I felt like writing some more fiction today. So sue me! These particular 100-word stories originated from titles I came up with during a brainstorming session awhile back. Sometimes, a good title is all I need to get myself writing, so I try to think of new ones as often as I can, and file them away until I need inspiration. Hope you will enjoy reading these.
"CHICKEN, THE QUEASY 'DILLO"
Chicken, the armadillo, was trying desperately not to upchuck when his uncle, Arbogast, showed up.
"What's kickin', Chicken?" quipped Arbogast.
"I don't feel so good," replied Chicken. "I think it was the chicken."
"But you're the chicken, Chicken," said Arbogast.
"I'm talking about the chicken I ate," grumbled Chicken.
"You are what you eat," countered Arbogast.
"Then I'm a spoiled chicken," answered Chicken.
"I could've told you that," said Arbogast. "You always were a bit of a brat."
"Now you're calling me a sausage?" asked Chicken.
"What?" said Arbogast.
"Never mind," replied Chicken. "Let's just say I'm sick of myself."
I can do this! All I have to do is go over there and introduce myself. I'll say, "Hi, I'm Rex. What's your name?" Simple, right? So why am I still standing here? Because she's beautiful and popular and smart, that's why. And I'm ugly, and unpopular, and stupid. At least that's what everyone else says. I don't think I'm that stupid. Well, so what if I am? Does that mean I can't go up and say "hello"? Of course not! And that's just what I'm gonna do! As soon as my hands stop shaking. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week.
Betsy and I went picnicking at midnight last night. I had to sneak out of the house, because Dad doesn't want me out after dark. Dad was sitting on the couch watching baseball; well, let me rephrase that – he was sleeping through a baseball game. I crept past him real quiet-like. Betsy was waiting at the clearing in the woods with chips and sodas. I'd brought the blanket. Once we saw a shooting star, but I insisted it was an exploding planet. I still think I was right, but neither of us can prove it. After all, we're no astronomers.