Short, Short Stories… 100 words
By Deb Rouleau
It’s not what I wanted but still I believe
That life is good.
The danger inside me disrupts my assurance
Of living forever,
But who wants that?
Who do we think we are that we merit immortality?
But why must we, the shiny people,
With pure hearts and ruined veins
Live with thoughts of certain death…
Not if we die, but when and how.
Our circulation slowing to a viscous crawl
Through faulty pipes.
Not ready to say goodbye, not willing to go,
Not what I wanted.
Yet my voice is not heard, my sorrow my own.
I am undone.
Short, Short Stories… 50 words
Emerson’s Favourite Sandwich
Michelle Dinnick – wc 50
“What are you making?”
“Tomato sandwich: toast, mayo, tomato, salt, pepper.”
“Can I share?”
“Just no pepper.”
“This is my sandwich. If you want to share it, you have to eat it my way.”
Cautiously, he bit.
Now at 10, he makes them for himself. My way. With pepper!