Jimmy Doom's Roulette Weal

Photo by  HelpStay.com  on  Unsplash It was date number two, a little Italian place by the zoo. "I've told you so much about my work and my pets," Denise said. "What about you? Any interesting or unique hobbies?" Nate smiled, sipped wine, took a moment. “My father used to ridicule me for having a smaller than average penis,” he said, “so when I’m standing at a line of urinals I look at other men’s penises. Not in a sexual way, mind you, but because I need to reassure myself that I’m not that small.” “Oh…” Denise composed herself and smiled. “Anything else?” Nate nodded. “Boxing.”

  Photo by  Nathan Dumlao  on  Unsplash The American streets were lively and exciting to a small town Irish girl and  Oona was enjoying the vibrance. "Don't stray too far from me," her cousin Sharon told her. “It's an exciting city, but it's still a city and people and things aren't always what they appear to be.” Oona was enthralled by the sights and the sounds, while Sharon was bored but wary. Oona jerked to her right and positively cooed with excitement, pointing at Kruger’s Diner. “That aroma is heavenly,” she said, dragging Sharon toward the door. Sharon pulled back “That’s because botulism doesn’t have a smell.”

Photo by  Sven Read  on  Unsplash   Gin and frozen mini tacos were battling for intestinal dominance. Lou was getting wobbly. It would have been unpleasant at home, but he was currently at St. Josaphat, in line for communion.  Tonight was Christmas Eve, he had promised his mom he would attend mass. Now he was yards from the altar, sweating, shaking, clenching his cheeks. He needed salvation from his own bowels and it wasn’t forthcoming. Three people in front of him, Lou was Cardinal red in the face, about to soil himself. He turned and sprinted down the aisle. An elderly woman with a rosary screamed “Heretic!”

  Teenage Martyr 100 Word Story Photo by  Austrian National Library  on  Unsplash The third time, the Claddagh knocker flew off the door when he slammed it The cops were pretty rough when they found Patrick in the after-hours, three days later,well-toasted at sixteen. After a few nights in juvenile, he was released to his mom and stepdad and was tired of running but not tired of rebelling. So the next time they pissed him off, he decided on a hunger strike. Took them a while to notice he was skipping meals, but when they did, Mom freaked. “You’re completely insane!” she shrieked. Patrick screamed right back. “Grandma worshipped  Bobby Sands !” I don’t generally write 100 Word Fiction that will require a bit of research on the part of the reader, but since the world is in a tumultuous time I thought it might be interesting to tie in a rebel who has probably been forgotten, though I’m sure Bobby Sands is still both worshipped and reviled in small parts of the worl...

  Difference of Opinion 100 Word Story Jimmy Doom Jun 12  · 1 min read Photo by  Thanh Mai Nguyen  on  Unsplash “That rent seems awfully cheap for a view of the river.” Ken sighed. It was audible over the phone. “You’ve always been a cynic, Guillermo. They’re just nice people, not gougers.” “What do they do for a living that allows them not to be gou gers?” “Political consultants,” Ken said. “ I don’t know which side of the spectrum, don’t really care. I gotta do light maintenance, mow the lawn, bring in the mail, which is what I’m doing right now.” “Political consultants?” Guillermo asked, rhetorically. “I never trusted that job.” Ken laughed at his friend’s paranoia, then Guillermo heard the explosion.

  Solar Power 100 Word Story Photo by  Sebastián León Prado  on  Unsplash When the off-ramp donations were sparse, Sherman hunted for returnables. Age was moving in without permission . It wasn’t just his joints that ached,  it was his very skin — dry, cracked, leathery. In a crevice by the viaduct, there was an old cola can that was so sun-bleached it looked like a whole different flavor. Sherm stopped, looked at his arms, baked brown like pumpernickel, when he had been such a pale kid. He wondered why the sun made living things darker and made artificial stuff begin to disappear when he felt like it should be the other way around.

  Cat Fight Photo by  Jari Hytönen  on  Unsplash Alphonse winced as the emergency doc stitched his temple. “Sounds like interesting work,” the doctor said. “It is,” Alphonse answered, but I never got a chance to explain to the lady that I’m the guy who recruits the cats to sample the food.” “She only heard ‘He does animal testing.’”