Here are three short stories I wrote for class. All are exactly 101 words:
It was a sweltering summer’s day, when Tom and I decided to clean the canary’s cage and thought the shady back yard would be the ideal place. Tom lifted the cage from its base and onto the ground. Well, that was the plan; in the split second the cage was mid-air, Ruben made his bid for freedom and flew into the nearby tree. Our attempts to lure him back only encouraged him to fly up further, his cheerful chirp getting more distant. Then, there was a flash of yellow in the sky, and we knew we’d never see that canary again.
I had to do a double take. Surely the bedraggled creature slithering under a hole in the fence wasn’t my beloved cat Tim? Closer inspection confirmed it was, and in the nick of time I pulled him back into my arms. Poor Tim, he was disorientated and drenched, so I cuddled him ‘til the vet arrived. Turns out he’d been poisoned, although thankfully not on purpose. A potent weed killer on the neighbour’s grass had sent him tumbling into the pond. It’s lucky he managed to clamber out, and luckier still that I’d seen him before he escaped under that fence.
A shaky start
I should’ve known that having a long journey planned the day after Tom brought his new car was a risky idea. Well I say new, a BMW 6-series from 1982. I nestled into the passenger seat, as Tom put the key in the ignition and turned. Nothing happened. He tried again: “It won’t start”, he said. I looked at him in disbelief; “I’ll have to get the train”, I said, slamming the door and marching down the street. It was my niece’s 18th, I had to be there. Suddenly, I heard the engine growl into action behind me. All was forgiven.