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100 words

May 25
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100 WFC: Rear View Mirrors by Wayfarer

By General Posts

100 word fiction contest continues…. #100WFC

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REAR VIEW MIRRORS by Wayfarer

They come in pairs. You buy ’em in pairs. That’s how it is with motorcycle rear-view mirrors. You can’t just pick one out of the pile and use it. It’s a set, like my Mom’s cutlery – you break one, you can’t buy just one!

I should’ve attended the summer camp for off-road terrain. I was a prick. I could’ve paid attention to the neighbour’s kid showing off his skills. Thought he was a prick. Busted motorcycle, broken ego.

On the beaten track, I got beat. There is no looking back in life. Move onward!

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Yup, its a weekly contest open to all. Just sign up for the free weekly newsletter by clicking here.

Then email us your 100 word limit fiction to the editor wayfarer@bikernet.com

May 24
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100 WFC: Been There Done That by Steven Sanner

By General Posts

100 word fiction contest continues…. #100WFC

BEEN THERE DONE THAT by Steven Sanner

Well, I didn’t think it could happen to me. Everyone has had the feeling of deja vu at least once in their life. Some have had it more than once.

There I was, just sitting on my old ridged Shovel at the red traffic light, just enjoying the day when I got the feeling that I needed to get off the bike and run, and that’s what I did. I bailed off that thing like there was a rattlesnake under my ass. When I did there was a loud crash and I saw what was left of my bike flying through the intersection.

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Yup, its a weekly contest open to all. Just sign up for the free weekly newsletter by clicking here.

Then email us your 100 word limit fiction to the editor wayfarer@bikernet.com

May 22
Love0

Weekly 100 word Fiction Contest

By General Posts

Yup, its a weekly contest open to all. Just sign up for the free weekly newsletter by clicking here.

Then email us your 100 word limit fiction to the editor wayfarer@bikernet.com

Here is the first one, by Bandit himself!

Title: Choices or The Economy of Life

The phone rang early. “Do you want it or not?” The temperamental voice demanded. It involved the sale of a 1945 Knucklehead, my dream ride.

I rolled over and touched the softest ass on the planet. She woke and twisted into my arms naked and wet. Her sapphire eyes blinked and we kissed. “Where are we going for our honeymoon?”

My phone blinked a text message. “Have you registered for school?” Dad. I rolled over and she climbed on top of me. As she pushed against my chest and stirred, I pondered the bobbed Harley and riding across Mexico.

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