101 Words

Aeden was the most beautiful in that line of hopeful young Wodaabe men at the annual wife-stealing contest.

The first woman inspected each painted prospect. The men jostled, faced a practiced angle, and pivoted onto their toes to look taller. But it was Aeden’s relaxed stance and features barely touched with makeup that she stopped in front of.

Aeden turned slowly and looked into her eyes. His secret played prettily on his clamshell lips.

Aeden’s gaze dropped to the woman’s mouth, then…slowly…rose.

She lowered her eyes.

To be beautiful is to never be afraid, she thought, and moved on.

People disgust me. This is tallgrass prairie country, right? Practically the Great Plains.

So the grass grows, you guessed it—tall. Beautiful, environmentally friendly, tall grass.

Man, my yard. Just about perfect. Dandelions, wild strawberry, wild carrot. Sassafras saplings, clover, plantain. Delicious.

My girlfriend just moved in, did I mention? Dug a whole extra corridor in the burrow for her stuff.

Woman comes along this morning. Massive. Riding this gas-guzzling, roaring orange thing. Chews everything down into cropped green and dust.

Big smile on her face when it’s done.

I think we’re going to have to find a new place now.

“I’ll leave the heat on for you, honey,” he said to the toddler. “Daddy’s going to run into the store to get us something to eat. Stay buckled, okay?”

He hurried into the gas station with a handful of Powerball tickets and a prayer. In the chip aisle, he picked up a family-size bag of Cheetos. The price: $7.49. He put them back and grabbed a snack-size bag instead along with some milk.

At the register, head down, he slid the tickets forward.

“You’re a winner!”

His heart skipped a beat.

“$10. You want the cash?”

“How about three more tickets?”

Bill held the fish steadily in his hand, admiring its natural beauty. Lowering it back into the burbling river, he pushed it to his left and watched it swim upstream. Filled with joy from his first catch, Bill flicked his hook in search of the next capture; another fleeting pleasure.

That evening, as he stared at the gorgeous blue eyes dominating his screen, Bill absorbed the comeliness and read about her sophisticated life he would never share. He swiped to the left and let her features float away. A new smiling face appeared, as quickly as the previous one drifted downstream.

I had three secrets. One was my doctor telling me that I had barely six months to live.

With the number of painkillers consumed every day, I had prayed for a quick and painless death. I detested suicides.

My adopted son and lone heir seemed to be in a hurry to become the owner of my enormous wealth. My sources informed me about his plan to get rid of me soon through a quick and seemingly natural death. I secretly welcomed his plan.

My third secret was that I had changed my will, bequeathing everything to the local old age home.

I try to get up early enough, but usually only have time to grab toast and coffee as I rush out the door. I wear a suit and tie; the look is corporate. Every day I clamber onto another delayed train, squashed together in pickled intimacy. Mondays always start buried deep in a stranger’s jellied armpit, but by Thursday I’ve managed to maneuver upwards to someone’s chin, an end-of-the-week special.

I walk out of the station with the professional tidal wave, rolling out onto another weekday.

I don’t have a job as such. I just like the feeling of going somewhere.

Jyoti blinked at the sapphire ripples ruffling the iridescent composure of the lake.

She remembered the night she’d last visited it. Little Mohan was mewling in her arms. His infantile voice rose as she tied his legs and rolled him into the water. Jyoti stood there watching until her brother stopped flailing his arms.

“My beautiful boy,” Mother often raved. “My one and only.”

“I am Mother’s one and only now.” Jyoti repeated the words like an incantation.

And yet, Mother said nothing. All day, she just stared at the lake from her window—as if it called out to her.