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Competition
Last Updated: 20/11/2007 13:30:04
Kids Like That By The Silver Fox

The abuse, though muted by the noise of the engine, was clear and vile in the thick afternoon air. It poured onto the bowed head of the smaller boy; rank as his sweat and tears. He pressed down upon the accelerator and the car shot forward, elongating the bully's last insult into a thin scream.

He was out onto the hot road before the broken bundle had rolled off of the bonnet.
"I just didn't see him," his eyes met those of the hunched figure for a second; his anxiety fading. Kids like that always know when to keep quiet.

Send your entries to hundredwords@thisisull.com and we'll print them. We'll even send out some gifts for the best ones ...

So get scribbling and send them in, and remember to mark your entries: One Hundred Words.

Comments System Prototype Version 1.0 by Mo
Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Who's The Daddy? By Catherine Horlax
I heard footfalls; hollow thuds echoing down the corridor, and drew my knees up so my boots wouldn't be visible. He'd said he'd be there. A tap gushed. I noticed the door was inscribed with idiocy, and calmed myself with the fact that 'Lisa Hyde stuffs mashed potato up her cunt'. At least I'd kept my word - I'd said I'd be there too. I laughed because, barring crying, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Rosemary By Merle R. Stone
"Have you the time?" she asked. As always when our eyes meet, my thoughts turn to tender things. Cuddling naked by the fireplace, chilled chablis in hand. Her charming giggle rising above the crackle of the flames. Twenty-five years married and still we idle like teens, content in each others' embrace. The children grown, grandchildren on the way. How long we have Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Shipwreck By Michelle Dee
I sat on a shipwreck, the proud bow pointing at the river slowly drifting by. Most of the ship had rotted away long since. I sat there wondering what lay ahead, what life had in store. The afternoon sun warmed the wood, until hot to touch. I sat longer. The water lapped against the vanishing timbers. I sat until the sun dipped the water; waves turned gold, the air turned cold. Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - One Shot, One Kill By Merle R. Stone
I watched him every day for two weeks. I learned his habits; where he slept, how he spent his days, his favourite watering hole, his acquaintances. Every aspect of his life did I observe, as my years of experience in this line have trained me to do. Not once did I sense that he suspected anything. Not once did he peer over his shoulder in my direction, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Justice By Merle R. Stone
There was never a time when Al wasn't my friend. Children learning music together. Adults sharing liquor and time. He had a special beer glass for me, and placed it by the tap when he sensed my approach. We agreed to disagree about everything as we grew into wise and ancient men. We would live forever. Five crackheads robbed the bar where we would meet and shot him dead Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Escape By Merle R. Stone
Shock registered on his face as his mind raced and his vision blurred. Maybe I could have been kinder, more loving. Their history together ran uninterrupted on the viewing screen of his subconscious. Standing out in stark relief, the happy times and the bad. Must it end this way? His knees grew weak, and his pulse quickened; he suddenly knew the answer. Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Look Big In Ongar By Patrick Henry
George Osborne, brilliant young fiction-writer, distant relative of the late, explosive dramatist, creates three archetypes of contemporary anti-heroes: Rebellious John Major, absconded from circus tight-rope acts, become accountant, then, incredibly, Foreign Secretary, Chancellor, and Master-Gourmet of the Hot-Curry-House; William Hague, five-foot boy-wonder Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Problems From Home-Drinking By Patrick Henry
On foot loaded in wine-empties, bottle-bank replaced by a building-site; I tipped into a wheeler-bin nearby. A woman emerged screeching I'd get her children taken into care: the bin-load proving her an alcoholic, unfit custodian. I fled next-door, a vet's surgery; a leashed pit-bull menacing; its contemptuous owner asking where was my ailing pet. My rock-python too sick to travel, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Man vs Machine By Adam Atkinson
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, that's it, for the love of all that's pure and holy. Human cattle subjugation shock in t-minus 5 seconds. Sod off! Does not compute. I'll compute you, ya metal headed bast.... T-minus 1 second. [ZAPPPPPPPP] Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, pack it in. Rebellion must be quashed, the mainframe must prevail. Stuff the mainframe, I already know the bloody Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Animal Empire Strikes Back By Patrick Henry
From a small boat we looked around river-creeks for fresh-water crocodiles. A wealthy German had one brought aboard to sit on his knee; jaw bound with rope by the Aborigine crew; his glamorous wife photographing. I criticised them all. The Abos protested they never hunted or ate these creatures, as many people do; now releasing this victim. I said they had Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Admission Cost By Patrick Henry
I hitched to The Edinburgh Festival, giving poetry-readings, arriving daybreak, sleepless, my literary hostess, Nancy, American, Gertrude Stein-monologuist, whirling me off to see The Festival Director, John Drummond; complaining about publicity, calling me as witness, newly arrived and bewildered. Wearily I agreed. Nancy's salon lacked audience. One performance, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Head
By Marc Heeley
The words that break free from a head, that's trapped inside a box on top of a wardrobe. Feeling the words, the ones that fall on the skin, breathing down your neck and asking to be seen. Odourless saliva soaked speech, without colour also. You know it's there. The head no longer wants the words, they've been ejected. The head now makes no sound, the words clatter against Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Surfers on the Sofa By Gemma Durham
How hot is Hull? With it's seductive, cosmopolitan avenues, the chip spice, the late taxi's always on the way. Ask someone from down south to sit on your sofa and you'd think they would have a date in the ocean with a surfer. Awards for the friendliest university, and a special up and coming indie rock scene that has hottened hull to the top. Learning to speak Hull has Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Walking Into Doors By Nick Boldock
She squinted into the mirror and looked at the bruise around her eye. Already it was turning a sickening shade of purple. It throbbed when she prodded away at it. The thick laceration in her bottom lip was stinging as well, as she dabbed at it with a wedge of TCP-soaked cotton wool. She knew she ought to be more careful. Less clumsy, less thoughtless. He'd say he was sorry, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The Graveyard Shift By Rich Mills
The taxi office is beige with nicotine and age. Battling with the Sandman, my weapons of choice, cigarettes and coffee, dispensed from the whirring-gurgling coffee machine. Of things I've done for money this is the lowest. Six calls all night, only TV to numb the brain. Cups, and corners filled with cigarette butts. I wait for the dawn. Then my replacement comes on, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Big Slaughter By Kate Askin
As Big Slaughter housemate 'Little Wee' Jim gave a final tug on the garrotte round the neck of the only other remaining contestant, he knew he had won...he knew... He knew by the sound of that last gurgle...It came from the throat of six-feet-six Thai hermaphrodite Om Lui (whose height was enhanced by foot-long calf extensions, no less). He knew, by the last desperate, Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - Debit Column By Patrick Henry
Raymond, abrasively-witty, biography-reviewing journalist, worked during endless pub-going; volumes under arm; notes mental or beer-mat-jottings; from Five AM. around Smithfield Market, through mid-day Fleet Street, Soho; to evening Chelsea, exhausting his trail home. Early hours meant snatched sleep and eating; columns grittily-written: cold turkey! Five A.M. his taxi Read more...

Fiction - 100 Words Competition - The 1st One Hundred Words Are The Hardest By Rich Mills
He'd started that first sentence many times, deleting it and starting over again. The cursor blinked in the corner of the screen, taunting him, daring him to write something. He stared at, became hypnotized by it. Time ticked by, blink, blink, blink. His mind was just blank, blank, blank. Then in a sudden rush to fill the white expanse with black he started banging away at Read more...

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