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We all knew it wasn’t really a horse. It stood on the sugary banks of Boxom Lake, too perfect to be real. A sleek black beauty. My friends kept jostling each other, encouraging elbows pressing into...
Jake had hiked farther into the dense forest than he’d intended this crisp autumn day, but there were light purple, wild geraniums in bloom, ripe pawpaws for the picking, and not a soul for miles....
A hungry rat waited for everyone to board the train before racing to the end of the platform. Once there, it began nibbling on a slice of pizza. Then, without warning, a suited man approached. The...
101 Words is looking for a few good volunteer editors. If you would like to be part of a growing literary ecosystem, please read on. Here are some details you may wonder about: Details This is a...
If you had rested your head when the PC froze, it would have been memories of the sea sweeping against the shore, palms dancing in the cold breeze, Okon giggling, head placed on your bare chest. But...
Two years ago, my grandparents moved to the Miami condo where my grandfather died. I don’t have a single pleasant memory of them. Growing up, my grandfather thrashed my father with wooden coat...
Sit still, Big Boy, you’re eleven now. Look at me through the eye doctor’s funny glasses. Soon you will see the world more clearly. I’ve wondered how your world appears. You notice the mailman...
There’s an old family album with photos of my grandparents. I remember my grandmother looking through it with me. Her eyes lit on a memory, momentarily, then went out. My grandfather young and...
In the wild, untamed ocean—not on the maps anyone knows—there’s a gaping chasm: perfectly round, deceptively deep. Water spills over the edges, cascading falls that claim many a ship and crew. That’s...
My grandmother’s mixing bowl glares back at me from my cheap laminate countertop as it gossips with my thrift-store spatulas. She can’t do it, they whisper, and I know they’re right. My grandmother’s...
He sits across the picnic table, not exactly in front of me but closer than we’ve been in ages. Curly hair washed in sunshine, dark eyes sparkling with unsaid thoughts. I could ask him how he’s been....
“Oh. That was my favourite eye,” he says, sanguine; poking at the gaping, bloodless socket. His sister scoffs. “Come off it.” They watch as the eye rolls under the good dresser. Neither moves to...