100 Word Story by Stephen Harris
Nothing makes a man look as innocent and unthreatening as a good pair of glasses with thick solid frames. How could I possibly be intimidating? Look at me, I can barely see.
It’s three in the morning at the bus terminal. Why am I awake?
Few things make you feel as alone as being surrounded by people you don’t know. Being surrounded by people you know who don’t know you back is one of them. Being with people who are the ones who are supposed to know you, but don’t, is even worse.
When I was young, I used to write letters to fairies. I would spend all morning writing them down, and then my grandfather would show me how to fold them into tiny paper boats.
I used to think I was in love with my bank teller. Her name was Jules. She never actually gave me her name herself, but that’s what her name tag said. Jules... Jules. Such a beautiful name. Jules. Like units for electricity, “joules”. Oh I thought there was some serious electricity between us. It just … Continue reading Bank Teller
I feel like a potato in a potato sack. Covered in corse, rough, utterly disgusting, Burlap. Perhaps the ugliest material in the word- burlap. I wake up at eight, ride the Number 26 bus to work, get there by nine, and the rest is just an endless stream of burlap. Nine to five, nothing but … Continue reading Burlap Cubicles