250-Word MicroFiction

One very short story

A few months ago I shared a couple newsletters with stories I wrote for a 100-Word MicroFiction writing competition hosted by NYC Midnight. This time around, I upped the ante and went for the 250-Word MicroFiction. Although there is the potential to win prize money, for me it’s more about the impetus to write, and to write under constraints that are not my own. I also find great inspiration through the community of thousands of other amateur writers, sharpening their skills alongside me.

For this story, I was tasked with writing a ghost story, including the action of patting someone on the head, as well as the word dry. Enjoy!

Steam Rising

Liam set the temperature for 106, the hottest it could go. He preferred a hot tub that singed—something about the threat—and the high only increased his tolerance.

He sat on the edge, water up to his calves, and methodically lit the pre-rolled spliff. The familiar rush filled his head, giving way moments later to the more sustained, expanding euphoria. He eased his body into the cauldron, and as the water stopped rising at his neck, he let out a contented sigh. His eyes closed and the universe opened.

Through the portal of his phone’s tinny speaker, over-played songs of psychedelia gave him company—Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd, Bob Marley. All the while he kept his good hand above the waterline, as to keep his spaceship dry.

A song he couldn’t place shuffled its way into the scene. Soft melodies, rising steam, and the warmth of the water and the weed lulled Liam into a perilous slumber. In that space between waking and dreaming, Liam swore he felt a wisp of long hair brush his face, and a hand softly patting his head.

Liam awoke to the slam of the hot tub lid forcing his mouth below the water. He gasped, and scalding water rushed inward, choking him. As he pushed upward, the lid pushed back with equal force. He was locked inside.

Just as Liam’s roommate walked in the front door, the sound of Liam’s pounding stopped…

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If you agree with me, you’ll find that the story ends a bit abruptly. At 239 words, I even had a little wiggle room left to wrap things up. Did any phrases or ideas come to you while reading, which might, in eleven words or less, more cleanly resolve Liam’s demise? Having read it, I believe this story is now yours just as much as it’s mine; will you help me finish it?

Have a good weekend :)

-Kyle