13
Oct

Rose Petal

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It took Jim more than a half hour to arrive at his wife Kate’s grave. The flowers he brought were withered from the heat and drops of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

“Hi, Sweetie. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic was unbearable. I brought you your favorite, yellow roses, but they are ruined from the heat. I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get anything right these days.”

Jim placed the roses against the gravestone, knelt, and quietly prayed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

When Jim left, a rose petal dropped to the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

25
Sep

The High Priest’s Attendant

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He was charged with carrying the great scriptures. It was a position that afforded him great respect.

The scriptures were placed into five stacks, each of which was enclosed between two layers of tanned sheepskin. Each stack was then rolled tightly so as to prevent air from reaching inside. The five rolls were stored in an iron chest and covered with cotton and dried cayenne to repel pests.

For many years, he had traveled in the high priest’s retinue, the heavy chest strapped to his back. Yet, not once had he read a single word contained on those sacred pages.

16
Oct

The Search For Meaning

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The purpose of the meeting wasn’t revealed beforehand.

Timothy walked into the boardroom carrying notebook and coffee, ready for anything. He dutifully took notes as the minutes were recited, then listened as each department head read their reports covering the previous 24 hours.

An argument broke out over the order of the reports. The company would not refer to it as an argument, but rather a protocol discussion. The minutes wouldn’t make note of the raised voices on both sides.

Eventually, the meeting broke up. Everyone returned to their cubicles.

Timothy still had no idea why the meeting was convened.

10
Oct

Caught At The Bottom

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

From his vantage point, Josh could see their faces, those who weren’t masked anyway. The zealotry was apparent on both sides.

The blows, unintentional at this point, kept coming. Boots rammed into his hip. Someone stepped on his right hand, the one that had been holding the rainbow sign, and he felt the bones snap. He stopped struggling as everything went numb.

All Josh discerned now were their eyes. He realized they saw nothing outside of their own preconceived notions. They looked at the men and woman across from them with hatred.

And these were the people he agreed with.

9
Oct

Caramel Sauce

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Sweet,” Dad said, licking his lips.

“Different,” Mom added.

We were seated in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner. My
sixteen-year-old brother wanted to showcase the skills he had mastered
in a culinary arts course.

“Wait!” he exclaimed.

The rest of us watched him taste the meal before him. An expression of
bewilderment spread across his face. He ran back to the kitchen and
returned.

“I emptied out the wrong pot,” he conceded. ‘The caramel sauce was
meant for apple cake.”

“So what is left for the cake now?” Dad asked while Mom and I
refrained from laughing.

“Turkey gravy.”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

6
Oct

Soldiers Of Fortune

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Who’s to say if any of this really matters?”

George smacked Thomas across the face as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Thomas whined.

“Because if we give up hope, we die.”

Thomas pointed towards the enemy lines. “If we die, it’s because of them.”

“And if we give up the fight, then we lose not only our own freedom, but the freedom of an entire nation.”

“And my question to you is, what difference does it make?”

George lowered his hand. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Together, George and Tom fled the battlefield.

4
Oct

It’s Not What It Seems

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Mike, feverish, tossed in bed. Head aching and muscles tense, he dreamed of the beach, the hot sun beating on his face, when a voice awakened him.

“Babe, how are you feeling,” asked his wife Liz.

“My body feels like a truck hit it.”

“You heard what the doctor said. You have the flu. Rest, Tylenol and fluids is what he prescribed.”

“Yeah, well, the flu stinks and I feel like it’s more than the flu.”

“Stop being so dramatic. I’ll make you some homemade chicken soup. That should help.”

Mike laid back, closed his eyes, and never dreamed again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

2
Oct

A Survivor’s Calling

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Mouth agape, eyes widened with fear, I looked on to what my world had been. Everything I lived for was swept up in a distant array of mud, debris and…corpses. Even through my grief, I knew the landslide had chosen me, to avenge everyone’s lives that came to an end in this short, devastating moment. This was my calling, which I would live through for the rest of my life, bearing their dreams.

Standing strong, even until this day, I recall this distant memory. With tears beginning to well in my eyes I see hope glimmering from the future.

From Guest Contributor Danielle Simpfendorfer

28
Sep

The Mouse

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Robert and Rebecca arrived home to find a dead mouse on their kitchen floor.

It was an old building, so Rebecca was not surprised there would be rodents. Rather than being grossed out, she began reflecting on her own mortality, wondering if she were better or worse off than the mouse for having knowledge of her impending oblivion. It was a thought that often kept her up late into the night, as she listened to Robert’s light snoring and choked back tears.

Robert could only think about the mess that must have attracted the mouse, and began a thorough cleaning.

27
Sep

Natural Beauty

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Todd places a bouquet of red roses on his wife’s grave. The rain pelts down and the flowers wither. He sighs and kneels on the muddy ground, tears filling his eyes. Drenched from head to toe, he doesn’t care. It’s been two months since Maria died from cancer and his chest aches. He has no family, only his job to keep him company.

“I miss you, Maria. I wish it had been me instead.”

Weeping, Todd somberly rises to his feet and walks to his car.

After several minutes, the rain stops and the roses return to their natural beauty.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher