Quite a while back I heard about a flash fic contest. I don't remember the specifics. Something about the end of the world. The title could be as long as you please, but the story itself had to be exactly 100 words.
Unfortunately, I goofed on the submission. My piece was never seen by the editor.
The piece is so custom, there is no where else I can ever send it in for submission.
So without further ado,
On this night, we choose comfort.
The child's mattress is on the floor of the living room, surrounded by all the dog beds. Every spare pillow, every blanket, and every stuffed animal lay around her.
She's old enough, and we've told her about what's happening.
Just not that it's tonight. We didn't want that hanging over her head.
"I don't understand why we're doing this?"
"From now on," her father says, "we're going to enjoy everything we can, as much as we can."
Pillow fights lead to sleepiness.
I hold my child against my chest, and grip my lover's hand.