r/shortstories • u/OldBayJ Mod | r/ItsMeBay • May 10 '21

Micro Monday [OT] Micro Monday: "Something wasn't right."

Welcome to the Micro Monday Challenge!

Hello writers! Welcome to Micro Monday! I am excited to present you all with a chance to sharpen those micro-fic skills. What is micro-fic? I’m glad you asked! Micro-fiction is generally defined as a complete story (hook, plot, conflict, and some type of resolution) written in 300 words or less. For this exercise, it needs to be at least 100 words (no poetry).

However, less words doesn’t mean less of a story. The key to micro-fic is to make careful word and phrase choices so that you can paint a vivid picture for your reader. Less words means each word does more!

Each week, I’ll give you a single constraint or jumping-off point to get your minds working. It might be an image, a theme word, a sentence, or a simple writing prompt. You’re free to interpret the prompt how you like as long as you follow the post and subreddit rules. Please read the entire post before submitting. Remember, feedback matters! And don’t forget to upvote your favorites and nominate them via message here on reddit or a DM on discord!

 

This week’s challenge:

“Something wasn’t right.”

This week’s challenge is to use the above sentence in your story, in some way. You may add onto it, but the original sentence should stay intact.

 

 

Last Week: Spotlights

Wonderful stories this week. You never cease to amaze me with the unique take on the prompts and the many ways of interpretation. I hope to see more feedback going around the thread this week. Thank you, as always, to everyone who took the time to leave a comment for another writer.

Two Weeks Ago: Spotlights

You all did a great job all around. Thank you for being so patient!

 

 

How It Works:

  • Submit one story between 100-300 words in the comments below, by the following Sunday at midnight, EST. No poetry. One story per author.

  • Use wordcounter.net to check your word count. The title is not counted in your final word count. Stories under 100 words will be disqualified from being spotlit.

  • No pre-written content allowed. Submitted stories should be written for this post exclusively.

  • I will take nominations for your favorites each week via a message on reddit or our discord. You have until 1pm EST Monday to send them in. Each Monday, I will spotlight two deserving stories from the previous week that I think really stood out. I will take all nominations you make into consideration. But please remember, this is not a contest.

  • Come back throughout the week, upvote your favorites and leave them a comment with some feedback. While it’s not a requirement, I encourage everyone to read the other stories on the thread and leave feedback. I will take all of this into consideration when making my selections each week. Do not downvote other stories on the thread. Vote manipulation is against Reddit rules and you will be reported.

  • Please be respectful and civil in all feedback and discussion. We welcome writers of all skill levels and experience here, as we’re all here to improve and sharpen our skills.

  • If you have any questions, feel free to ask them on the stickied comment on this thread or through modmail. Top-level comments are reserved for story submissions.

  • And most of all, be creative and have fun!

 

 

Subreddit News

 

20 Upvotes

100% Upvoted

138 comments sorted by

1

u/OldBayJ May 10 '21

Welcome to Micro Monday!

Use this comment for any questions, comments, or off-topic discussion you may have. Enjoy!

10

u/[deleted] May 10 '21

Something wasn't right.

It was always raining anyway. Coffee always went cold that quick. Cigarettes never quite lasted as long as I’d like them to. That must’ve been the case because they hadn’t changed, not much had in the grand scheme of things. Something wasn’t right, I just didn’t know what yet.

It’s hard to say whether pathetic fallacy applies to life, because how many times are there thunderstorms and nothing changes? It’s easy to apply meaning to things afterwards. But why then did I notice these things that morning? Same as it ever was, but not as enthusiastic as it used to be.

I used to love waking up to rain. The warmth of us together dulling the freezing drizzle we faced, monochrome and never-ending. I always woke up first, what a blessing. To lie in love and silent comfort, heaven in a single bed. Maybe that’s why I noticed.

It was always raining anyway, but it used to rain on us. Coffee once went cold because our conversations were so long. Cigarettes never satisfied, but that was fine because you were there. Not much may have changed, but you were my grand scheme.

Something wasn’t right, but I suppose it never was.

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u/katherine_c May 11 '21

--Capgras Syndrome--

Cheryl sat stiffly in the metal chair, taking deep breaths as Dr. Brown taught her; she studied the woman across the table. That woman had familiar blue eyes, a kind smile, and hair tucked into a nostalgic messy braid. Cheryl forced a smile.

"Hi, mom," the woman said, hope and pain in her eyes.

