August, 2017 Archives



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He had been marked as a criminal as a young boy. The branding itself was not especially painful, not physically at least. The stigma that he now bears has, however, made life nearly unbearable these past 20 years.

There is a relativity that applies to all things in all times. A crime, for example, may in fact be a heroic act under the right circumstances and in the right culture. To ignore the possibility of nuance means that everything becomes black and white in a world full of color.

Yet there is nothing relative about the brand on his face.


Better Off

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words





Nicole wakes up in what feels like a cocoon. Everything is soft, including her focus.

A familiar voice cascades in. Nicole turns. A stranger is smiling at her. She recognizes nothing about him but the voice coming from his mouth.

“The doctors say you’ll be okay. You just need rest.”

Nicole tries moving, but no response. She fears paralysis, until she notices the restraints. She looks back at the stranger.

“You really gave us a fright.”

She remembers. Not everything, not who this person is or the accident, but she remembers enough.

Better she were dead.


Duty And Thoughts Of Alisen

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

A sweep of peach graced the western sky…maybe. Sleep deprived, he couldn’t really be sure. Vision might be compromised, eyes too bloodshot to discern the ambiguous purity of grey dragging the downpour along the horizon.

And the windows were filthy.

Sunday eyed him from the corner, placid gaze sharpening as her head rose from his Nike, quasi-spaghetti dangling from open maw.

He identified with the drool-laden laces.

“Curious passion,” he said, observing the dog…but thinking of Alisen.

Sunday growled, mouthing the trainer, front paws tensed and backside hoisted by her wagging tail. Play and a walk.

Duty called.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


The House On The Hill

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

As the floodwaters receded, Thompson entered what used to be his home. The structure had once stood proud at the top of the hill. Now it was in shambles, the storm having carried it off its foundations and depositing it several hundred yards away.

With stooped shoulders, Thompson shifted through the remains. His friends would say he should count himself lucky that anything survived at all. At least he was alive. But it was hard to think that way with Jessie’s waterlogged doll in his hands. He was not one of those parents who looked at their children as disposable.


The Eclipse

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

John stared down at the multitudes surrounding him. From his spot at the top of the hill, he could see in all directions. Thousands of people stared up. All here to see him.

As the darkness gradually deepened, the excitement of the crowd grew. Strange glasses were raised to faces. Perhaps they hoped to look more closely at John, in all his glory. But if the sunlight continued to disappear, no one would see anything.

John did not like their attention to be diverted away from him. He deserved the acclaim. Much more so than some trivial act of nature.


In A Momentary Trance

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Her gentle swaying at the intersection made him stop abruptly on the sidewalk. She wore large headphones that were cocked forward on her head. Her eyes were closed and her head moved from side to side as if caught in an otherworldly trance. Her hands tapped out a sporadic beat against her sides.

Her lips began to move slowly at first then increased in speed. He watched her with a growing anticipation that left him glued in place. Suddenly, her mouth opened wide and she vehemently sang out lyrics to a song he never heard before, but wished he had.

From Guest Contributor Zane Castillo



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Matthew has a friend who works at NASA. His friend Kent is on the team that is launching a manned mission to Mars next week.

On the day of the launch with the help of Kent he is able to sneak his girlfriend Kim aboard the ship.

A few hours after the launch, Kim wakes up. She is wearing a spacesuit with a note posted on her chest.

She reads the note. “I know you really want to go to Mars. Love, Matthew.”

Kim screams, “You idiot, I said I want to go to the bars, get your hearing checked!”

From Guest Contributor Denny E. Marshall



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Something landed in our yard,” I announced.

Harold unlocked the backdoor, glanced around.

“Softball,” he hollered. “Next door thugs peering over our fence.
Undies on their clothesline again.”

“I’m cooking. How about returning the ball?”

“Nope. They know where it is,” Harold grumbled holding a newspaper.

When the doorbell rang, he answered. Two boys asked permission to
retrieve their ball.

“Nice kids. Better than the previous neighbors. Remember, they hung
sheets on that silly clothesline to avoid talking with us.”

I looked out the kitchen window.

Our neighbor had taken down the underwear. Sheets strung the length of
the clothesline.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.


Future Perfect

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It had taken some time to bring the fixer-upper to a standard he could happily call home.

He was in the company of all who cursed the pope amid the loyalist festivities.

He dusted and buffed his bowler unto that classy matt gleam. His sash shone with the pride of centuries.

“Why not be ‘triumphalist’?”

There was no response. None needed.

He wore long johns and fleece under the treasured regalia.

“A dry day,” he affirmed.

He practiced a few tunes on his fife and strode purposefully from his front door.

Alone he trod the permafrost-patterned ground of Devon Island.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


He Will Think I Don’t Love Him Anymore

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Seven-year-old Ava Mendez fidgets with Mimi’s cellphone in her lap.

Abruptly it rings. She smacks the green button. A recording informs her it’s a free call from her daddy, being recorded.

Press one to accept. Hastily she slams her little finger onto the keypad.

Horror grips her sullen face as tears flow uncontrollably, realizing she pressed the number two in haste.

Nothing but dial tone. She wails for her Mimi. “I have to talk to my daddy,” she cries.

Daddy, in a holding cell waiting for deportation, has not forgotten nor heard her angelic voice in three days and nights.

From Guest Contributor Yknow