The 100 Word Stories Podcast

The next topic is Office

TOM

Bitter as an empty glass

The bartender looks at me, then posed this question, “An empty glass is often a beginning of someone’s sad story. If you’re willing to talk, I’m willing to listen.” Since the Jack Daniels had been drained a good 20 minutes ago, this was my cue to share the bitter tale of Mary Jane Spanner. All Mary Jane wanted to do is dance on Broadway. Not a big role, just being one of the gypsies. I’d been working lighting at Waverly, she wasn’t that talented nor a real good looker, but the kid and a fire that lite up the stage.

NORVAL JOE

Mrs. Weinerheimer went to the kitchen and, pulling an empty glass from the dishwasher, she filled it with ice water and followed Sabrina.

Mandi sat on the couch next to Billbert and said, “That girl is such a drama queen.”

Billbert raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think she had a horrible experience in that basement?”

Mandi shrugged. “Maybe. I think she’s just bitter that you want me to join you on your mission and not replace me with Bobbie.”

Mr. Weinerheimer charged into the house. “Where’s your mother? Sorry Billbert, but you’ll be on your own for a few days.”

SERENDIPIDY

It’s on nights like this, bitter cold, when frost covers the ground that you’ll find me about my business.

LIZZIE

He slumped into a rusty chair someone left by the outside wall. He was the epitome of an empty glass. No car, no house, no pet, no marriage, no kids… in this order. “Believe in yourself,” someone told him. Oh, he believed, alright, because his wife sold the house, kept the car, took the cat, asked for a divorce, and told the kids he had died. Just because the car was more important to him than the kids. Frosty, she called him, frosty. Imagine that. Then, the lighthouse spun its light across the horizon, and the chair collapsed under him.

RICHARD

Greatest Hits

There were a lot of Jeff’s in my class. Some of them spell their name differently, but they were all pronounced Jeff. Every one. At first, the teacher tried to go by their last names, but their parents complained. And all the other classes had at least one Jeff. So, the teacher quit and pursued their musical ambitions, joined the band and they signed a Record deal and tour and made it pretty big. They almost won a Grammy for one of their albums. In their liner notes, they dedicate their first album to all the Jeffs in the world..

Last winter, Fred Pearson drove his smartcar off the road and into a snowbank during a blizzard, snapping his neck and killing him, and the car was completely covered up. The highway road crews never noticed a thing .The car went into sleep mode, preserving the battery .For three months, he was reported as missing. When the snow started to melt, his car powered back up and resumed the trip on its own. It pulled into Fred’s driveway with his oddly thawed corpse .the Car having turned on the heater when it sense the cabin had suddenly gone dangerously cold.

Robert Hill is one of my best friends. He comes from England. But when he came over here, he like to be called Robert Mountain. I asked him why. he said back home mountains have to be 2000 feet or higher while in the United States and other places typically the threshold is 1000 feet. Which I suppose is an interesting fact, I mean after all, he is 1500 feet tall. Whatever you call him, make sure that when you meet at a bar, everybody pays for their own drinks. I made that mistake once. I’m still paying for it.

By the time, Jackie was six, he was playing the pipe organ at the downtown Cathedral. A miracle a musical prodigy. They called him everything when he got to high school, he wanted to join the marching band, but how do you march with a pipe organ? Well, somehow, Jackie managed it, and it was like Phantom of the opera out there on the field at halftime. People came to the games just to hear him play, but when halftime was over, they’d all stream for the exits. The football team was kind of crap. Jackie graduated, and left town.

After every storm, the crews come out with their chainsaws and their big trucks and they chop up and move any trees and branches that fall on the road. And there are guys that go from house to house knocking on doors. And for a few days or a few weeks there’s a few chopped up trunks over the bike paths or the curbs and a few cherry pickers in yards trimming those branches that should’ve been trimmed back years ago. By the time things are cleaned up, and the roads are clear, the forecast calls for yet another storm.

Raul was the life of the party. He led the room with music, singing, dancing, drinking, and merriment. He kept the party going. And then, when he was tired, he grabbed his coat, scarf, and cane, and gave a loud cheer as he walked out the door. Music, singing, dancing, and everything stopped. Everyone just stood there staring. All the life was gone from the party as Raul left, then came a knock at the door, it was Raul. The party started back up, but he said I forgot my hat. He put it on and left, the party stopped.

The Grandfather Clock

The next topic is PICK TWO

LIZZIE

Midnight. Everyone was sleeping. Except for the village ghost. He liked to pretend he was still alive so he wore a top hat. As he walked past one of the houses, he saw two candles burning. Weren’t they all asleep? He wiped the window with his ghostly sleeve and peeked in. Empty. He swayed inside through the wall. Empty. He swayed back outside. Nobody. Suddenly, someone tapped on his shoulder. He shrieked, his top hat hanging on for dear life. Millie, the four-year old, was looking at him, snickering. Yes, this one would keep him busy for years to come.

LISA

Late Start.

NORVAL JOE

“It’s nearly midnight,” Mandi said, walking out of the kitchen with a hotdog on a plate. She had spilled ketchup down the front of her t-shirt and trying to clean it off, she only smeared it, making a bigger mess.

Billbert jumped when Sabrina looked at Mandi and screamed, “Stop her. She’s going to kill Billbert!”

Mandi jumped as well, the hot dog slipping from her plate.

Billbert grabbed Sabrina’s shoulder. “It’s ketchup, Sabrina. It’s not blood.”

“Oh,” Sabrina panted. She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m going to be sick,” she gasped, and she ran for the bathroom.

SERENDIPIDY

I’ve never figured out why it’s called the Witching Hour.

TOM

I went to a Catholic grade school, dam near ended up in the minor seminary; but that would be another story including Pope Leo. In those days one had a severely limited choice of clothing. Green shirt, green tie, black pants. The only optional clothing was a gray sweat-shirt, worn in the cold months. When the boys reached fifth grade we showed are distain for the dress-code by turning the sweat-shirts inside out. We rebels, the Sisters of Mercy were not. They thought they could wear us down. I saw a picture of 2010 eighth grade class inside out forever.

Deal with the devil

So, I’m standing at the cross roads, hunter’s moon above, round about midnight. I figure appear at a distance slowing moving towards me. “Son, you inquired about my services?” said the shadowy figure. I nodded my head. “Well, a contract seems to be in order before we proceed. What you’ll will to be putting up for the gift I would richly can reward.?” I thought for a second then figured what the hell. “My brother Rudy’s soul.” The figure laughed, “You are a dick, but I like your hutzpah, son.” “I want to the greatest Kazoo player who ever lived.”

PLANET Z

Of the black cats I’ve owned, I’ve never named one midnight. I mean, it’s as bad as naming one ironically Whitey. Now, I’ll call my old black cat Missy midnight murder mittens now and then, but it’s not her real name. And she doesn’t respond to it. She barely responds to her own name. She usually responds to good kid or breakfast or lunch. Or shaking the treats. You know that kind of stuff or if I’m petting her and she decides to bite me, she’ll respond to me yelling in pain. By biting more of course. Because cats suck.

Back in the day, Pops played for state. The thing is, he can’t tell you which state. And it turns out there’s more than just state universities and colleges. Lots of places end in state. He can’t even tell you what he played. He just knows he got knocked around a lot, ran a bunch, hit a few things with something. Probably his head, he jokes, and then stares off in the distance like he does. We called around and sent emails, but nobody will confirm it. he doesn’t have a diploma, he never graduated, considering his awful brain damage