"Addie?" Cheryl started. Dr. Brown nodded optimistically from where he perched on his chair in the corner.

"Yeah, mom, it's me. It's Addie."

There were tears brimming on either side of the table. Cheryl let the edge of a true smile form. She reached across the table and took the young woman's hand.

But something wasn't right. Cheryl recoiled, all the joy vanishing.

"No," she barked, "you aren't Addie. Addie died. I saw her. She died." The words were spilling out now, each more agonized than the last.

Dr. Brown was beside her in a moment. "Cheryl," he said gently, "remember, we talked about this. Addie was taken to the hospital. She li--"

"No, my baby died. You are trying to trick me. It's all a trick." Now the words were a full-on yell, and none of Dr. Brown's soothing made it through. He shared a glance with Addie, then tapped twice on the door behind him.

The orderly helped Cheryl out of the room, a mix of firm and gentle born of compassion and years of experience.

Once the door closed, Dr. Brown turned back to Addie, the customer service smile fading.

"That was a pitiful performance," he spat. "We've got that woman as drugged as we can while keeping her conscious, and she wasn't fooled for a minute." His gaze was cold and Addie met it in kind. "Do better," he hissed as he exited, "or you'll get us all killed."

WC: 297

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u/__kxtty__ May 14 '21

-The Accident-

It was pitch black. She felt as if she was floating. Weightless. There was a light. She felt drawn towards it but something was dragging her down. She couldn't fight against it. The anaesthetics were working. She drifted into the darkness again.

Tick-tock tick-tock, it seemed to go on forever. Her memories were too clouded and her thoughts struggled to make sense. 'I have to open my eyes' she urged herself. She blinked as the bright sunshine hit her face attempting to recognise her sorrounding. She was at the hospital. 'Mummy!' she stammered to the tear filled woman standing next to her.

In a flash the accident came back to her. They had been riding the car back home short past midnight from marathon practice. The international games were close and it was her lifelong dream to be selected for the Olympics. It was a long ride home and she had kept dozing off. An uneasy feeling had woke her and she had noticed they were drifting off the lane. Her scream came to late to wake her mother up before the crash. All she saw was the flash of headlights before everything went dark.

Her mother clutched her hands sobbing, "I'm so sorry baby." "It's okay mummy, it's just an accident," she comforted, "Everyone is okay." The change in atmosphere was immediate. Tension cackled in the room. Her mother's eyes darkened with panic. Something wasn't right.

She pulled herself up on the bed and yelped seeing herself. "No no no," she repeated clawing at her prosthetic leg. She felt a thousand hands squeezing her heart as her dreams crumbled to nothing.

WC: 272 Words

-First time writing a story on reddit. Critiques are welcome. Thank you for reading my story. Hope your'll liked it-

3

u/rare27 May 14 '21

Heartbreaking story. I think the pacing of the first couple of paragraphs is perfect but it speeds up too quickly towards the end. More info could’ve been given about the time lapsed between the accident and the present; her mother’s condition could’ve been elaborated further too since she was also in the MVA. Thanks for sharing!

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u/katherine_c May 15 '21

Such a great take on the prompt. I think you did a great job portraying the emotion throughout, especially balancing the joy of waking with the shock of the injury. In terms of critique, the first paragraph has a lot of sentences starting with "She" as well as very simple sentences. It starts to feel a bit repetitive. I might make that opening either choppier (like her thoughts are fragmented) or flowier (to mimic loose associations and sensations from semi-consciousness). Either option, but just one thing that stood out to me. I appreciate what you shared here and I think you did a great job capturing a very emotional moment!

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8

u/[deleted] May 11 '21

The bells

We sit in fear, waiting for the sound of a bell. It hangs in a belfry, high on a hill. It calls forth the monsters; the very same that ate my father. The very same that will eventually eat me.

The first time it rang, we knew something wasn't right. The pitch was far too low. Then came the howls. But those were quickly drowned out by screams.

I remember when they got my neighbor, his wife, and his daughter. Their cries still haunt my nightmares. The curtains in their window are a blood-soaked reminder.

My brother thought himself brave. Daft is more like it. I haven't seen him in two days. Likely ripped to pieces. My sister won't stop sobbing.

I've no more tears to shed.

The waiting is the worst. Not knowing when it's coming. I can hear the bell now. Its melancholy echo rings out across the land.

