The #100wordstory is just that, exactly one hundred words long.
If you have a story that fits this criteria. Email me, I would love to feature you.
Jim loved his mop and no other would do. He’d refused a replacement for so long that it was balding and worn.
“I won’t have it no more, either it goes or you go!” said his boss, pointing a thick, demanding, finger to the skip.
That night, Jim crept across the yard and plucked it back from the rubble. He spent their last night dancing on the moonlit lot to the yowls of cats, and the hum of the city at twilight.
Morning came and the boss found the mop back in the cupboard and heard screams from the yard.