Every month we will be focusing on the work of one of our members.
For this month, we have a collection of our 100 word stories.
Ray by Phil Appleton
As a tiny hole in a black sheet of paper, a pinprick of light shines, dim but steady. Then the faintest twinkle, a flash and a movement of energy, seen by no-one. The photons multiply, faster than space, gathering speed and momentum, dazzling bright.
The earth sits, quiet and dark, its slow rotation signalling presence, unlike its sterile moon. The ray approaches, bursting with power and blinding whiteness, wider than an ocean until its cataclysmic collision with rock and sea. The planet shakes in hot defiance, holding firm in the cooling fireball, as the first of life prepares to form.
Ray by Amanda Buchan
I belong to the Royal Association of Yodellers. I had to audition but I reckon I got in because the lads loved my big boobs and my wicked sense of humour, it’s a killing combo!
The RAY visited the German Yodelling Centre this year. It was so hot and sweaty, I poured a load of talc down my cleavage. This Hun was staring at my breasts so I pushed his face right down my front and he came up all covered in powder. Did we laugh!
Well, he didn’t, but Huns don’t have a sense of humour, do they?
Shirt by June Kerr
So I bought this shirt you see
Cause it was pink and sparkly and very ‘me.’
It was covered in flowers and sequined creatures
And was low enough cut to show off my best features
But she ripped it off my back that night
In what could only be described as a nasty cat fight
When she pulled my hair and tore the sleeve
After discovering I’d had it off with Steve
It wasn’t really my fault all that hurt
Over a pink and sparkly shirt
I know I shouldn’t have slept with Steve but
I blame the shirt for being too low cut
Ray by Rosa Carr
“Dawn is not long off,” he says, urging me on. Yawns stifle my grumpy response.
“I promise you won’t regret it.” He’s dragging me out the door.
It’s far too early to be this happy, I think, too tired to actually vocalise.
I’m trying to shoot a death stare at him as I’m half lifted into the car. It probably looks more like I’m going back to sleep rather than the death rays I’m hoping for.
He hops in the car and speeds off. Screeching to a halt across the lake in time to see the sun’s rays break the horizon.
Ray by Robyn Kayes
I sit by the window enjoying the rays of bright sunshine, reading the story of Marie Curie and her wonderful work with X-rays. I would dearly love to follow in her footsteps. As clouds cover the sun, and the room darkens, I shiver in the absence of warmth. Suddenly the door to the library bangs open, and in walks Mother with her hand resting on the arm of a strange man. “There you are child, why are you sitting in the dark? I have some wonderful news for you. This is your new step-father, his name is Ray.
BLADE OF GRASS
You know in dreams – when you feel outnumbered, on the run; being chased by faceless assassins?
You stumble onto The Long Walk full of petty tourists. Well, there’s a Chinaman there photographing the grass – stroking it as if it’s some long-lost lover.
He sees you and looks alarmed. He plucks one to show you.
“Blade of glass!” he shouts.
“No … You mean blade of grass.” you say.
“No.” he says. “BLADE OF GLASS!”
A shadow falls as I turn and her diamond stiletto plunges straight into my cheating heart. A rush of blood that jolts me awake.
*********** THE END ***********
© Kanthé 2018