100 word stories. Post all you like, maybe we'll dip in and use yours?
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Curious how the hands never forgot the heft of the tools or the bucking of the chisel across the face of the stone. An unlabeled inhaler on the table jumped with every mallet strike. He frowned at the granite slab and considered. Kasper; next time he would be called Kasper. After graving the year onto this, his latest tombstone he would drag on the inhaler’s cocktail of amnesiacs and wipe-away another identity and another century’s living from his conscious mind. The extropian optimism of his youth was more than a millennium ago and living forever was a young man’s game.