The Host

By Kathy Fish
One day, my indignation manifested as a ruptured appendix. I took it for indigestion because my indigestion had always been a manifestation of my dissatisfaction, from which I continued to suffer.


By Jeff Simonds
Until I took it off, I never realized how much I noticed my wedding band (chiming quietly against utensils, loosening its grip when I showered, orbiting my finger secretly throughout the day).

Hanover Park

By Chuck Augello
Their first date: an old plaid quilt spread over damp grass, pint-sized cartons of vegetable fried rice, a wayward kite trapped in the branches of an ancient elm tree.

Photo Story: A Family o...

By Elaine McKay
Dad enters stage left, and his voice is louder than the television. He points his syllables accusingly.

My Future Depends On It

By Miriam Ben-Yoseph
I was 15 when we left Romania. It was 1965. Ceausescu just came to power. At the airport they searched our luggage and peered into our bodies.

Photo Story: The Other ...

By Melissa Jacob
My daily constitutional treads a familiar story arc. Swerve raccoon-eyed adults being dragged along by relentless toddlers.


By Sabrina Hicks
The silence in Sarah’s head had texture—waves licking sand, leaving foamy layers. She blinked in a doctor removing his mask.

Birds in Heat

By John Paul Martinez
There’s a stain on the left wing. She tells me she doesn’t know how it got there, but I know it’s from when she was younger.


By Charmaine Wilkerson
When the earth beneath their stone houses started to crumble they said, this, too, will pass. When the foundations cracked and the walls fell into the dust, they moved into wooden houses.


By Todd Mercer
The upstairs shower? Solid pressure ‘til it cuts to drizzle. Incomplete rinse of foam from an eye. That’s life, when the downstairs toilet flushes.

Final Tally

By Cathy Safiran
The letters were crude block capitals, searing ink poked into the skin on her thighs with a sewing needle wielded by her own hand.

Announcing the 100 Word...

Each 100 word story is its own kind of special. Now you can read 117 of our favorites published over the past 6 years in "Nothing Short Of: Selected Tales from 100 Word Story."


By Ariel Berry
We are a family of collectors. We have diverse interests and collect many kinds of things. Rocks, stamps, small pieces of licorice.

Lost Downstream

By Linda Grierson-Irish
Our father was an ancient river god. We, his fish, speared by his glance, gutted ‘til our mangled hearts bled, steeped in his ale-soused breath.

Photo Story: The Doll I...

By Ryan Dempsey
They’d tried to forget it, tried to leave it in Raleigh, but it made the trip, hiding amongst the other boxes still sealed from the move.

Photo Story: welcome to...

By Madison Blair
my first lover smelled of indiana; cigarettes, dust, and cheap leather. the one after him, kentucky (bourbon and broken horses), and the last, a hint of florida (citrus, salt, and spring break,) and a dash of texas (barbeque, heat.)


By J. Bradley
You watch your mother and father kiss one last time before their ashes marry, just like what happened to all the other parents.

Full-Length Mirror

By Paul Strohm
Claire has been wanting a full-length mirror in our New York apartment. How come, I want to know. You can look at your top half in the bathroom and you see your feet any time in the shoestore.

Photo Story: Winter Bir...

By Kris Faatz
Every winter, thinner ice on the lake, rotting and fragile. Soon the birds will go farther north, chasing the last crystal cold.


By Kathy Steblen
Fourteen days holed up here with peels of wallpaper, like streamers, looping in mock festivity above my head.