Taneka Street Writer

My Place of Literary Exploration

100 word stories 100 Word stories

About Of Liars and Thieves...

When I was in middle school there was a lot of discussion among my peers as to what plagiarism was. Many of them thought of words as just words and they were jealous , and even angry , about my ability to write and not plagiarize. It led to a lot of bullying , but in the end I stood up , and got the grade for the nicely written assignment. Some people plagiarized got caught , and didn't make it. I sometimes wonder if they have learned their lessons and became serious writers. There is a reference to a rare event in this story can you pick up on it ? You might be pleasantly surprised.

Story 1: Of Liars and Thieves

I wrote something once. Writing it in the harsh ink of life. When it was ready people said,  "write smooth things of old ". I responded,  "A liar may lie, but you can' t steal words. They are sealed in the safe of life. You may copy and paste, but you will never own. The words testify to the theft, poisoning the Matrix of success. " You stare at my words, and I stare back defiantly. I will not print lies. Even though , the truth may sting like alcohol in a cut. It must be said.

Lest we provoke the anger of God.


About Story 2 Stray Cat....

Of all of the four 100 word stories that I wrote for this site this is my favorite. Why? Because it actually happened. I was out walking one day and saw the most beautiful feral cat that I had ever seen. She had no collar , and I knew that if I reached for her she would not let herself be petted. No , she was a free animal , and wanted to stay that way. She looked at me in that creepy way that only a cat can. When I walked away she scurried off. I never saw her again.

Story 2: Stray Cat

I was walking down the street when I saw paws with golden eyes caught by the headlights of a passing car. Somewhere a dog barks and the feline scampers under a car. Her eyes meet mine from across the road, and they say,  "I want no part of you , and yet I am aloneā€ . We barely know one another, but we are together tossed out into the trashcan of life , and wasted. The dog is barking this time closer , and we don't stay long enough to see his bushy tail. Instead , we flee separately, the moon frowning at our cowardice.

story 3

About Story 3: A House with a Shed

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. One day when I was surfing the web I found a simple black and white picture. It was of an old shack. I could have written an entire book based on that picture , but for the sake of time (and practice) I had to settle on 100 words. All of these stories were hard as I am not used to word limits. But , I pushed through and sliced and diced until I eventually got down to 100 words. It was quite a journey indeed , and I hope to take it again in the future.

Story 3: A House with A Shed

The house sits quietly with its silent afterthought, the shed holding God knows what. You would never know it was there. Draped in shadow like a cat crouched waiting to strike with retracted claws. There were things in the shed untold memories, but they're gone now. Taken out to care for the never-ending growing grass of time. The kids roll in it and laugh. The dogs dig it up and eat, settling upset stomachs. All along the shed stood quietly. Giving its secrets to everyone who cared to hear. No one listened. Instead, they moved on, silent in their work.

Thanks for Reading.

Taneka Street