24
Jun

Old Flame At A Party

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Long time no see,” she says tipsily, introducing me to a ‘Rick.’ There’s tension between them, something’s not quite right.

Though remaining a looker, she doesn’t turn heads anymore.

I was too dull for her then, with my monogamy, my love of poetry. Chatting, I mention I still like T.S. Eliot, and have a family.

“Oh, settled down, have we?” she says, her tongue as sharp as ever, yet I sense an envy beneath the sarcasm.

“Well, I’m not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be,” I quote, a certain satisfaction in my self-deprecation, when bidding these lost souls goodnight.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Ian studied English Literature at Oxford University many years ago. He has had short stories published in various genres in Schlock! Webzine, Schlock! Bi-Monthly, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, and in anthologies by Horrified Press and Rogue Planet Press. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.

21
Jun

Reader’s Choice

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“What is essential in war is victory, not prolonged operations. Sun Tzu.”

“Eh?” Brett peered over the safety cage of the Ferris wheel, checking for progress.

Toni made to repeat herself. “What is–”

“I heard you. What the hell are you blabbering about?”

“Well, Sun Tzu was a philosopher–“

“Psychopath who fancied himself as a guru. Sure you want to be quoting him in our predicament? Not sure He’s a fan.” Brett pointed skyward.

“Tut, they’ll fix it. I’m just commenting on their taking their sweet time.”

There was a deafening grinding of metal.

There were screams from below.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

20
Jun

TKO

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

In a year in which everything was falling apart, both personally and globally, Joe wasn’t prepared for the news of Scott’s death. The impact was more devastating than any of the hundreds of punches he’d absorbed during their fight trilogy.

“How?”

“Heart attack.”

Joe looked at the photos and trophies on the bookshelf across the room, mementos from the recent past, a time when he and Scott, though rivals, had been on top of the world.

Now Scott was dead, too young and too soon, reminding Joe of the one fight he, like everyone else, had no chance of winning.

From Guest Contributor Dan Slaten

18
Jun

The Enigmatic Dot

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Inquisitively, her eyes narrowed as she attempted to see it.

“I don’t get it!” she said. “It’s just a blank sheet of paper with a small black dot on it.”

Carl showed it to others. Mike held it up against the light. Tom ran his fingers over it. His teacher unequivocally dismissed it as balderdash and several online friends expressed how deeply offended they had all been by its very concept.

The fact that no-one else could see it seemed strange to Carl.

To him, it was simply a small black dot with a blank sheet of paper on it.

From Guest Contributor JR Hampton

15
Jun

Unfortunately

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The nausea didn’t truly begin until about 20 minutes after. I sat there in the bathroom staring at a singular particle of black mold on the hinge that connects the seat to the toilet, editing my breathing so I could overhear the conversation they were having on the porch. I loved listening to their voices— hearing other people living. It was unusually bright in that bathroom. “Am I the only one who’s seen this mold?” I thought to myself. I got up and walked over towards the frosted glass window to close it, hearing the voices pause shortly after. Unfortunately.

From Guest Contributor Michael T. Schulte

15
Jun

Her Nebulae

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Space lover, every other morning she flips through iridescent images of interstellar clouds. Those nebulae are hers. She has collected many – Crabs and Orions, even Eagle’s pillars.

Today the Eye of Helix is just coming out on her thigh – fine web of filaments, embedded in a red and slate-blue oval. An older mark on upper arm begins transitioning from purple to the shades of yellow and green. She promises herself to find its alien soulmate tomorrow. Now she must go, and she packs her school bag void with hope. The regions of bright nebulosity are safely hidden under shapeless uniform.

From Guest Contributor Natalia Kay

14
Jun

In the Paris Catacombs

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

My tour is just two thousand meters of the hundred kilometer labyrinth that forms this subterranean ossuary.

The tunnel walls are stacks of femurs, tibias, scapulas, et alia, interspersed with grinning skulls.

Six million dead unceremoniously disinterred, generation upon generation, from centuries ago.

Good, evil, male, female, beautiful, ugly, aristocrat, artisan, everyone has attained an undignified égalité here.

I could laugh myself to scorn at this macabre absurdity. Not a ghost in sight, merely piles of bones!

Back in the land of the living, I emerge into the rush hour: busy throngs of stick people, all sharing the same destination.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Ian studied English Literature at Oxford University many years ago. He has had short stories published in various genres in Schlock! Webzine, Schlock! Bi-Monthly, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, and in anthologies by Horrified Press and Rogue Planet Press. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.

13
Jun

Neglect

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Lichen and moss had made their home on the intricately carved headstone while a ravenous community of ivy sought to embrace it.

The man wondered who Charlotte was. All the superficial dedications were there, though the surname was hidden. Who had she been? Was there no family to visit and maintain the plot…or did they believe in allowing it to age as naturally as their progenitor?

He crouched and pulled back some of the thicker growth from the bottom.

“…leaving behind…”

He read the names. One was unusual, like Gran’s.

He brushed ivy aside.

The surname was his own.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

10
Jun

That Holiday We All Supposedly Love

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I push in my code: 437. The sound mocking me as I snatch the clipboard off of its peg—the check list of the unforgiving. My job today: revision in the main isle. I garb my lime-green box-cutter. Time to unpack the new merchandise. I fill the cart with cardboard boxes and scoot to the holiday shelves. I slit open the tape and a waft of rich-bitterness hits my nose. I pull out the advertisement holder that holds crimson candy boxes with cartoon dogs saying, “I ruff you! Give me a kiss!” Lurking within, little cones of so called yummy.

From Guest Contributor McKenzie A. Frey

8
Jun

Caught In The Fury

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

One came at him from behind, another from the side. The assault started only minutes ago yet to him it felt longer.

He recalled his father’s war experiences. How as a mere twenty-year-old he was expected to carry out his country’s mission. The horror of losing many close friends while he was able to return home haunted him to the end of his life.

The present situation was nowhere as difficult as his father’s. The opponent stalled, giving him the chance to counterattack.

He leaped into a pile of paper, shaped sheets into airplanes. Aimed at his son.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.