100 Worder Pumpkin soup with a dash of magic

Pumpkin soup with a dash of magic

Helen Laycock

Pumpkin soup 

 

 

 Shelley hated basement living.

By five, the light had faded. She stood at the window and craned up to street level. Lit pumpkins swung next to little feet while she was cooped in her musty flat browsing lonely hearts ads and stirring soup.

The gloom seemed to drop heavily and squat on the cobbles. A clump of moss needed clearing from the damp steps. She slipped out, hugging her cardigan closed.

A toad! 

Shelley squealed.

No sooner had she run inside and slammed the door than there was a knock.

‘Harry Prince,’ said the handsome stranger. ‘Just moved in upstairs.’

About the author

A regular contributor to CafeLit, Helen Laycock writes for both adults and children. She has published three short story collections as well as several mystery/adventure books for readers of 8-12. She has had work published in a further ten anthologies, as well as online, and has had success in writing competitions with poetry, flash, short stories and plays.

Further details of her writing can be found on each of her websites:

Helen Laycock | Fiction in a Flash

http://helenlaycock.wixsite.com/fiction-in-a-flash

Helen Laycock | Children’s Author

http://helenlaycock.wixsite.com/helen-laycock

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Helen-Laycock/e/B006PGFVL6

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/helenlaycockauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/helen_laycock

100 Worder: That FridayNight

100 Worder: That FridayNight

Roger Noons

Just plain Orange Juice

A unique cabaret, just after ten o’ clock on that warm summer’s night. All the street came out and the pubs emptied early after a Midland Red bus became wedged beneath the railway bridge, just yards from Cradley Station.

            ‘Novice driver, mustn’t know the route.’

            ‘Careered past my window.’

            ‘Is anybody hurt?’

            ‘The driver’s run away.’

            Sergeant Bills rubbed all his chins, wondering what to do.

            Behind No. 20 Cokeland Place, William Clift, no bus driver, but a chain maker by trade, didn’t even have a licence, was counting out ten shilling notes.

            He enjoyed a wager did Uncle Bill.

About the Author

Roger Noons contributes regularly to the CafeLit site and his stories have been published in the Best of series (all to date) including having one chosen again for the next anthology due for publication in November 2016.

Published August 08 2016

100 Worder In Deep

100 Worder: In Deep

Michael Hennessy

Still Water

Peter was in deep. Very deep.

            He had dipped his toe into the murky waters of gambling. Now he was way in over his head. The more he chased his losses, the more he lost... his job, wife, house and  his self-respect.

Driving away from the bookie’s one night with his usual heavy heart and light wallet, he saw his way out.

            The river loomed. The car soared. The black water parted.

            As the ringing filled his ears and water filled his lungs, Peter smiled.

            No more crippling debt. No more tears of anguish. Now, everything was gone… including his oxygen.

About the Author

Michael had a successful career as an award-winning, advertising copywriter. Now he spends his time writing short stories, novels for adults and children, scripts for stage and TV, screenplays and the occasional poem. He is widely travelled and his article about beach dogs in Thailand won The Telegraph Travel "Just Back" competition. He has been shortlisted, winner and runner-up in many writing competitions and is currently looking for an agent/publisher/producer. His website is currently under construction.

Published July 6 2016

100 Worder: Buzz

100 Worder: Buzz

Polly Sinclair

Absinthe – a visit from the green fairy

There’s a buzz somewhere. Not that close, but definitely in here. Enough to be irritating, not enough to drive me from the comfort of the sofa yet.

            Could be the fridge. Although that’s more of a hum. The television? Does that weird nothing-noise when it’s on standby but not a buzz.

            The radiators sometimes sound odd. No. Not my phone… the doorbell malfunctioning? I don’t have one!

            There it is again. Closer now.

            A bee? Sounds bigger than that. I’m going to have to move and find it, aren’t I? 

            Where’s the newspaper? It’s getting louder.

            What on earth…?

            Christ!

About the Author

Polly is a busy lady with lots of jobs, a couple of children and a dog called Jelly! Usually a short story writer, she’s diversifying with really short stories and a novel just to mix it up!

Published May 25 2016

100 Worder: A Wishing Well

100 Worder: A Wishing Well

Dawn Knox

Water

The distant hills become one with the night, but at dawn, they emerge from the darkness, silhouetted against the watery light.

            I rise, take my water carrier and trek to the well.

            One hour later, I am home with my precious cargo.

            I set off again.

            Three more trips are needed before my family has sufficient water for one day.

            Four hours after rising, I set off for school where I will be scolded for tardiness.

            I hear that strangers plan to dig a well in my village.