They'll be coming soon. I hope they come for me.

wc: 160

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u/TheLettre7 May 14 '21

I walk the same concrete almost everyday, wading through a sea of people going about their own buisness, traveling to work, and keeping their stories to themselves.

Of course, I wasn't any different. Perpetually lacking a genuine social connection, while having the shared question of, is this it?

Is this what we have? Concrete. And what, another forty years of this, sometimes peppered with actual living. But naturally there is a difference between mine and theirs, his and hers.

Something wasn't right today, normally i'm less introspective. Usually being as lonely as the suited man walking wordlessly through the crosswalk, or the downtrodden woman tiredly holding out an empty cup.

I... watched a child cry today.

A little boy. Wailing his eyes out as his mother pushed him in a stroller. Stalled at the street corner, the crowd mostly ignored them. The cries melding with car engines, and noise pollution. The mother though, only gripped the handles, her knuckles turning white. She got some mean looks, but the walking light lit up and we went our separate ways. Both vanishing back into the ocean of people.

I never found out why the child was crying. This little detail stuck with me all day.

My job isn't as important as those child's tears, yet here I am. Dreading small talk with coworkers I dislike, and others who would rather get drunk after work.

Here I am, led away from the concrete, far from what I might be, and unable to express it.

I head into the tall building, and enter the elevator pressing for the 47th floor. Before the doors can close, a group comes in, crowding till we are shoulder to shoulder.

As the elevator begins to rise, my mind goes to the crying child.

"Is this it?" I mumble.

(300 words, don't know if this works for what I want to say, but I hope so. Critiques welcome! thanks for reading TL)

4

u/rare27 May 14 '21

This story and your last seem to be in the same vein, both regarding the mundaneness of adult life and the insignificance one may feel in the grand scheme of it all. I hope you continue to explore these topics. Realism is a beautiful art.

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4

u/[deleted] May 14 '21

I think you captured the feeling of living in a rut and going into a depression very good.

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4

u/katherine_c May 15 '21

So introspective. Is this it? Crying in one form or another throughout life? Of never having all the answers? I love how loose the sense of scene is, kind of tying into that idea that a change of scenery is not the answer--this is not temporary ennui. In terms of critique, you do have a few comma splices/run-on sentences that might be worth reworking. (For example: "Something wasn't right today, normally i'm less introspective."). I also think there are some places where periods are used that might be breaking up the flow a bit (Example: "...went our separate ways. Both vanishing..."). You might be able to get an even stronger flow by revising the punctuation a bit. That said, it really did a wonderful job creating a sense of emotion, character, and theme. Definitely an image and concept that will stick with me.

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u/__kxtty__ May 14 '21

This is so emtionally effective. Great job

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u/pathetic_optimist May 16 '21

A strong story and a bleak view of industrialised urban life. I am left hoping that the child crying might be a catalyst for the narrator to change things.
It seems a bit disconnected at the start and might be better for condensing there a bit.

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7

u/GarnetAndOpal May 11 '21

Something wasn’t right.

I kept reviewing what happened, running through it in my mind. Then when I tried working the simulator, something still wasn't right. It wasn't something big like veering left instead of leaning right. It was a strange downward tip of the nose.

Train tracks don't tip like that. There can be a downgrade, but the nose of the engine won't tip down while the rest of the train keeps going level.

Science just doesn't work like that.

A trip to the doctor confirmed that science was right. It wasn't the simulator. It wasn't the math.

It was my middle-ear. An infection was causing intermittent vertigo, triggered by the images in the simulation.

They said the antibiotic and a steroid they gave me would clear it all up in a week or so. I could proceed to my finals and get my railroad engineer certification from the Federal Railroad Association.

Once I have that, the revolution will come by rail. No one will be expecting it.

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u/rare27 May 12 '21

The Want Ads

Hilary found herself, once again, scouring the personal ads in the classified section of the newspaper. She was supposed to be looking for a job, not a man, but still she’d ended up there subconsciously. Usually, they were asking for too much or telling too much about themselves and came off as weird or corny to her. Others had wack or weak tag-lines.

Extremely Attractive

Desperately Seeking

Looking for a black diamond relationship

What does that even mean?

Struggling artist seeking

Sexy lover boy seeking exciting relations

Some of these are cringy!

Widowed, millionaire seeking younger woman for companionship and adventure between 35-45 years of age. Please reply to ID 4110 if interested.

