100 Word Stories. Each one 100 words. 100 words in each one.

100 Word Stories, Creative Corner — By on March 7, 2011 5:57 pm


Whoosh! The buildings flashed past in a blur of browns and grays. Was that David cooking for Sheila? He looked happy. They were great together now. Whoosh! Was that Mrs Jones putting her washing out? What a help she’d been. Whoosh! Were they Charlie and Dawn’s kids playing with their xmas presents? What a great future they’ll have. Isn’t it funny the way things go? These were the people she’d miss the most. Family in this lonely city. It had been a difficult transition. Whoosh! Then….a sickening crack. A crumpled heap. Poor Vicky never had a chance to say goodbye…


Folks around these parts shouldn’t talk about things they can’t comprehend. John had seen the world. John had had a lot of fun. Sure, he never really settled. Lovers came and went, arrived with force and crept away weakly as his breath now did. ‘You only live once’ was his motto, and he lived by it. Maybe if Debbie hadn’t left him all those years ago…how was she now? How cruel fate can be to wrench two people in such different directions, down paths of heaven and a once glorious hell. John’s weaknesses and vice had cost him his life.


It was a grey morning and she didn’t believe it really true. An uncertain world waited for Joan. She nervously fumbled the gold crucifix….at least God was with her now. Choice….how good that would taste! A cup of tea in the kitchen, sunlight streaming in and heightening the brightness of the walls! But that was just a memory from a magazine flicked through many years ago…as realistic as the notion of the world forgiving her. For though Joan had been given a new shot at life, she could never bring back the ones she so cruelly took that life from.


Keith wasn’t sure about this. This place was sleazy, a sleaze that dripped from the walls, contaminating all it touched. Kisses blown, tits and asses shown. Keith wandered up higher. The higher the climb, the further the fall. Who would catch him? Maybe he was too far gone to care. Attention grabber. All lipstick, pouts, short skirts and high heels. Pumping music pulsating and energising him, and the confidence kicking in. Was that a second look? A third? It was heading that way….Keith was glad he’d waxed his legs that morning, he was glad he’d put on his sluttiest skirt.


“I hate you! Fuck off and never come back!” It had been love and hate all the way, nothing was ever smooth sailing. At the beginning, her difference in this homogenous crowd had got her the attention she craved. Difference is strength. He was the envy of his friends. But cracks started appearing, promises were made and broken, language barriers holding firm after the lust of uniqueness had subsided. She’d have to leave the country soon, her one sure thing had gone. Or…. had it? “I’m not really on the pill”, she smirked, and turned to walk away.


I saw you as I got out of the lift, just the back of you, but it got me thinking again. I got on my bicycle and tried to catch you, but you’re faster, and have an agenda of your own these days, so I couldn’t reach you. You parked up, and strode away and down to the subway, and I tried to call your name, but….. You’ve gone again. I’ll try…..tomorrow I guess. But I know I’ll fail. I know you’ve left my life. I kill myself every morning I follow you here. But that’s love, isn’t it darling?

Frankie and Jenny

Frankie twisted, turned, shook his hips, clicked his heels, eyes closed, caught in a moment of pure elation, as Jenny squealed in delight, loosely thrown this way and that, spinning, jiving, boogying on down; together they owned the dancefloor, nobody else was there, full of life, strong and together, sheer energy of unison, knowing that they were the only 2 people in the world that knew this was something, a moment, a time to treasure forever….for this was the last dance, and the car crash that took away the instruments of their displays of passion would not spoil this moment.


Lung cancer. Gave up fags 10 years ago I’d had enough of the Working Mens Club every weekend, but that night of my son’s wedding was great though I’d worked all day as I had done for 40 years in the same factory the salary barely changed but better then my first proper job and my first kid was on the way before I’d finished school which is where I met Sally and we’d both come from similar families and growing up was a lot of fun and I knew I wouldn’t be special but I’d still enjoy this life.


Tabby loved her job, helping the HIV-affected kids, nursing them, taking good care of them, treating them like the normal human beings they were..for the genocide generation had surely used up all the madness this country could ever produce. Now the rapes had left these abandoned, infected babies, but their limited future would be well-lived. Tabby loved Kigali, and felt safe enough, but she let her guard down one cool evening, and after the brutal attack, 9 months later, her own child was left in the same orphanage, and Tabby was sent home, no longer capable of making a difference.