            On my walk each morning, I selfishly pray for such a well.

About the Author

Dawn's first book 'Daffodil and the Thin Place' was published in 2014. She enjoys a writing challenge and has had stories published in various anthologies, including horror and speculative fiction, as well as romances in several women's magazines. Dawn has written a script for a play to commemorate World War One, which has been performed in her home town in Essex, in Germany and will be performed this year in France. Married with one son, she lives in Essex.

Published May 09 2016

100 Worder: Royal Infirmary

100 Worder: Royal Infirmary

Lisa Williams

A shot of whisky

They were removed without question, with a startlingly brisk efficiency, as she snipped the umbilical cord. It was for the best but tortuously painful. Our joint cries rose up into the room and seemingly strengthened the maternal bond.

            I wondered where they were as I fed him that night in the hospital bed. Watching thin feathered wisps of smoke from the incinerator soar across the city skyline. I hoped they’d given them to someone who needed a pair.

Two years later. He was back there.

            Breathing complications.

            He never saw the sky again and I never got my wings back.

About the Author

Lisa Williams. Domestic slattern. Obsessive reader.

Published May 05 2016

100 Worder: Working Out

100 Worder: Working Out

Stuart Page

Iced Milk Tea

Hiroki is showering. He feels and looks good today after his long workout. 'I’d date me,' he thinks, happily. Hiroki turns off the shower and, avoiding the eyes of the naked men around him, reaches out for his towel. He freezes when he looks at the towel rack, however. He hasn’t brought his own. 'Oh, no.' He swallows. Hoping that nobody’s watching him, Hiroki grabs the nearest towel and hastily dries himself. He returns it. It falls to the floor.

            'Is that mine?'

            'I don’t speak English!' Hiroki shouts, fleeing. Next week, he tries out a new gym.

About the Author

Stuart Page an English and Creative Writing graduate. He really enjoy writings 100 word flash fiction pieces.

Published May 03 2016

100 Worder: Cider and Chalk

100 Worder: Cider and Chalk

James Phillips

A glass of apple juice

It is hot walking up the hill, even in the shade.

The still air is thick with the scent of wild garlic.

We came here as kids.

‘Stay away from the chalk pit!’

Your mum.

Easy.

The top is surrounded by gorse.

A barrier or a deterrent.

You emerge from trees into the sun.

Under your backpack, sweat runs.

You pass incurious sheep and over the style.

Once you wouldn’t have touched the sides.

Not any more.

You smile; open a bottle.

The gorse is long gone; there is a fence.

A barrier and a deterrent.

Cider arcs and falls.

About the Author

James P M Phillips is a writer, musician and live music promoter from North Wales. He blogs about all three of these activities at https://jamespmphillips.wordpress.com/

Published April 29 2016

100 Worder: Performance

100 Worder: Performance

Roger Noons

A glass of Rosé

 I watched it from inside

The unwanted McDonalds remains surely contained; a beacon, for within seconds of being casually dropped on the crossing, the scavengers homed in.

            A black-backed gull strutted from stage right: a rook catapulted in from the left and two magpies occupied centre stage. Undirected, seemingly unrehearsed, devoid of floodlights, watched by a select audience confined within a blue four by four Kia, the improvised black and white ballet unfolded.

            Accompanied by kyows, chak-chaks and kaws, monogrammed  paper was shredded, morsels of food tossed, juggled, grabbed and devoured until, the stage bare, the performers exited as if wired in audition for pantomime.

About the Author

Roger Noons is a regular contributor to CafeLit, wowing us with many 100 worders and some longer ones – and you can also read his stories in our Best of CafeLit series.

Published April 27 2016

100 Worder: Sea Souls

100 Worder: Sea Souls

Helen Laycock

Water

Like a giant palm, the wave capped my head and plunged me beneath its surface, intent on consuming me.

            I tumbled, salt- and sand-blinded.

            It churned and pummelled me until I was spent.

            The dappled light became my sky as I drifted down, relinquishing myself to the depths.

            Flashes of luminescence confirmed that I was passing – but, through barely-open eyes, I saw lanterns encircling me, caught flicks of rainbow shimmer. White faces lit with eyes of emerald and aqua loomed and retreated.

            A streak of energy fizzed through my body. I thrashed my tail and, as they disappeared, sped behind.

About the Author

Helen regularly enters writing competitions and has had around thirty wins/shortlistings for poetry and short stories. She has had work published in An Earthless Melting Pot, Vol. 2 (Quinn), the One Word Anthology by Talkback Writers (Alfie Dog Ltd), Songs of Angels (Thynks), Silver Lining by Poets Against Violence (Baer Books Press), the Aspiring Writers 2013 Winners Anthology (Blue Dragon Press), The Best of CafeLit 3 and 4 (Chapeltown) and A Quick Read (Aspen Press). She is a regular contributor of flash fiction to CafeLit and was featured in Issues 14 and 19 of Jotters United.

