One Hundred-Word Wonders is a writing prompt that celebrates the marvel of storytelling in a concise form. Within the realm of micro-fiction, writers have mastered the art of crafting complete narratives in just a few sentences.
These bite-sized pieces should showcase the power of brevity, leaving readers in awe of the vast landscapes painted within a mere hundred words. So, how can a story be effectively told in such a limited space? Let's explore the possibilities together.
Today’s prompt is:
BUT WHAT DO I KNOW?
Write in exactly 100 words, a story, poem, or creative non-fiction in any genre, based on the prompt. The 100-word count does not include the title. Please use WordCounter or your writing software to ensure your piece is exactly 100 words.
Place (copy and paste) your 100-word response to the prompt with its title in a comment below. If you’d like, publish on your own Substack site or Substack Notes with a link back to this page.
Tap those little hearts on responses in the comment section, if you are moved to do so.
These prompts don’t have a deadline.
My response is included below.
Resolve
I sharpen a blade in the dim light of the kitchen, the edge glinting like my thoughts.
He thinks I don’t see the way he smiles at his phone, the way his fingers caress, linger over the keypad.
Every night stretches into hours, my heart heavy with betrayal. Each tick of the clock a reminder of the life we built, now cracked and crumbling.
But what do I know? It might just be an innocent flirtation.
Yet, every slice of the knife through the mini cucumbers convinces me otherwise; I've seen evidence.
The verdict is in and a dangerous resolve takes root.
Author's Note
Look for a new One Hundred-Word Wonders prompt every third Wednesday of the month except for next month, October 2025.
Thanks very much for reading, subscribing, and sharing the stories, poetry, and essays in this space. If you like a story, poem, or essay please click on the heart. Also if you are so moved, please leave a comment.
Ted and Rico don’t talk anymore. Time was, they were inseparable. Faculty lounge. Old movies. Until they weren’t. Ted thought he knew everything. Which was annoying enough. But he compounded the sin by always adding, insincerely, as a coda to any of his numerous pronouncements, “but what do I know?”, implying some doubt or uncertainty or lack of expertise where none was intended or ever would be acknowledged. The disingenuous qualifier was punctuated as an interrogative but certainly did not invite or welcome any reply.
How did the relationship end, you might ask. Simple. One time Rico answered the question.
Don’t Ask
Ted and Rico don’t talk anymore. Time was, they were inseparable. Faculty lounge. Old movies. Until they weren’t. Ted thought he knew everything. Which was annoying enough. But he compounded the sin by always adding, insincerely, as a coda to any of his numerous pronouncements, “but what do I know?”, implying some doubt or uncertainty or lack of expertise where none was intended or ever would be acknowledged. The disingenuous qualifier was punctuated as an interrogative but certainly did not invite or welcome any reply.
How did the relationship end, you might ask. Simple. One time Rico answered the question.
Excellent. When you know you know.