January, 2015 Archives


Cat Number Four

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Shelly sighed as she looked at the stray. Something in her mind shouted “Run away,” but it was too late. The kitten would be coming with her.

On the cab ride home, as she stroked the plush fur, Shelly recalled the dreams she had as a child. A successful career in business. A handsome husband. Two obedient children. Those dreams were now gone, replaced by this adorable fur ball in her lap.

She entered her home and set the kitten on the floor. There was no turning back. This was cat number four. Shelly was officially a crazy cat lady.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I wasn’t the only one at the metro station the evening one of the trains blew up. But I was among those who stood the farthest from the flaming train. I was among the lucky few who escaped unhurt. I was among those who smelt the burning flesh first. I was among those who saw the first streams of blood escaping the bombed coach. I was also among those who ran towards the exit as soon as the shock wore off.

And now I am among those who are haunted by the images of the passengers we could have saved.

From Guest Contributor Namitha Varma

Namitha Varma is based in Mangaluru, India. Her works have appeared in Sahitya Akademi’s journal Indian Literature, eFiction India, Hackwriters, MadSwirl, and Every Writer’s Resource, among others. She can be reached on twitter via @namithavr.


The Exporter’s Lament

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

In Export there is something heroic about earning foreign currency for my country. It makes up for jet lag, family absences, and living out of a suitcase.

Disembarking the flight home, I am thinking of freshly made meals and welcome home sex, not necessarily in that order.

I open the front door to enter a silent, empty house; furniture, fixtures and fittings gone.

On the kitchen bench the business card of a lawyer, specializing in Family Law.

My mind floods with stories told by fellow exporters, their helpless acute vulnerability, when their wives ran off with another man or woman.

From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell

Barry O’Farrell is an actor in Brisbane Australia, who worked in Export many years ago.

Other stories by Barry can be found at Cyclamens and Swords, 50 Word Stories and here at A Story In 100 Words.


The Final Conversation

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

They walked the long way to her house, so they had extra time before they reached her porch. She had a previous engagement and he wasn’t invited inside.

The conversation had been lovely. They’d shared their most embarrassing moments. They made each other laugh. They held hands. They kissed around the corner, and didn’t care who might see them. He would remember it fondly forever.

It was their final conversation. He stopped returning her phone calls or answering her letters. He feared things ending on a bad note, so he had waited for the perfect moment to break things off.


The Ironies Of Doing Drugs

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I’d never smoked marijuana before and I never imagined it would be so difficult.

First everyone kept telling me how dangerous it was. It would sap all my will power. I’d become a stoner.

Then, there was no place for me to buy any. It was legal in some states but in Philadelphia, no one knew where I could score some.

Finally, I found a dealer, but he wouldn’t sell any to me. “You look like a good kid. Why don’t you go home?”

I’ve done heroin plenty of times and this guy won’t sell me a bag of weed!



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He always smiled when she appeared. Today, he also winked.

No one else gave her a second look. At school, girls called her names. Boys threw stones.

She placed a chocolate bar on the belt. He rang in the price. She paid.

“Not getting your favourite?” he asked.

“You’re out,” she answered.

“It won’t happen again.”

She tore the wrapper off exiting the store. Took a mouthful. As she started walking home, a car pulled up behind her. The driver’s window opened.

“Found these in the back of the store,” he said handing her a caramel chocolate bar.

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

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



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“The grandkids gave me a beautifully wrapped Christmas present. When I opened it, the box said apple. I thought it meant dried fruit. Turned out to be one of them takeaway telephones young people like.

“I’ve never tried a takeaway telephone. Grandkids showed me how to use it with finger sliding, pointing, tapping.

“They showed me all sorts of things inside it which were very surprising.

“Now I have lost it. Must have put it down somewhere, forgot it and walked off. If you happen to find it, my telephone has a white body and the front is black glass.”

From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell

Barry has written other stories which appear on Cyclamens and Swords, 50 Word Stories and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.


The Only Casanova in This Dead Country

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“She was so hot,” Sam says. “It was like she was blasting out chunks of magma. When we finished, the whole apartment looked like Pompeii. Anyway – how’d you do with your lucky lady?”

I light up a cigarette and think for a moment.

“I was depressed the next day. Does that answer your question?”

“You tellin’ me you didn’t make a formaldehyde fetus?”

“Oh we had unprotected sex. I don’t know. Something doesn’t sit well inside.”

Sam puts his hand on my chest.

“There’s nothing comfortable inside that heart of yours,” he says. “It’s an abandoned archaeological site. Like America.”

From Guest Contributor Justin Karcher

Justin lives in Buffalo, NY. Recent works have appeared in Crab Fat Literary Magazine, Mixtape Methodology, and Maudlin House. You can find him on Twitter.


Mortal Sin

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Shawn ran from the confessional like the Devil might grab him by the collar and drag him back down to Hell.

“What’d you get?” I whispered.

“Nothing. He said it was just a minor sin.” I smiled. If stealing money from the donation box was considered minor, I was scot-free.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I left a mess in the rectory.”

I didn’t know what excommunicated meant but I felt I’d been unjustly served until my Pop said that Father Flannery obeyed only one dictate: cleanliness was next to Godliness. Violations were treated as a mortal sin.


Callous Humans

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

An aged tiger was on the prowl. One night it caught a sheep. As it could not carry its prey, it tried to eat it there. The cows in the shed raised an alarm. The villagers gathered, pelting stones. The tiger ran away.

The villagers staged a protest, wanting the government to exterminate it. Experts were called in. The next day they shot the tiger. How callous are humans, I thought.

A tiger took a sheep, a sheep that was to be slaughtered the next day!

If animals could strike back for their rights, we all would be behind bars!

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.