People in their jeeps, gawking again. What is it now? One could feel a little self-conscious. Or maybe it is the elephants stealing the lime-light. It certainly can’t be the hyenas, the crooked scavengers, lower even than the pesky jackals and the ever-present vultures. I hate everyone in Ngorogoro, and the zebra would be tasty but they stand nose to tail these days the clever buggers… I can’t really move. I’m exhausted, and even that lame gazelle by that acacia won’t stir me. No, let them stare if they have to. Stop daydreaming. Stop reminiscing. I hate this fucking zoo.


Michael was good at making nets, his strong fingers surprisingly nimble, as was his tongue as Winnie had found out when she took the Nile river cruise with him. Winnie was tired of the city, Kampala was too busy and noisy and it was nice to get out here. Something clicked in Winnie that day, and she found herself inviting herself for dinner in Michael’s village. Michael was the envy of the village, moved to Kampala….but realised even the beauty of his love couldn’t replace the hole in his heart that yearned for the simple way of life he preferred.



Nairobi. Poor little James was crying again. He hadn’t eaten all day, and had soiled the threadbare blue pants he was wearing. He looked around himself with his big brown eyes. His little world had damp brown walls, and he was covered with a filthy green blanket. There were no toys around to play with. Where was mummy anyway? She was often away through the night. Diana returned to the cardboard box with some chicken. She wouldn’t let James know her sadness. Soon she’d have to leave as her 7th client of the evening, Ralph, waited to take her dignity.


Omran had learnt to close his eyes and think of sexier things when he was with Margaret. They were in a nice place, the Winter Palace, right on the Corniche overlooking the Nile. Margaret had trouble standing, and Omran had to help her. Arthritis must be a terrible thing, he thought. It wouldn’t happen to him for a long time though. Omran was 25. Margaret, 76 this year, gave her Egyptian toyboy a kiss, and presented him with a small envelope full of dollars, but the visa she’d promised still hadn’t arrived and Omran was losing patience with his soul.


“Tracey. Left school at 12. Carpet sower for 50 years, earning a pittance. She worked tirelessly, never complained. Used to bring in a little lunchbox instead of buying lunch so she could give her sons’ pocket money. She’d sometimes call the numbers down the Bingo Hall.”
“Why do you think she never revealed her talent?”
“Maybe she didn’t think her works were good enough.”
“Incredible. Do you know her last painting sold for $300,000?”
“Yes, the self portrait…what a beautiful piece.”
“She’s an inspiration..if only the working class were able to believe in themselves”


“The chavs have brayed poor Peter nearly to death. They set fire to Mr Hirst’s car last week..”
“They’ve been picking on me since I was 5. They’ve got a vid on YouTube egging me”
Bob was smart at school and fashionable. That’s why they hated him.
Bob took a walk down by Tescos the next week. Keiran Burke. The fucker. Bob marched up to him, stuck an air rifle into his face and pulled the trigger. He blinded 20 that day. What fun! Bob was soon joined by more disgruntled students, and soon he had an army….


I am a Bedouin. I work on the steps leading up to the Monastery at Petra. I sell beads. I’m ignored by most of you. Some of you are old and grumpy, you seem miserable here. Some of you are younger, and listening to your ipods so I can’t engage you properly. All so concerned about seeing as much as you can in a short space of time, you forget. You’re here at our invitation. You’re on our land. Please stop and have a cup of tea sometimes, wouldn’t you invite a guest in your country to do the same?


“And this was another trap used to bayonet American troops. See how it could be impossible to spot in the jungle? Many Americans died in these traps. Now, let’s look at the cuchi tunnels. Both the Vietcong and the Americans had their own specially trained ‘tunnel rats’, and they could live underground in this network of tunnels for months….” David hated guiding these moronic Americans around. David’s parents had both been killed by Americans. But David was small enough to join the ‘rats’, and had probably killed the relatives of many of those he guided. David suppressed a smile.

Sheila and I

Pretty hot again, but I guess we’ll try and get a wash later to cool down. Sheila’s starting to eat better now, and we can enjoy a bit of peace and tranquility during meal-times, which we couldn’t for a few months before. We might be able to go out for a walk later if anybody is awake to join us. It’s great that we can do all this together. I guess we have more in common now than ever before! Wonder how long it will be before we’re released? Somalia is the last place we want to grow old in.

Peter and Yukiko

It was a little too crowded for comfort, and Yukiko was feeling suddenly self-conscious. She’d never done this kind of thing before. Her friends had had some success, and had eventually cajoled her into replying to some of the ads she’d seen. Here she was now in Starbucks, looking for the tall, athletic, blonde Canadian who called himself Peter. Nobody. Then, a tall, bald, overweight black man came over and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Peter.” Yukiko was too shocked to run. She sat through a coffee with Peter, and was surprised to find herself warming to this internet liar….



