100 or Less: Boxes

During one of my recent breaks from novel writing, I decided to challenge myself to write a scene using 100 words or less centered around a particular idea or theme.

Today’s theme is “boxes.”

Please feel free to share your own 100 or Less story. And no cheating, not even an extra “the” or “an”! 😛

Box

The vodka’s terrible. A tiny plastic bottle he paid for with nickels and dimes. Slurping makes it last longer and keeps his mind off the boxes on the floor.

Banging. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up. He couldn’t give two shits where it’s coming from. It dies into just another background noise like the hissing radiator and the screeching dykes upstairs. Ugly ones.

Getting dark outside; the veiny walls turn blue streaked with piss yellow from the windows next door. They never bought shades or curtains like they were goddamn priests or something.

He wouldn’t miss any of them.

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13 comments on “100 or Less: Boxes

  1. Goddamn, you should turn this into a full story. I actually want to know more. Like, how did the walls get veiny and piss yellow? Is it Tito’s or Fleishman’s vodka? Are the dykes screeching from pleasure or because they’re having one of those notorious lesbian fights? I need deets, papi. Thank you.

  2. Why would priests not buy curtains or shades? The narrator isn’t going to miss them so I guess he or she is moving. He I’m guessing. Men seem to use the word ‘dyke’ more often than women. So why is he moving and to where? This leaves more questions. It’s a good hook.

    • Haha, that definitely follows the rules!

      Now I’m wondering: what’s inside of those boxes?

      Why are they in the cellar and not the attic?

      How many are a lot? 10? 100? Did you just move? Are they your boxes or boxes that were there when you bought the house?

      See? It’s a good start. 😛

      • Can’t you see how much thrilling did I generate with just eight words? Can you see what I did there? Kneel before me! KNEEEEEL!!! 😀

        Ok, enough 😛

        > I got lots of boxes in my cellar. I wish I had an attic to put all this stuff in.
        Sometimes, when people have to pack for a move or whatever, they find themselves ghatering all their pretty long and chaotic lives in a quite small amount of crap. What usually follows is an astonished “Oh my gosh, is that all?!?”
        I always knew it would have been a whole different story for me. Completely different. The only thing that amazes me is how putting something that once seemed so vital inside a carton turns it instantly into worthless junk. <

        (PS sorry for potential errors/mistakes, non-english speaker here :P)

      • Hahaha! “Kneel before Zod!”

        I really enjoyed your writing, especially the last line: “something that once seemed so vital inside a carton turns it instantly into worthless junk.” That’s so true, and it makes me feel bad about having my own stack of boxes.

        Now I’ll have to open up all those boxes and use whatever’s inside so that it’s not junk anymore! 🙂

  3. Perfectly square and made of rich dark wood, the top fit royally like a crown, unlike like other box tops. She saw it, she had to have it. She stopped short for a moment when she read the price, she actually stuttered but took a deep breath and put her credit card down.

    Why she had such obsession with boxes she had no idea, but if she saw one she liked she had to have it. This weakness cost her thousands so far.

    They were all beautiful, so different, so much the same. Smiling she picked up her newest treasure.

    • Very vivid, Linda! I could almost feel the character’s excitement, the anticipation. And it makes me wonder how many boxes exactly she’s bought so far. Does she put anything inside of those boxes or are they only for show?

      Thanks for sharing! 🙂

  4. Pingback: Friday Flash Fic | Tommia's Tablet

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