How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week #170

Anyone can join in, click below:

This week’s prompt:  …the scent was overpowering… + 100 words



First a wisp, then the smoke billowed denser and angrier.

Boys? Georgie? His mother peered through the doorway across the rolling fields and trees. “Georgie!”

She dashed inside, rang the fire-hall, and face alabaster, charged out again. Two boys hooted and swayed towards her in drunken fashion.

“You okay? How’d the fire start?” The twelve-year-olds howled with ridiculous laughter. She grabbed each by an arm and tugged towards home. “We’ll talk later. Better hope the house doesn’t catch fire.”

The wind shifted and the scent was overpowering. Fire bells clanged nearby. The odor seemed familiar, yet… “Lordy. Someone’s marijuana crop’s burning in our backyard.”


© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles


100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week #157

To join in, click below

This week’s prompt is and so it begins… +100 words



Tom kicked the night table. “Lousy life.” The lamp crashed to the floor, yanked back by its cord. “Time for new coordinates.” He grabbed the whiskey bottle before it tipped. The neck tight in his fist, he guzzled the last mouthful and slammed it on the dresser.

His head snapped at the urgent fist on the door.

That your car on fire?”

Outgrown hair shoved aside, Tom snatched his knapsack and dashed to the bathroom window. Sweat streamed from every orifice. “Come-on, come-on.” He grunted and heaved.

The front door exploded.

Tom bolted.

And so it begins again. The Witness Protection Plan doesn’t work.


© 2014 TAK


100-Word Challenge for Grown-Ups – Week #131

To join, check out Julia’s Place and  ‘What is 100WCGU?‘  This week’s prompt: when the night demons visit.



A wispy-haired woman stabbed wood into the yawning woodstove. Jason read at the kitchen table. The autumn wind rattled the windows and shook the dilapidated farmhouse.

“Louder, son.”

He paused and cleared his throat, licked his forefinger, and turned the page. The kerosene flame flickered and hurled giant silhouettes around them. “You can’t hide when the night demons visit.” He leaned closer to the meagre light.

She slammed the lid lifter and glared down at him. “Demons? What demons?” Insistent pounding silenced her. “Did you bolt the door?”

Eyes bulging, Jason shook his head.

“Let us in.”

“Who’s us?”

“Freddy and me.”

“But. You’re. Dead!”


Flash in the Pan – Deranged

Harry flicked his Bic lighter. Click. Snap. The round bartender’s teeth clenched. Two stools down, Benny gawked, mesmerised. His carpenter’s hands ironed denim thighs.

morgueFile free photos

morgueFile free photos

Click, Snap. “What’s you lookin’ at?”

“Nothin’.” Benny rocked in time with the click—regular as a metronome.

“You smoke? Here—I quit.”

Fast as a frog plucking flies, Benny snatched the prize.

“See you around.” Harry vanished.

Click, snap. The bartender smacked his towel hard on the bar. Benny bolted, his beer only half-gone. “That boy’s deranged.” No-one paid attention.

Late that night, smoke and fire-trucks’ lament dominated the dark. The tavern crackled like kindling.

~ * ~

A new Fall Quarter of Flash in the Pan has begun. The theme is Disturbed.

The word limit for Deranged is 100 words. I used them all.

Click: to check the rules and to join.