Write two very short stories about yourself. The word count for each story needs to be exactly 100 words. One of the stories will be true, something that really happened to you, and the other will be a lie. Don't tell which is which.
I think I'll call my two stories, What'cha gonna do when they come for you?.
Three squad cars were in the circular driveway of my apartment last night, and my stomach performed a perfect triple axel. I peered in the large glass doors before swiping my security key. No police were in sight, just the concierge, Jasmine, and a thin man in his forties waiting for a package.
I passed by Jasmine, commenting, “This is quite an exciting building. What’s going on?”
“Domestic violence call. Apartment 1205.”
“I feel like I’m back home in Venice,” I said, and the elevator door opened. Riding up to my apartment, I clenched when I passed the number 12.
He said he was a cop, but the only thing I could really determine was that he had a few extra pounds around his middle and a regulation mustache. I knew he wanted more, forcing his mouth further down toward my balls. I squeezed the base of my dick, its veins a purple road map, and he moaned, his right arm moving to his own rhythm.
A car passed by, its headlights letting me see for a split second that a dark raised scar ran the length of his neck. I reached down to touch it, but he stopped me.