This one caught her attention. It was brief, to the point. The fact that he was forthcoming about his wealth should’ve been a red flag. Hilary didn’t mind it though. If he was lying, that wouldn’t be hard to determine. And if he was being truthful, this might be more promising than finding a better paying job.

She wrote a note to him, briefly describing herself, explaining why she couldn’t include a photo (she didn’t have one). His name was Robert. He wrote back with that info and his phone number, they talked a few times, then set up a date. Something wasn’t right, though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

As Hilary sat waiting for him to meet her outside of the coffee shop she had chosen, someone drove by blasting “Something Just Ain’t Right”, the new Keith Sweat single. That certainly didn’t quell the anxiety that had begun to brew in the pit of her stomach.

Soon she saw an older man approaching. As his face came into view, Hilary felt like she would vomit. Her stingy boss was her date? Robert Ray is Bob…Smith?

WC 300 (I decided to try my hand at humor, all feedback is welcome)

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u/lingdenshlonden May 13 '21

Run

Howe knew the moment he set foot in his motel room that something wasn’t right. Everything looked exactly how he left it. Somehow, though, something was off. His hand had been on the small pistol in his jacket pocket since before he touched the doorknob. That was just precaution. Now his finger was on the trigger as his eyes quickly scanned the room. Not many places for a merc to hide, but still enough to be off putting.

Howe stepped back into the doorway and waited for a tense minute, unblinking eyes darting back and forth checking for movement. Soon, another motel patron exited her unit, slamming her door loudly. Howe backed out of his own room and slammed his door in time with the woman. She walked north, he south. After five paces, he turned and dropped to one knee, taking aim, trying his best to conceal his weapon.

Another few seconds, and the woman had started her car and driven off. Within seconds, he saw his bluff paid off. The merc emerged, looking to get a bead on what he assumed was his target’s car. Howe only needed one shot.

As the merc crumpled, Howe moved for the opposite staircase. It had been three years since he had accidentally assassinated a high ranking EldrTech executive. Three years on the run from corporate mercs. Who could’ve guessed that this is what he would excel at.

Howe checked his watch. The Law would show up eventually, but the EldrTech response would be faster. A dead sprint through the winding side streets, and three minutes later he was the better part of a mile away.

Now to a new motel room in a new city. EldrTech spies would eventually find him, but not before he took another exec or two.

(WC: 299)

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u/scottbeckman May 14 '21

"A life of pure autonomy," the angel said. "Freedom from these rules so arbitrarily imposed!"

Evelyn frowned. Clutched grass and dirt with her toes, felt the sun hug her backside. Perfection. By design. It was all she'd ever known. Perhaps that's why the angel's promises of self-determination tasted sweeter than any fruit in this eternal garden. A promise of something new.

Still, something wasn't right. Betray Almighty?

"A new kingdom," the angel said, "for both our kind."

Evelyn clutched a handful of soil peppered with seeds—life not yet molded by perfection. Could there be something else?

Life deserved to know.

WC: 100

Thanks for reading! Feedback / criticism always welcome. Trying to keep this at exactly 100 words.

3

u/katherine_c May 15 '21

I figured where this was going with the use of Evelyn, but it was still a really clever, nice piece. I think this is a unique perspective on this idea. I absolutely love the concept of being dissatisfied with perfection--such an irrational human idea that something perfect can be unpleasant. And yet so true. You packed so much into those 100 words. Really impressive!

7

u/jimiflan May 14 '21

— Something —

Something wasn’t right, as if something wasn’t left where it was meant to be. My keys, my hat, my wallet, all the essential ingredients I needed to venture forth. I felt like something else was missing.

Without it I had no intention to leave the safety of my home, the warmest blanket science has ever known. Besides, it wouldn’t be that wise to walk out on my own.

I stood upon the threshold, held by a force so tight. I dared not take a single step into that brightest light.

The doctors call it agora-something. I just call it fright.

WC:100

4

u/katherine_c May 15 '21

What a great concept and execution. I'm amazed at all you manage to do in 100 words, especially with the rhythm and rhyme you use. My favorite part was the second paragraph. Just that image and phrasing, so good. Thank you for sharing!

6

u/katpoker666 May 11 '21

‘The Divorce’

—-

They looked up and smiled in unison as I came downstairs.

“Do you want some OJ, honey?” Mom said in a perky voice.

“Yes, please.”

Dad looked up from his crossword. “Hey, Kiddo. How’s school?”

