99 Word Fiction

Dad is a funny little word. In my dictionary it sits in between Dactylus and Dadaism. So in my mind's eye I picture Dad stuck between a bee's hind leg and a nihilistic art movement of the early 20th century.

I wish they had placed him further down on the page. Preferably somewhere in the middle of defeat and defecate. I would pay to watch him squirm his way out of that one.
Dad is a funny little word but our Dad was never that funny. Funny is a word that sits between Fungus and Fury. That's about right.
                                                                             (C)  Ally Atherton



With arms pressed against my back, the last thought in my head was 'I'm going to die.'


I stood, my trousers soaked in urine, it was school but not how it should have been. This was fear. Sweat rolling down my face and everywhere else it could think of. I grabbed hold of anything that I could. Their laughter, my humiliation, the pain. Before it was too late I pressed the button on my watch and started to disappear again. Where there's a big red button, there is always hope.


And I had got what I had come for.                  


                                                                   (C) 2014 Ally Atherton

 Back To Zero

He had one word left.

In the past he used to carry on talking but when the body count started to pile up he stopped. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to stop because every 99th word that fell from his mouth resulted in the cruel and violent death of the unlucky bastard that happened to be standing closest to him.

And he had been doing so well at controlling himself until the day he stubbed his toe in the bedroom.

It was the word we all use.

As his wife screamed, the word count returned to zero.


                                                     © Ally Atherton 2014
                                                              99 Words.



                                            Red or Blue

He'd seen it in the movies hundreds of times but here he was with the fate of the human race balanced between his fingers.

If he chose to cut the wrong wire he wouldn't be receiving any more Christmas cards from God and his maintenance man days would be over.

So red wire or blue wire?

If he chose correctly the Jesus circuit would be fixed and everybody's sins would be forgiven.

But if he chose incorrectly the Holy Trinity would be lost forever. Wiped from the face of the Earth with one cold sharp snap of a wire.


                                                                     (C) Ally Atherton


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