She can be followed at:

‘Helen Laycock, Author’ Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/Helen-Laycock-Author-263598357033724/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/helen_laycock

Published April 26 2016

100 Worder: Nothing Like Temptation

100 Worder: Nothing Like Temptation

Lisa Williams

Frothy Coffee

It is a truth universally acknowledged that after a certain age you can get more pleasure from a short trip round M&S foodhall than you can from your own husband. It’s just the way life is. No one’s fault.

Even if you don’t buy anything, the tantalising glimpses of ready meals, forbidden pleasures of prepared veg – God! And the never before contemplated joys of buying ready plated sandwiches for a buffet is enough to make you drool.

I buy him a pie. Steak & Kidney. Knowing he’ll get a lot more pleasure from that than I could ever provide now.

About the Author

Lisa Williams. Domestic slattern. Obsessive reader. Writes a bit.      

Published April 25 2016

100 Worder: The Queen’s Labour

100 Worder: The Queen’s Labour

Dawn Knox

Mead

‘The head is visible, your majesty.’

            No one breathed as she paused to summon sufficient strength for the final push. Unspoken questions hung in the suffocating air of the lying-in chamber.

            Was the baby alive?

            Strong?

            A boy?

            Her destiny depended on this child. A healthy son would guarantee her status and, if not the king’s love, then at least his respect. But if not…

            She prayed to the Virgin Mary as she pushed, and the infant slithered, screaming into eager hands.

            It was done.

            Eyes avoided her gaze and expressions froze.

            ‘Congratulations, your majesty, you have a fine daughter.’

About the Author

Dawn's first book Daffodil and the Thin Place was published in 2014. She enjoys a writing challenge and has had stories published in various anthologies, including horror and speculative fiction, as well as romances in several women's magazines. Dawn has written a script for a play to commemorate World War One, which has been performed in her home town in Essex, in Germany and will be performed this year in France. Married with one son, she lives in Essex.

Published April 20 2016

100 Worder: On Target

100 Worder: On Target

Polly Sinclair

Bitter lemon, served cold

The bullseye taunted her as the bow swayed. She pulled back the string, her heart beating loudly.

            Thud, thud, thud…

She ached but knew she had to hold on for moments more. Trembling, the tension ran through her body. Trying to remember everything he had told her. Focus on the draw.

            Thud, thud, thud…

The whistle blew; she tightened her grip before swinging around towards him. The smug look of control across his face.

            Thud, thud, thud…

The arrow sailed through the air and headed directly towards him. He had no idea that he had always been her target. 

            Thud.

About the Author

Polly is a busy lady with lots of jobs, a couple of children and a dog called Jelly! Usually a short story writer, she’s diversifying with really short stories and a novel just to mix it up!

Published April 19 2016

100 Worder: It’s Impossible To Spell

100 Worder: It’s Impossible To Spell

Mike Olley

Water with soluble aspirin

I invented a new swear word, I'd used up all the others whilst putting up these shelves. It happened at the moment I hit my thumbnail with a hammer for the second time. My voice just spurted out something different. Unusual. I didn't know what I'd said and there was no one else around to verify; the new swear word was simply lost in the ether. But sometime and somewhere in the future when all is quiet, there may be a faint echo heard that will make mothers blush and schoolchildren giggle. In the meantime, I'm hanging up my tools.

About the Author

Mike Olley writes short fiction. His work has been published in several anthologies. A designer by trade, he's also quite a good carpenter and grower of cactus plants. Originally from London, he spent a few years in Spain before a quirk of fate brought him back to live in an English seaside town. He can be found at mikeolley.com

Published April 18 2016

100 Worder: Bite Marks

100 Worder: Bite Marks

Janet Bunce

Bloody Mary – chilled

There was no doubting the marks on the body.

            Teeth to be sure.

            Some learned local said they were from a wolf.

            Another said a bat or maybe a large dog.

            Whatever the source there was great discomfort in the village.

            Years ago there had been a number of attacks.

            Several had died from bite wounds, torn apart around the neck.

            Rumours prevailed about a vampire but then it all suddenly stopped.

            It was just a rabid dog they then concluded.

            What they had not remembered was the visiting freak circus – back again and amongst its performers Countess Marie Dracula.

About the Author

Janet Bunce works in financial services but loves writing and hopes to achieve more in 2016. She is very pleased with her inclusion in the last two editions of Best of CaféLit.

Published March 10 2016

100 Worder: To Be A Queen

100 Worder: To Be A Queen

Dawn Knox

Bloody Mary

The cries of support are almost lost amongst jeers and taunts, but they give her little comfort. Once upon a time, the crowds had gathered to praise and cheer her, but people are fickle and easily influenced.

            The beads of her rosary move methodically through her fingers, while she offers up silent prayers for her soul and suddenly, at an unseen signal, the crowd falls silent.

            It is time.

            Gripping the rosary tightly, she flings her arms sideways to indicate her readiness. Her exposed neck feels the disturbance of the air as the axe blade slices downwards.

            The crowd gasps.

About the Author

Dawn Knox is married with one son and has been writing for several years. She has had a YA ebook published, entitled Daffodil and the Thin Place and has written a script for a play to commemorate World War One, which has been performed in her home town in Essex, in Germany and will be performed this year in France. Dawn enjoys a writing challenge and has had stories published in various anthologies, including horror and speculative fiction, as well as romances in several women's magazines.

Published March 7 2016

100 Worder: Cry For Help

100 Worder: Cry For Help

Jenny Drew

Stewed Tea

Jim saw the piece of paper slide out from under the door. He checked if Marcy had seen it but she wasn't in the room. He grabbed it as she came in with a cup of tea.

            The note simply said 'HELP'.

            Lucky for him Marcy hadn't seen it, too bad for the girl in the cupboard, she would pay for that. Soft crying could be heard. Jim looked at Marcy ready to explain.

            'You'll need to get rid of that girl, Jim'

            Jim looked at Marcy in surprise, smiling she walked over and handed him the hammer.

About the Author

Jenny runs Basildon Writers group and has written two novels. When she is not writing she is happily creating multimedia art and lives with her family in Essex.

Published February 26 2016

100 Worder Ephemeral

100 Worder: Ephemeral

Angela Haffenden

Hot cocoa with mint

Where warmth and cold collide, I exist. I am ice crystals, flakes, shimmering and falling. I silently glisten on the land, in a pure white covering. Little robin red breast leaves footprints while he searches for food. Children play; making angels, throwing balls, building snowmen with carrot noses, coal for eyes, fallen branches for arms. When the temperature rises, I melt, and slide in slabs from rooftops. Once new and fluffy and full of promise I become black and sludgy. My time on earth is over. I end my time soaking into the ground, nourishing the roots of new life.

About the Author

Angela Haffenden is a mother of four children. She is also responsible for a husband and a dog. She writes mainly to stay sane. She lives by the sea and writes in a cabin in the garden.

Published February 25 2016

100 Worder Pressing The Flesh

100 Worder Pressing the Flesh

Allison Symes

Iced Tea

It was 3 am. The neighbours were sleeping. He must be quick. It was hard to disguise a cutter’s sound but bodies didn’t dispose of themselves. His ancestors knew that. They provided bodies for vivisection - animal or human, it didn’t matter which. There were discoveries to be made. Science then was a hungry beast.

His market was different. So many could not afford the disgusting price of meat. So many could not afford to ask where cheap meat originated and instead were sensible and just ate what they could get.

About the Author

Allison Symes is published by CafeLit, Bridge House Publishing, Alfie Dog Fiction, Scriggler.com and Shortbread Short Stories. She is a member of the Society of Authors and Association of Christian Writers. Her website is http://www.fairytaleswithbite.weebly.com and blogs for Chandler’s Ford Today - http://chandlersfordtoday.co.uk/author/allison-symes/

Published February 23 2016

Advent Day Twenty/Twenty-One 2015

Advent Day Twenty/Twenty-one

December 20/21 2015

Allison Symes

Telling The Time

Cappuccino

I inherited the beautiful grandfather clock, aptly, from my grandfather. He swore it kept better time than Big Ben. I tried telling him that was the name of the bell but he was having none of it.

            Much as I miss my grandfather, part of me is glad he isn’t around to see his wonderful clock has gone horribly wrong. It has not been the same since that mouse got into the workings. Instead of chiming the hour, the bloody thing squeaks now. 

            On the plus side, I always know when it is 1 o’clock.

About the Author

Allison Symes is published by CaféLit, Bridge House Publishing, Alfie Dog Fiction, Scriggler.com and Shortbread Short Stories.  She is a member of the Society of Authors and Association of Christian Writers. Her website is www.fairytaleswithbite.weebly.com and blogs for Chandler’s Ford Today - http://chandlersfordtoday.co.uk/author/allison-symes/

Published December 21 2015