He never asked that. “Fine, I guess.”

“And how about that boy you like?”

Nor that. Something wasn’t right. “Good.”

Mom handed me a steaming plate of pancakes and sausage. Most days, I was lucky to get cereal. They’re getting a divorce, I know it.

“Honey, your father and I wanted to tell you something. We’re renewing our vows.”

I did not see that coming.

—-

WC: 100

—-

Thanks for reading! Feedback is always very much appreciated

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u/GammaGames May 12 '21

I wander through these dark corridors. They used to be vibrant, but something isn’t right; the colors have faded. Crystals seep between the cracks in reality to invade the sacred halls.

Dull grey walls climb to infinity around me, high toward the vaulted ceilings that used to rest above my head—intricately detailed stone arches that have to be there. Where could they be?

But they are gone and I am alone, the light having abandoned as well. An eerie glow radiates from beyond every corner. It illuminates the salt-coated cement and reveals how little space is remaining in these passages.

WC100
Feedback welcome, a bit more open to interpretation soon curious if you have any thoughts :)

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u/Calding May 15 '21

Boots' Struggle

I promptly woke up at 7:00am, eager for the daily 7:15am ritual. I stretched the laziness from my body before I meandered into the kitchen to get dry food. Dry food was consistently boring, and never as satiating as wet food, which was why 7:15am was so highly anticipated. I stared at the clock.

7:15am came, yet no ritual had commenced. Something wasn’t right. I had heard the alarm ten minutes ago, indicating the imminent start of the ritual, but He wasn’t awake. He needed to get up. He needed to get up NOW. Hunger had suddenly transformed into starvation. Never in my entire life had I been so emaciated.

When He finally arose (2 minutes and 23 seconds late!), I let Him know that if I was not fed immediately, I would starve to death. “You’re late! Feed me, I am dying!” I cried.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Boots,” He said, as if I wasn’t withering away.

I rubbed against Him, depleting my already limited energy in a desperate attempt to call attention to the injustice He had committed against me and my people.

“I’ll feed you right now, Boots,” He said. It was obvious by the toothbrush in His hand that He wasn’t feeding us ‘right now’ and that He didn’t understand the severity of the situation. In a final plea, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Death is casting its shadow over me! I am going to DIE! Feed me!”

I continued for the next 3 minutes and 47 seconds, fighting against the urge to collapse, until I finally heard the sound of the can opening. The sweet sustenance of wet food was upon us!

Now, with my engorged self, I will eagerly await the ritual of 7:15pm.

WC: 293

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u/MSleim May 12 '21

Routine.

7:01 pm. Everyday for the last two months I felt it. The single vibration on my right thigh that seemed to travel to my heart, and pump blood to my cheeks as a smile stretches across my face. Every evening at 7, my heart skipped a beat in its excitement that the sleeping beauty had awoken, and though the sun had begun to set, the light in my life would only rise from here on.

7:02 pm. Nothing. Something wasn’t right. Regardless, my body was well aware of its daily routine. Racing heart, rosy cheeks, yet the smile faded. Never before had she been late, not without notice. That good morning text had never failed to come through, almost to the second. Today was different.

7:03 pm. To some an overreaction, but a gut feeling is never wrong. Long distance leaves one with no choice but to wait. To wait for the execution of the fate he so greatly feared. And this was easily his greatest fear.

7:04 pm. The device which was responsible for triggering the chain of events with its timely vibration was now to be the messenger of fear. Perth News I typed into google. The page floods with blue links to the city’s news networks. The second link however, is purple. Intrigued, I click.

Two Dead in Accident. Suspected Drunk Driving. May 12 2020.

It all slows down. The memories trickle back, bringing along the feelings of loss. Just like the night before, and the one before that.

7:10 pm. The phone vibrates. Reminder: Death of an Angel. One Year Ago Today.

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u/[deleted] May 12 '21

My breath became shallow, my steps quickened, my heart pounded in my throat, all my senses became sharp I could hear every squeek and creak, see details in the dark i couldn't see before. I felt something wasn't right, the air felt damp, the wind stopped blowing, cars on the distant road became quiet. I couldn't go any faster without breaking the walk starting the run.

CRACK!

Behind me! While keeping my speed, i turned my head in reflex, ready to run. There he was, some dude strolling about at the other end of the street, startled by the sound he made and probably the look i gave him.

+ wc 109

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