July, 2018 Archives

13
Jul

The Golden Thread Part Two

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“What is that? I can’t see. Some sweet jungle flower. Are we getting close?”

“No, it is poetry, a copycat fragrance to lure butterflies. It is carnivorous. Stay back—”

“Those are my words on the vines! God, those electric blue letters! Let’s read—”

“Don’t—”

“Why? ‘Once upon a time I died. I crucified myself on a ladder made from the bones of birds, hollow, not yet cleaned by cannibals or the sun, yet flightworthy by nature.’ I wrote that.”

“The vines will strangle you, make you blind, make you forget why you are here. And then you drop the thread.”

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Empty Mirror Magazine, Little India, Dămfīno, Nowhere Poetry, Rat’s Ass Review, Peacock Journal, A Story in 100 Words, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies, and are forthcoming in MoonPark Review and Almagre. She has completed a full-length poetry manuscript, is writing a novel, and is editor-in-chief of Blue Planet Journal. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University and teaches creative writing at a community college. More at brook-bhagat.com

12
Jul

Conquest Sapiens

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Winter today felt like death. Sor glared at the obvious trail leading to his concealment.

The scentless pale race had carried out a callous pogrom against his kind. He was the last. They’d extracted the cave tribe like so many snails from their shells.

The speed and nature of the slaughter had appalled. Herded into a clear space, Gargar and her people had seemed to shrink, then vanish in light when the captors had waved short sticks in their direction.

Better to die fighting.

Sor tensed. Someone– His crouching body disintegrated.

“The planet’s sterilized,” the marine announced over her com.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

11
Jul

End Of An Era

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I never heard my grandfather say a cross word to my grandmother. They never had an argument. Love and devotion from another era.

She started fading and could not take care of herself; he was there.

She stopped recognizing him; he wouldn’t leave her side.

She needed more care than he could give so she moved into a facility; he moved in to be with her.

She faded from his sight after 63 years and 37 days of wedded bliss. I watched him cry for the first time that day.

I buried my grandfather and grandmother on the same day.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin