Here’s a 100 word story which I decided had to include the first 3 words that came up on https://randomwordgenerator.com/ – the words were bet, deputy and lose.
We creep in fear and single-file through thick jungle with no choice but trust our navigation to chosen leaders. Night falls and the rearmost urge us onward; we barely notice it’s boggier underfoot. Those furthest forward slow fastest and soon we’re a milling mob.
Uphill, tangled undergrowth; downhill, sunlight through trees. Lead us, we cry, trampling over abandoned machetes.
Each of us, whether demoted or promoted deputy, shares this democracy of incompetence – a bet on survival, ours to lose.
Nightbirds shriek and we stampede towards retreating day. Suddenly chest-deep in quicksand, we hear the crack of metal on wood.
Image: Discover Magazine Blogs