Aahhhh, I can’t do it! I did manage to write this within the constraints I imposed, but it ends up too incoherent to be a real story, so I’m sacrificing the basic premise in order to satisfy the extra ones. That’s weak. Ergo this isn’t going in Anacrusis, but I’ll gladly dump it on you here, where apparently I have no standards.
I no longer think it’s possible to write a terzanelle in 101 words that’s still a good story, and I’m positive it can’t be done in meter. I’d love it if you proved me wrong.
There’s little to Terza but her frame.
She rolls. Nine sixes again:
at the Thousand-Year Club they’re all the same.They gambled away bad luck, when
they thought they were wise.
(She rolls nine sixes again.)When age dulled their eyes,
they’d gamble that away as well,
they thought! They were wise.Terza chose to lose Hell
(she’d be different here);
they gambled that away as well.Risk can’t be where fear
is not. Alone she’d be different; here
she’s one more clone.There’s little to Terza, but her frame
is not alone at the Thousand-Year Club:
they’re all the same.