.”

“Fiends: friends? Fictions falter! Fragmented figures--foolish figments--fail for floundering!”

“Greener grass greets gracious ganders!”

“Hell has heaven hobbled!”

“Idiot! Infidels increase imaginations; irksome imps imbue invention!”

“Jumping jaguars! Just joking--jesting!”

“Kidding?”

“Like laughing llamas.”

“May meaning meet monstrosity?”

“No.”

“Opponents offer opinions?”

“Perhaps people prefer pondering?”

“Quite.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“Tenacity…”

“Ubiquitous?”

“Verily.”

“What wonder would work?”

“Xenophopic Xerxes’ xylophone.”

“Yet you yawn?”

“Zzz…”

“!?”

TV Magic (100)

(Note: This story arc began in Chef. For more, follow the Snapshots tag.)

In my time at acting school, I started watching cop shows. The thrill of it got to me, and I soon realized that I was rooting for the bad guy. I wanted the system to fail: wanted the cop to run out of leads, wanted the killer to go free. Every time, tv magic would come through. There would be some breakthrough that the cop was clever or lucky enough to figure out, and the guy would be caught.

In the real world, there is no tv magic. The system fails. The cop runs out of leads. I go free.

Five Ws, One H (100)

(Note: This story arc began in Chef. For more, follow the Snapshots tag.)

I’m the how, I already know what, the buyer tells me who, who tells me where and when, and no one tells me why.

I don’t like the term ‘buyer.’ I am not bought; I am paid. But my services are bought, and ‘buyer’ sounds better than ‘client’ or ‘payer.’ ‘Client’ implies a relationship. I don’t have relationships with buyers. ‘Payer’ sounds either grammatically incorrect, or else it’s just a little too much like ‘prayer,’ and I don’t have any of those, either.

Routine gives me opportunity. Times and locations are chosen accordingly.

I don’t ask why. Neither should you.

6,267/1,000,000 (0.6267%)

I found this site about stories that have exactly 100 words. From the about page, "None of us will ever know the whole story.... We can only collect a bag full of shards that each seem perfect."

This week, I've been collecting shards. I can't call them perfect, but I find them intriguing. The form is as liberating as it is restrictive. Writing so little can be a struggle for the most condensed form, but knowing that the quota is the end allows me to explore an idea without worrying about all the questions.

And yes, this is 100 words. ;)

Chef (100)

(Based off of this picture from 100wordstory.org)

The man was nothing. He was a body following a routine. The watch on his wrist told him what to do. I could see him through the glass of the door. His face was blurred, but I knew it was him. It was 9:57am, his usual time. I watched his chest rise and fall. I saw him look out the window, fist on his chin. His empty eyes saw nothing but the glass inches in front of them. He couldn’t see me, watching his shell of a life. The man was nothing but a couple grand. I pulled the trigger.

Finals Week (100)

Eyelids droop and suddenly she doesn’t care about anyone watching; she lets go of her self-consciousness. She is in the student center, but she is invisible. She leans her head against the back of the couch and closes her eyes. It’s 9:30am. She has just finished one exam and has another in an hour. She wonders why she planned against coffee this morning. Caffeine would be good, she thinks. She struggles against sleep; exhaustion has overcome apprehension. Nerves, she remembers, were supposed to keep her awake. Eventually she rises and leaves. Glazed eyes watch her go, and then continue studying.

NaNoWriMo Winner!

Well, I did it. 50,020 words in 30 days. I started two separate stories this month and didn't finish either one, but I learned a ton about the characters, the universe they live in, and my own writing process. I also had an "aha" moment on the very last day of NaNo, so now I'm pretty sure I know where these stories are heading, I just need to figure out how they get there.

In the meantime, however, I'm probably going to let these stories stew for a bit while I finish the semester. I'll work on them a little, because I don't want to get too out of touch with them, but I will no longer have word count goals to reach each day.

I liked the experience. At this point, I'm leaning towards doing it again, but I won't know for sure until I get a little more perspective on the whole thing.