These 100-word stories were selected as Honorable Mentions. Those who completed this challenge are now encouraged to share their stories in the comments section of the "December Writing Challenge."
The Last Supper
Wine, bread, and meat have been prepared just for me. A silk cloak gold in color has been fitted according to my measurements. I almost cannot envision a better beginning of the end. Despite the luxuries bestowed upon me, my soul is not at ease. Thoughts of loved ones and never accomplished firsts flood my memory.
Perhaps if I were fed and clothed amidst my misfortune, these foods wouldn’t be the last to tingle on my tongue. My pride has been stripped from me. No longer am I a man, but a curiosity, a lesson to be taught to children.
I want to scream his name so, so loudly. I want to channel every cell inside my body into shouting for him. I want him to feel it like I do. I want him to want me like I want him. So maybe, if I shout loud enough, he’ll hear me. Maybe, if I ache a little more, he’ll ache for me too. Maybe if I wait a little while longer, he’ll finally come around.
I try to listen to the teacher, but my attention keeps shifting to my left where he’s two seats away.
ALEX! Please, love me.
Prisca Tomy Varghese
My Dance Reward
“You will ask for the head of the prophet on a platter,” Mother declares, her long fingernail pointing at me.
The King’s face falls: shock, guilt, and then, misery. His oath to me: Oh my, my! Our sweet Carina; look at her dance! I am so impressed! I will give you whatever you ask. Whatever you want, my little girl. Yes, whatever you want!
Mother struts off, leaving me alone, left with no choice but hers, at the centre-stage.
His eyes scan the audience.
“Just as you say, Princess,” he says at last, almost a whisper. “Just as you say.”
Euphoria in an Unknown Number
He called me today.
He didn’t mean to, and it was from an unknown number, but my heart swelled when I heard his voice.
I was angry when I answered the phone. I don’t normally answer unknown numbers, but today I slammed my thumb down on the button.
“Is this Danny?”
“Who is this?”
He laughed a bit then, which is when I realized who I was talking to.
“Oh my god, is this Jupiter?!”
I could envision his smile, hearing it in his voice. I laughed euphorically. Then began to cry.
Trying to fall asleep.
I roll over in bed and stare at the wall on the other end of the room.
I remember what my mom used to tell me.
“The unknown doesn’t have to be scary,” she’d whisper while tucking me in. “Shape it into what you want to see.”
I’ve never been good at that.
What do I want to see? How do I just make myself see it? I shut my eyes and open them again.
What do I want to see?
I want to see my mom.
And then the darkness morphs.