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“Are you okay?”
Bill didn’t dare say. There was too much work hanging on this.
The bare, black door stood between him and his future. 40 minutes from now, a hundred people could have work enough to last a decade. He could already see their smiles and their joy. He could already feel their relief.
Bill clutched his shoulder and winced, shaking out his arm as his head swam and his chest tightened. He raised his hand to knock. He was so close. So close.
“I’m fine,” he spat, striking his knuckle to the door.
Just 40 minutes,…
It’s about time,…..
Yup, I’ve started writing OWOS stories again! After a period of Burnout, I feel able to get back into the swing of these again – maybe not every day but I’ll try at least every week.
It’s good to be back 🙂
Suggest a word in the comments below!
Palm flat. Hand turned up. He’s waiting for you.
Don’t reach out too fast. Don’t seem desperate: make him wait for it. Listen to the crowd and let the moment breathe. Let it happen.
Step away. Hear the hiss of air through ten thousand sets of teeth. Don’t smile at it – remember who you are.
There it is,… the boos have started, spreading through the arena like a virus. Glorious.
Now is the time. Step back through the ropes.
An hour of agony and blood. A smile between secret friends.
“Hellava match, man. Hellava match,….”
“Same time tomorrow?”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Martin Kníže via Unsplash.
So this is my take on the word “Recompense”, what’s yours? Write your own and pop me a link! And if you’d like to suggest a word for me to use as a title, please do!
Today’s word was suggested by Marple25Mary – a short story writer and connoisseur who can be found at https://marple25mary.wordpress.com/. Say hello.
“Go on,… it’s just above you”
The words were a gentle whisper, a breath caressing the young woman’s ear. She could hear the tittering laughs of others around her, a ribbon of muslin tied tight over her eyes.
She rose to the tips of her toes and her fingers brushed something warm. She chased to grasp it, her foot twisting: her body falling to the ground. There was a gasp.
“It’s alright” the girl said as she slipped off the blindfold.
The eyes of the other slaves were fixed on the open door.
“I’m,… sorry Misses. We were just playing,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Stelios Kazazis via Unsplash.
My word today was “Pantry” – what story would you write if that was the word you were given? That’s the challenge: you have 100 words with “Pantry” as your title. Write it, link it back to me and let’s see what you can do!
Today’s word was donated by Nthato Morakabi, a fellow short story writer and journalist from Sunny South Africa. You can find out more about him at http://nthatomorakabi.com/.
There is a new challenge for One Word One Story: write your own story based any of the one word titles I’ve already used, or based on a title you’re donating to me!
I’ve been given “Fireball” as a word and I’ll be posting my own take on it shortly. JM Williams, the fabulous sci-fi writer who’s donated said word, has already written his take – and here it is!
– What would YOU write if given 100 words and the title “Fireball”? Pop something together and link it here!
Hattie held the leaf high, watching as the blackened surface melted and crumbled, the wind snapping the stem and sending the remains twisting to oblivion. Her eyes focused beyond it: to the greenhouse stretching high above, its precious cargo of rare species now writhing beneath a sea of tiny black beetles. Hattie remembered the first watering of each plant trapped inside: her tears gave final succour to the earth below.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Sandis Helvigs via Unsplash.
A bit of a departure, here – I came across this https://only100words.xyz/2016/11/24/three-line-tales-week-forty-three/ on my travels and it sparked my imagination. Do visit Sonya’s blog – there’s plenty to enjoy!
Four propellers cut through the air – interminable and unending as the aircraft chased the setting sun.
Birds flew close to the white beast as it whistled above the cliff. It had done so countless times. Lights blinked and cameras focused, mapping and fixing its target: the endless dusk, high above the world.
No human eyes watched. No hands guided the craft. Silently the lone sentinel flew on, solar panels reflecting the endless sun.
Below, a city drifted by – skeletal: blackened long ago. Carrion for the winds.
The drone requested information.
No reply came.
No reply ever came.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Josh Rose via Unsplash.
Thanks to author Carin Marais for today’s word! You can read her work at https://maraiscarin.wordpress.com/ – pop by and say hello 🙂
Have a look around at a few other stories and share them far and wide. If you’ve a one word title, tweet it to me @ or write it the comments of this post. Who’s next?
Learn more about Tim and his work at https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tim-Austin/e/B00JI0LM7I/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_book_1
The old man watched each face as his motorcade weaved through the cheering crowd. Some hadn’t eaten for days, their hollow eyes begging his blessing.
Through the car’s speakers, a voice was listing the itinerary of the day.
“At 8 you have the talk in the main square. We’ve already prepared it – the usual concern for the poor, a wish to heal old wounds and reach across divides.”
The old man smiled to the crowd.
“Later, we need to discuss the portfolio. $30bn is still tied up in Switzerland.”
“Leave it there,” the old man growled. “All of it.”
(c) Tim Austin, 2016. Image by Nacho Arteaga via Unsplash.
“Saint” was suggested by bestselling author Sue London, whose various (superb!) works can be found on Amazon, here, alongside other outlets. If following people on Twitter is your bag, you can find Sue @.
Hit that “Follow” button, below and to the right, and don’t forget to visit the OWOS Facebook Page for more content!
See you tomorrow for “Endangered”!
Isaac looked down at his sleeping daughter, his fingers stroking gently at the edge of her crib. A shard of moonlight bathed the child and, in the quiet serenity of the nursery, Isaac couldn’t imagine any sight more beautiful.
“I,…” He swallowed the words down. He knew she couldn’t hear him but the pain was too raw. “One day you’ll understand”
“You must wake her.”
His wife was rushing, their suitcases clutched tight in her hands.
“Isaac! We don’t have time!”
Angry shouts and breaking glass split the air. Isaac’s daughter smiled, dreaming.
“Give me this one moment,… please.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Jilbert Ebrahimi via Unsplash.
Though it seems we already have.
Tomorrow brings my 100th story! What will it be? Visit tomorrow morning to find out!
“Hey, Gramps! This ain’t your skate park, bro!”
The old man brushed his jacket sleeves and sat. He smiled as the gang slowly circled around him.
“This ain’t no tea shop, old timer” the largest boy snarled. “Can you hear me?!”
The boy reached out to flick the stereo off but the old man raised his palm. His head was nodding to the beat.
Fingers padded at the keys of a trumpet. The gang shifted on their heels as the old man lifted the instrument to his lips.
A knife gleamed.
A knife fell.
The party lasted all night.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Matteo Paganelli.
Today’s story title was suggested by the wonderful Ian Sutherland, author of the bestselling thriller Invasion of Privacy. You can follow him on Twitter @ Thanks Ian!
As ever, if you’ve a title idea, pop it in the comments to this story or tweet it to me @.
See you tomorrow for “Election”!