Mohamad had one rule on his felluca, which plied the Nile from Aswan to Luxor – piss in the troughs, never over the side. The piss ran into collection buckets. Much less harmful to the environment. Mohamad prided himself on the quality of his tours – he never shortchanged his customers. He rolled spliffs for everybody to chill with as they watched those famous Nile sunsets – Mohamad smiled as they drank his own-brand firewater, which he sold to other felluca captains. To think – the piss of other tourists mixed with local liquor would taste so good to them.

Shakey Steve

“Steve had a good job, loving wife, 3 kids….Well, he went to Phuket one year. Fell in love with someone. A month later, divorced his wife and went back to set up a hotel with this bar girl, Nit. Six months after they married, she left, took his money… disappeared. He’d invested his life savings in that place, but it was under her name.”
“Fuck. What’s he doing now?”
“Look over there, in the corner. That guy with the pint, hands shaking? We call him ‘Shakey Steve’ now. Takes 6 pints to stop the shakes. Poor bloke.”


‘There She Goes’ and so do I guess ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ and ‘Something Changed’ the day we met, we’re ‘History’ now, and you’re free to ‘Catch the Sun’, but ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ because I know you wanted to ‘Take a Walk on the Wildside’ with me, or was it ‘Unintended’? ‘Traffic’ is an obstacle between ‘You and Me’ and I guess ‘This is It’ now, but ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ my love…I hope maybe ‘The End Has a Start’ and we’ll meet again ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ you’re still my ‘Shining Light’ and….me and you we’ll ‘Live Forever.’



“She left school at 14 and started work in a factory sewing carpets. She met my dad when she was 16, and they married 2 years later. My dad suddenly died, so my mum took 2 and sometimes 3 jobs at the same time to pay the bills…..she used to walk me 3 miles uphill for me to train with my football team in the freezing rain… ..she never complained, always smiling, always helping…completely selfless. If I was half the person she was……”
David broke down. Why did he never tell his mum in person while she was alive?

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Crazy’s Place

It’s like walls are just moving amazing colours moulding and forming all kinds of weird shapes remember like we used to do with playdo when we were young those were brilliant days and don’t forget the time oh but I kind of wow it’s washing wishing whirling over me the sound is that music or the lullaby of a thousand insects crawling around…..they’re here I can’t see them but I can feel them scuttling and I swear they’re nibbling at my skin and what is that sound it’s doing my head in and who are you do I know you?

Joe and Nora

“Bet you can’t wait to get married Joe”

“That’s right, Nora. Can’t wait.”

“You’re 20 years past your sell-by-date!”

“Haha, right…”

“Yes…marriage again….The grinding tedium of enforced companionship. Awkward fumblings beneath the sheets as your passion fades. Think she’ll stick it out? She’ll have shagged half of Heathside by week 3. She’s 18! You’re 55. Fucking disgrace.

Jo smiled. How bitter the jaded ex-wife can be! She had an arse like a sack of spuds, and no man would look at it twice now. She shouldn’t have shagged half of Heathside all those years ago.


Michelle really enjoys coffee mornings with the other housewives. Catching up on gossip. And those butter cakes that Tracey makes are delicious! They are united in looking after the nest when husband’s are on business trips, flexing those credit cards….and, well, a woman has needs too. Gary the plumber is hung like a horse, one which Michelle enjoys riding. The women do love a gossip about their fuck buddies. Today, Michelle’s husband popped in on an early lunch with flowers. “Won’t stay long, darling. Not interested in talking about cooking or shopping!” Michelle gave the others a knowing smile.


  1. Reena says:

    I love your nano stories…they are little nuggets of insight into the human psyche… the minimalism and plot twists remind me of Chuck Palahniuk’s short stories…

  2. Eddie says:

    Great blog. Interesting stories. You’re photography is getting very very good too. Love your shots of the children and people around the world mate. Eddie

  3. MayaHarleen says:

    Hey Neil,

    Those pictures, stories and everything else are amazing. Thank you. I want more!


    • Neil says:

      Thanks a lot for the encouraging words, Maya!
      I’ll try and get more stories and pics up – I have a big backlog but should have a bit more time to get some new things up. Watch this space!

  4. Maya Harleen says:

    Surely will! Going thru all the posts one by one to read and enjoy more of them. Thanks very much.


  5. Maya Harleen says:

    Surely will! Going thru poses one by one to make sure I don’t miss anything out. Everything about this blog is marvellous. Thanks very much for sharing.


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