Precious (Fiction; 100 words) The boy bounced and strained against the belt. “Settle down, Precious. You mustn’t appear overactive.” His guardian, a middle-aged woman with deep wrinkles and a permanent odor of smoke, checked her watch again. “They could decide they don’t want you and then what? All that wasted time and effort.” He grimaced…
You see the girl there, through the window, though the frost obscures your view. Night after night she stares; she waits. You watch the girl there, through the window. No smile, no light in her eyes. The spark within her snuffed out early. Perhaps a smolder remains. You see the girl there, through the window,…
VCE Chemistry teacher in Melbourne, Australia
a 100-word story every day
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Fiction Writing
The Mom Who Runs: 