Goosebumps were itching on Eddie’s skin as he looked down into the pool 33 feet below. His head snapped back and he squeezed his eyes tight, a sharp breath hissing between his lips as his toes curled over the edge of the board.
“Okay, that was dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb!” Eddie whispered. The crowd below had fallen silent.
The world froze for a heartbeat,…
“Hey, Charlie Brown! Time to go splat!”
Anger forced Eddie’s eyes open. People were laughing. People were always laughing. All the time.
Everyone except Mrs. Gomez.
The trembling boy raised his arms.
She would be watching.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Markus Spiske via Unsplash.
Take a gander at the other romance and coming of age short stories by clicking on the links to the left!
See you tomorrow for another 100 word short story!
“Go ahead, Senator.”
The scientist was gesturing to the wall, smiling proudly. Gingerly, Senator Steele pressed his palm to the glass.
A wave of light instantly slithered over the surface, melting and shifting into a perfect copy of Senator Steele’s face. The scientist was almost clapping in his excitement.
“I am Senator Steele,” the politician stated.
I AM SENATOR STEELE the computer replied, in perfect mimic to the Senator.
“Is that all it does?”
Behind the glass, banks of microchips were thinking.
I AM SENATOR STEELE. I AM TARGET NUMBER ONE. DELETION WILL OCCUR IN SIX DAYS.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Verne Ho via Unsplash.
Today’s One Word title was donated by award-winning TV writer and author Robert Shearman. If you’re a Doctor Who fan you’ll know him as the scribe of the 2005 story “Dalek” and a number of Big Finish stories, including my personal favourite “The Chimes of Midnight”. Thank you Robert!
Robert suggested his title on Twitter and you can too – just tweet it to me @
See you tomorrow for “Plunge”
Detective Danson ripped into his sandwich, spitting chunks of bread over the sidewalk as he waved Constable Keegan away.
“There’s nothing more to it. Family says she fell. “Spinster dies in accident”: Case closed.”
“Really?” asked the Constable.
The Detective shot Keegan a glare as the Constable turned and trotted across to the Precinct Morgue.
Later that evening Keegan stepped back into his apartment, flinging his magnifying glass onto the table and sitting thoughtfully.
Her ring finger was worn. There was fear in her eyes.
“Was I right?” came a voice from across the room.
“You always are,” Keegan sighed.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Gratisography.
Today’s one word title was donated by the breathtakingly talented Izabella Grace – author of sublime Flash Fiction at http://flashfictiononline.com/main/authors/izabella-grace/. You can follow her on Twitter @.
This is the OWOS debut of two established characters – Keegan and Lestrade from my Holmesean short thriller “The Santa Beneath the Ice” – available on Amazon. You can read Chapter One of that story Free here (opens a PDF).
If you want to suggest your own one word story title, please do! I’m always looking for new words 🙂 Just pop your word in the comments box below or tweet it to me @
See you tomorrow for “Nightmare”!
“It has been quite extraordinary weather, wouldn’t you say Sir?”
The tailor zipped the measuring tape around the Captain’s chest, his chattering filling the silence as the soldier looked out into the street. His wife and kids were waving at him from the pavement, pressing their faces against the glass while the tailor’s back was turned. The Captain stifled a laugh.
The tailor flinched. “Sir, Please,..”
The shop was gone.
Only the desert remained. Only the bullets. Only the blood. Only Private Allen’s twisted body as he begged for help.
The Captain collapsed into tears at the words.
“…. Sir,……… please,…..”.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Jacob Valerio via Unsplash.
PTSD is a harrowing burden that I would not wish on anyone. I hope in this story that people reflect a little on it with compassion and care.
I’m looking for new one word story titles all the time! Tell me yours in the comments section or tweet them to me@ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
I’ll see you again tomorrow for “Suspicion”.
The Commodore stood on the balcony, his arms spread wide to the crowd below.
“This, my friends, is the start of a new country! A new hope! A new dawn for you – free from the corruption of the old ways!”
Jubilant cheers echoed from building to building. Horns blared from every street as the Commodore cupped his hands together and shook them in triumph.
Behind him a man in a black suit was inspecting a model of an oil field, lifting a letter from beside it and lighting the corner with a match.
“Thank you, Commodore. That will do nicely.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016.
This story is dedicated to the memory and family of Jo Cox, MP for Batley and Spen in the UK, who was shot and killed earlier today. Jo was a fearless fighter for justice, peace and the good of her constituents. She was a wonderful example to us all. My thoughts are with her family.
A stubby finger pushed a pawn across the board, cigar ash falling around the piece in a halo of smoking debris. Churchill growled and smiled.
“There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare,” the Britain stated, leaning back into his leather armchair.
A rook slid across the board to threaten the pawn. Churchill frowned.
A finger tapped against the board, sweeping away the cigar ash with disdain.
“That is why this war will be short,” came a replay from across the table.
Churchill slipped a knight to checkmate his opponent’s king.
“But it will be won.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Maarten van den Heuvel via Unsplash.
I’ve no idea why but the first image I had for this word was Churchill sat drinking with Hitler pleasantly. It adapted in the writing but,… what an extraordinary idea,…. I mean, what would they talk about?! There’s a hell of a book in that,….
Hit that follow button and like the OWOS Facebook page for more! Suggest your own one-word titles by popping your word in the comments below.
See you tomorrow for “Manifesto”.
“Hey, there’s still stuff up here!”
Peter’s head was poking through the loft hatch, his hand tugging at the light chord.
“What was that, honey?”
“There’s stuff! Boxes.”
Liza watched as her husband lifted himself into the attic.
She sipped her coffee. “Any antiques?”
“For your Pop to sell for beer money?”
“I was thinking of renovations.”
Something fell down and clattered at Liza’s feet – a child’s doll, its face smudged with soot. Dead glass eyes stared up and she choked at the sudden smell of smoke.
“Honey,…” Liza’s voice was a hoarse whisper.
“We need to go.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Rodion Kutsaev via Unsplash.
Today’s word was suggested by Bristolian and avid supporter of the OWOS project “Orignal Tracey”. You can follow her on Twitter @.
Tracey suggested her word by sending me a tweet – you can too! Tweet me @ with the hashtag #onewordonestory and I’ll write a 100 word story just for you!
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See you tomorrow for “Principle”.