100 Word Cliche Challenge
- Neil
- Mar 7, 2021
- 2 min read
In EXACTLY 100 words, excluding the title, let's see how many cliches you can fit into a short story that still makes sense.
If you want to have a got, you can publish yourself right here into the website by leaving a message on this post (members only) if you're not a member, you can send your cliche challenge to giffordtownsecretary@gmail.com Remember to put a title and say if you want your name or to be anonymous. Go on, you know you want to.
Here's a few from some contributors to get you started.
Telling it like it is.
So, what I want to say to you is this. I’ve thought long and hard and from the bottom of my heart I can say this will hurt me more than it will hurt you but at the end of the day there must be a level playing field. So, the truth is, looking forward we need blue sky thinking to get some light at the end of the tunnel because when all’s said and done, fundamentally we have to get back to basics and frankly, the fact of the matter is we are where we are. Your next question?
Those were the days my friend.
Time flies when you’re having fun. It may be rose tinted spectacles, but it seems like yesterday that I was in the first flush of youth. ‘Make hay while the sun shines’, they said. ‘Sow your wild oats’, they encouraged. 'But if you get a nice young girl into trouble, you should do the decent thing and make an honest woman of her.' That fell on deaf ears and I popped many a cherry without a backward glance. Mark my words though, I’m not one to hide from my responsibilities. A happily married man! Nah! You’ve got to be joking.
Hic!
‘One for the road?’
‘You’ll regret it tomorrow.’
‘Go on, take a drink.’
‘I think you’ve had one too many.’
‘I’m as sober as a judge.’
‘Drunk as a skunk more like.’
‘Look who’s talking.’
‘You’re a pig.’
‘Look who’s talking.’
‘It’ll be the death of you.’
‘One more’ll not do any harm.’
‘You’ve already got one foot in the grave.’
‘Me? I’m as fit as a fiddle.’
‘Just don’t come crying to me then.’
‘Strong as a horse I am.’
‘More like weak as a baby.’
‘Pfft! Always have to have the last word.’
‘May you rest in peace.’
I’ve been bone idle but I just can’t get my head around this.
I’m down in the dumps.
Clean out of trumps
And surely out of aces.
A stitch in time
Didn’t get me the rhyme
To add those airs and graces.
All things considered,
I’m just about jiggered
If I lay my cards on the table.
For here’s the thing
With my arse in a sling
I’m really just not able.
But after all is said and done,
I have to stand by my own gun.
And think I have a subterfuge.
Maybe a carrot maybe a stick
But fit as a fiddle I’ve got the trick
And “Apres moi la deluge”.
Jeff Erton Green
My Struggle
Pull yourself together, it’s not brain surgery. At the end of the day, if it stinks to high
Heaven, it’s not the end of the world. So, once more unto the breach, put your best
foot forward, and remember; if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Lead on
McDuff! Buckle down, and work like a Trojan. Take it one step at a time, eat the
elephant one bite at a time. Run some ideas up the flagpole. So, what if it stinks the
place out? Frankly, m’dear, I don’t give a damn. After all… tomorrow is another day.
Charles Montague
Thanks for the heads up on this one. It’s made me wake up and smell the coffee, so I’ll double down ASAP. You may need to cut me some slack while I get my ducks in a row. Once I’ve got my act together I’ll do a bit of joined up thinking so that we’re singing from the same songsheet. At the end of the day however, my ideas may be past their sell-by date, and I may have to ask you to take a rain check. I’ll give it my best shot.
D Wightman
I have no choice. It's got to be said. We must all bite the bullet and come to grips with the simple truth that it's time to face the music, for the fat lady to sing, to stand up and be counted, to pay the piper, to take the medicine and swallow the pill. At the break of day, we must stand up to be counted, then at the setting of the sun, make one’s bed and lie in it. Finally, when all is said and done, and the shouting is over, we few, we happy few, can rest easy.
Mr R Rambles
From below the work-top
I reached the end of my tether. My heart was in my mouth. I could see light at the end of the tunnel but there was still the final hurdle.
You can’t make omelette without breaking eggs. I had to have a crack. I grasped the nettle, put my best foot forward. It seemed like a mountain to climb but where there’s life there’s hope. Behind every cloud there’s a silver lining so onwards and upwards.
It was like wading through treacle but wild horses wouldn’t stop me…………….
The bubble burst. The steaks were too high!!!! It’s a dog’s life!
Elspeth Smith