January, 2017 Archives

31
Jan

Comfortable Ignorance

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Tim read his sister’s winning entry through, comparing it with listed runners-up. He reflected on the superficial ditties with which building society advertisements were enamoured to the point of misidentification as poetry. Perhaps that ill-timed reflection jaded him, for he was not gentle with his critique of Martha’s literary infant.

“’Ill-conceived twaddle’?” She snatched away her manuscript and lunged melodramatically from the chair.

Tim guffawed as the histrionics caused her to jar against the table, but recovered. “Look, you can’t exhale against a corset, whale-bone or otherwise. The rib-cage contracts to exhale, expands to inhale.”

Martha cashed the cheque anyway.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

30
Jan

Play

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Bobby carted the bin out by the hose and sighed.

This would take a while.

He started loading water guns, blasters, soakers, super soakers, water cannons, squirt guns, water pistols, pump-action blasters, pressurized water guns, and dual water blasters. Then he filled water balloons. What good soldier would go into battle without grenades?

He plugged every aperture, dumped his arsenal in the boat, surveyed the other canoes. Bobby hopped in, skimmed his hand across a super soaker. He imagined the jetting stream–-its range, accuracy. He envisioned drenched shirts and squealing.

No one would find this enjoyable, he cackled, no one.

From Guest Contributor Joseph S. Pete

Joseph is an Iraq War veteran, an award-winning journalist, an Indiana University graduate, a book reviewer, and a frequent guest on his local NPR affiliate. He was named the poet laureate of Chicago BaconFest 2016, a feat that Geoffrey Chaucer chump never accomplished. His work has appeared in Chicago Literati, Dogzplot, shufPoetry, The Roaring Muse, Fictitious, The Blue Collar Review, The Five-Two, Lumpen, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Pour Vida, Pulp Modern, Zero Dark Thirty and elsewhere. He once Googled the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. True story, believe it or not.

27
Jan

Dodge

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Combined their ages were 106; they decided to celebrate their birthdays straight after her youngest sister’s wedding in May. They would drive from Boca Grande, Florida all the way to Tampa and hop the first flight to London available. Only a few would be privy to their plan. The mother of the bride and her eldest daughter, whom many despised. They would celebrate the sixties and the end of thirties with the same trials and failures that they marked the twenties, fifties, forties, and tens. The zeros were so distant; neither woman could remember them. “Happy 106, us,” they smirked.

From Guest Contributor E.B. Morrison

26
Jan

Star Wars Fan

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I bought my movie ticket a week ago, to see Rogue One. Now the day of, a heavy rain storm caused flooding and traffic. I had to make it there. I sat in the car stuck behind honking car horns thinking of last year’s Star Wars film and Princess Leia’s recent death. A tragedy. Okay, the traffic started moving. I had fifteen minutes to get there, park, and buy popcorn.

The parking lot was unusually empty. I found a spot close to the theater. After I ran through puddles, the sign on the door read closed due to inclement weather.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

25
Jan

Yellow Rose

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

She stood in the kitchen, surrounded by packed boxes. The yellow rose lay wilting on the coffee table; a reminder of the stunning events of the past several days. In flower parlance, yellow roses ask for forgiveness. She knew her marriage was in trouble when her husband turned up with a sheepish look on his face and a yellow rose in his gloved hand. Now it wilted on the table, a ridiculously anti-romantic symbol of their once healthy and robust relationship. He had moved in with the dog trainer and she was left feeling as faded as the damned flower.

From Guest Contributor JoAnne Dowd

23
Jan

House Of A Hoarder

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The stench of stale tobacco hangs in the air. You treat your house like an air-tight Tupperware; you think your hoarded items could be destroyed by fresh air, so you never let me in. You ignore the smoke that settles on those decaying maps of ancient civilizations.

I walk into this careful messiness. The smoke accumulates on the loose silk threads of my dress. You study my face as if it were one of your maps: tracing the lines of ancient feelings in the wrinkles of my skin. I replace the roughness of your scrutiny by leaving. Can’t hoard me.

From Guest Contributor Suhasini Patni

Suhasini is a second year undergraduate at Ashoka University, in India, studying English literature. She has previously published a book review in The Tishman Review and a micro-fiction piece with A Quiet Courage, and hopes to publish many more. She is new to the publishing world but loves to write.

18
Jan

In Darkness…Light

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I helped move your walker over the curb. You listened as I shared my emotional grief. We became friends.

One day I drove to meet you. Snow fell in sheets. The unknown lurked beneath. I swerved, stopped. Not far, the lake within walking distance.

Cabins sent curls of wood stove smoke into late autumn air. I would see yours with a candle at the window and you behind, waiting for me.

Years passed. With them storms I couldn’t control. Passing of friendships, from start to finish. Even ours. Candles lit. Extinguished.

I read your obituary. Memories touched with an afterglow.

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.

17
Jan

Stupid-Cupid

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It was late evening of my birthday dinner, and we were having a nice time watching our favorite TV show. In between the commercial breaks we had some small discussions. My friend shared a video. She was narrating the story to me and told me that in the story there is a small boy flying in the air with a bow and arrow who makes people fall in love when they get struck by his arrow. Smiling at the innocence, I said, ‘We call it Cupid’ and she replied back with the same innocence, ‘Oh wow, cupid is so stupid.’

From Guest Contributor Preeti Singh

Preeti is a French language interpreter and media professional who is engaged in writing short films and playing characters for tv series. You can get in touch with her at http://languages-consult.com/

16
Jan

New Year’s Eve

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Charlie and Shannon had been expecting a crowd at their house for New Year’s Eve, but ten o’clock approached and still no one showed.

“Charlie, where is everyone? You did put eight o’clock on the invitations, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did.” Charlie went to the counter for a glass of wine, when he noticed something sticking out from under the piles of papers. All the invitations he was supposed to mail two weeks ago, under a stack.

“Shannon, it looks like it’ll be just the two of us at midnight.”

Charlie threw the invitations out and gulped his wine.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

12
Jan

Just A Cigarette

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Sometimes I wish I smoked just to have something else to do. While I watch you paint the bodies of other women with your electrifying and magical fingertips, it feels almost natural to have a cigarette between my fingers. Yet I do not set my lungs on fire. I suspect it has something to do with your disapproval. You say smoking is a sign of suicidal behavior. You will not go out with a mental patient. So I quietly sit and watch as you caress and trace the contours of other women, happy not to be in a coffin instead.

From Guest Contributor Suhasini Patni

Suhasini is a second year undergraduate at Ashoka University, in India, studying English literature. She has previously published a book review in The Tishman Review and a micro-fiction piece with A Quiet Courage, and hopes to publish many more. She is new to the publishing world but loves to write.