101 Words

Lope lives by skimming the cream, id est he engages in slightly lightening other’s burden of wealth.

People assist him in that they leave valuables wide-open to his exploration and exploitation.

Lope’s skim is so slight it’s usually unnoticed.

If noticed, the value is so light the police demur.

Lope is enticed by a ring left exposed while a gentleman washes his hands.

“Hey, what the hell you doing?” exclaims the man while grabbing at Lope’s shirt front.

Lope writhes without avail.

“I thought twas mine.”

“Ya never had such,” pronounces the officer.

“In the old days.”

“Yeah, the old days.”

“You are late again,” she said and tightly clenched her fists, watching him walk into the bedroom. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you that I was working late. Maybe you should listen once in a while when I tell you something,” he persisted as he threw his car keys down on the bedside table and started towards the bathroom.

“I hope you were not seeing her again,” she yelled at his retreating back. “Especially after all the money we spent on the marriage counsellor.”

“No, that was worth every penny. I am sure he and I will be very happy.”

Lucas lived in his mother’s basement. It wasn’t bad as far as basements go. He had his own bathroom, it was reasonably dry, and there was even a small window that let in some light—or it would have, if Lucas had bothered to wipe off the grime and spider webs. But, somehow, grime and spider webs seemed so apropos to Lucas’s situation, he didn’t want to change anything.

The only trouble with living in his mother’s basement was she’d been dead for five years, and the people who now owned the house didn’t like Lucas living there all that much.

At school, Tim gasped for air as Lee lifted him by the throat. Tim squirmed, and Lee squeezed tighter. A teacher came around the corner and Lee dropped Tim, his knee cut on the gravel.

Father noticed the cut a few hours later. In the garage, Father gave Tim an introductory boxing lesson.

The next day, Lee cornered Tim again. Tim raised his fists, his heart pounding hard. Lee laughed. Tim got in one uppercut to Lee’s cheek. When the fight was broken up, Tim’s black eye pulsed. He wiped blood from his badly cut lip, hoping Father would be proud.

With Earth under Vordan rule, all human adults served twenty years on mining vessels.

On Alison’s 18th birthday, she wept in her living room, surrounded by friends. She wished her mother were alive to comfort her, or her father, if she’d known who he was.

The midnight hour chimed. The friends said goodbye.

There was a knock at the door.

Alison answered it. Mail Bot delivered a letter. Confused, Alison tore it open.

“It’s from my father,” she trembled, “a human living on Vordan. His loyalty bought my freedom.”

Sadness left the room, transformed into hate…and clenched fists.

Alison screamed.

“Portia, you wanna take a trip?”

“Where?”

“Hocking Hills”

“What’s there?”

“Rocks, waterfalls. Mom took me as a kid.”

“You want a childhood flashback?”

“No, I want to talk to my mom.”

“Your mom’s been gone years.”

“Yes, but Mom said if I wanted to talk to her after she passed, I should come there to talk.”

“Tosh, she meant like praying.”

“No, she meant talk,” says Wendella.

“That’s weird.”

“I know, but Mom said I should go.”

“You’re just pining.”

“I’m sure of what she said.”

“Girl, that was long ago.”

“No, Mom told me last night. In my dream.”