Microdosing Fiction - 100mg of a Pandora
Write 100 words based on the words: Pandora
Our prompt for today is PANDORA
Write a story in 100 words!
To join in on the challenge, leave a comment or restack the story with your own!
Monday morning. I sit down in the office, with the ocean’s breeze lingering in my lungs. Colleagues come and go, asking, ‘How was your vacation?’ Eager to tell them all about it, I push everything for later. It’s the first day back, work can wait.
After lunch, my smile fades. Mr. Prick is on the phone again, the budgeting can’t wait anymore, and worst of all, Pandora’s inbox.
I click the letter icon, no taking it back.
Take a look…
URGENT!
ASAP!
Now!
Due yesterday!
URGENT!
It crashes over me like a wave.
As I leave the office the taste of freedom is long gone. Damn I could use a vacation…
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He pushed and pushed. They all did. Always the fixation with her name. “What’s your real name?” they’d ask. Again, and again. And with her stage name came the inevitable tired, box puns. She’d heard them all before. Finally, back in the Champagne Room the pushing became literal. She opened her purse and flashed the ID he’d been begging to see. “See, like I told you, some of us use our real names,” said Pandora, showing the proof. But the purse also held a Derringer, which also flashed, and went bang, and his curiosity and lap dance both ended early.
Wonderful Prompt, Miguel, Thanks. I have found another Monty Story for 100mg of Pandora
Monty adored boxes. Pandora adored Monty. So when a mysterious parcel arrived—no sender, no label, just vibes—they leapt on it with synchronized grace.
Monty pounced. Pandora perched.
The flap popped open.
Out whooshed: a thousand unread notifications, job applications screaming “culture fit!”, oceans rising in spreadsheets, a ring light flickering existential dread, and three influencers sobbing into the void.
Also, twelve targeted ads for organic anxiety.
Monty blinked once. Pandora yawned. Then, from deep inside, something warm fluttered out—a purring, unbranded, unmonetized breath of Hope.
They sat on it immediately. Obviously.
Because boxes? Still sacred. Even now.