I killed some guy today

"I killed some guy today. I was driving home from work and he was on a bicycle up ahead. Sure, I saw him but I'm not gonna change speed or move over for some jerk on a bike. I laid on the horn to scare that asshole but I got a little too close and hit his arm with my mirror. He went flying ass over tin cups! Then his head hit the curb. I pulled over, but it was too late. His neck was broken. It wasn't funny anymore. I killed some guy today.

...

"My dad killed somebody on the road yesterday. He hit a guy on a bike and the guy died! Dad always bitches about bicyclists, slow drivers, and those fuckin' Amish buggies. They don't belong on the road, he says. But he killed some guy! Dude! He's a bad ass! Hey, Marsha, what's wrong? Dude, she just got up and ran out of class all cryin' and stuff."

...

"A boy in my trig class started talking about how his dad killed a bicyclist yesterday. He was my best friend's father! I was so shocked I ran across the hall to the girls restroom and threw up. I'll be okay in a minute. What am I gonna tell Andrea?"

...

"My friend Marsha called last night. She's in a class with the boy whose father killed Daddy. I don't know how to process that right now. I'm numb. Mom and I take turns breaking down and crying. We try to comfort each other. We try to be strong for each other, but the tears just well up in us. My heart truly aches. I always thought that was just an expression, but it's true. It aches. What are we gonna do? My Daddy died."

Teenage angst (OT)

This is a flash fiction piece I sent to a website. They turned it down and I'm OK with that. But I can't resist sharing it.

She was lonely. Mom and Dad kept her locked in the house. No friends. No distractions. Nothing to read except for those dusty scrolls about gods and goddesses. It was boring.

Sure, they got to go out whenever they wanted, but they'd put a spell or something on the house and she couldn't leave. It was maddening!

Even worse, she had no music, not even servants to boss around. They were gone and now Mom and Dad expected her to do the housework!

Mom said that dinner was ready. Medusa walked to the table, her snakes writhing. Someone would pay.

These are supposed to be 100 words precisely. It's fun to toy with such a truncated story. I'll probably have more.