Skip navigation

Tag Archives: 100 words

About two weeks ago, I was approached by a coworker to craft the opening lines to a collaborative story that would be taking place in my library’s lobby. The starting words I wrote were posted on a large paper tablet on an easel. Patrons are free to come up and add a sentence to continue the narrative. As of this morning, we’re onto the fifth page It’s been an intriguing community effort, and I will try to post the whole thing once it is done. For now, however, here are the first one hundred words. I was given two themes to weave into this intro, summer and the library. This is what I wrote.

* * * * * *

The summer sun was hanging low in the sky, lazily dropping toward mountains. A light breeze carried a leaf from behind me and whisked it across my path before dropping it to the ground. I could still hear the laughter of the children playing games in the park I’d passed a few minutes before, mixed with yells that the ground was lava. I paused briefly to look toward my destination. The library stood tall amid the growing shadows, as if it were waiting for my arrival. I shivered in anticipation and approached the entryway, placing my hand on the door.

* * * * * *

I can’t wait to see where they go with this one.

Each month, the wonderful Sonia M. over at doingthewritething presents her fellow bloggers with a writing challenge, usually to create a piece of microfiction that fits within a particular word limit and based on a simple prompt. It’s a great way to connect with other writers, and it can only help to boost your creativity. Isaac Asimov even wrote under similar limits, once crafting a short piece of fiction designed to fit on the back of a postcard. The man was a genius, but I digress.

This month, Sonia’s challenge for us was “First Impressions and Famous Last Words.” We were allowed to write any genre, but we were limited to one hundred words and told to create either the opening or closing lines to a story. Here’s my contribution.

*     *     *     *     *     *

The explosion shook me off my feet, hurling me into the bulkhead. The airtight doors around me began to seal, red hazard lights flashing as artificial atmosphere vented. I scrambled for my emergency oxygen mask, knowing that precious seconds would make the difference between living and dying. As soon as I was breathing normally, I looked around again, pleased that my training had saved me but terrified of what could’ve caused such a catastrophic failure in the compartment. My communicator was still attached to my belt, but it had been damaged in my fall. No signal. I was truly alone.

*     *     *     *     *     *

Was it the first or last hundred words of a story? I don’t know. I like that it could be either one.