August, 2018 Archives



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

State troopers in the backwoods called in the wrong road. At 90 mph, the sign was a blur. So deputies set the spike strip in the wrong place.

As Bob fiddled with the radio, flipping through static and endless commercials, his pickup suddenly went airborne, tumbling through cornstalks.

Officers had Bob handcuffed at gunpoint in seconds. Cuffs cut off his circulation. An hour passed before they learned of the mix-up. Cordiality crept into their tones.

A deputy in shades took Bob aside.

“Look, we’re just out here trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Bob muttered, his temple damp with blood.

From Guest Contributor Joseph S. Pete

Joseph is an award-winning journalist, an Iraq War veteran, an Indiana University graduate, a book reviewer, a photographer, and a frequent guest on Lakeshore Public Radio. His literary or photographic work has appeared in more than 100 journals, including The Evening Theatre, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Chicago Literati, Dogzplot, Proximity Magazine, Stoneboat, The High Window, and the Synesthesia Literary Journal.


Ripen And Split

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

We both said we meant it, your hands in my hair. In the end it didn’t matter, you looked out across the desert like you were already crossing it, a dehydrated camel hell bent on pushing yourself towards purple sunsets no matter how rough or dangerous the terrain. I sat in the barely shade near a towering saguaro and braided spines and blossoms intermittently, blood flowering on the waxy white petals. I watched you go until the heat rising from the sand turned you into a wavy haze. I sighed when both hands dropped the struggle to hold you near.

From Guest Contributor Sarah Reddick

Sarah is a writer, editor, and a writing professor at the University of Missouri-St. Louis. Her work has previously appeared in The Local Voice, The Mid-Rivers Review, and Salt Journal.


The Remains

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Stephanie allowed her eyes to adjust as silhouettes gradually manifested in the murkiness of the cabin. Even this deep, the difference between dim ocean floor and the total blackness within the shipwreck was stark.

After a few minutes, she saw the safe’s boxy outline in one corner. Her fingers delicately worked the dial, hoping corrosion had not ruined the mechanism.

Stephanie spied two spotlights through the empty window. The competition. She worked faster without a torch, one of the reasons her employer always came to her first.

The safe opened. Inside: nothing but remains.

The question: Would her pursuers believe?


The Pit And The Stone

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

A mere glimmer of light reflected off the patches of clammy wall not occupied by greasy lichen and water-laden moss as he hung awkwardly upside-down, blood rushing to his head.

The darkness was dank and oppressive, and he began to wonder exactly what bacteria or even viruses he might pick up fulfilling this bucket list item. Well, he could blame no-one but himself.

He twisted a little and stretched, bracing himself against the other wall, slipping a little on the slimy algae.

A furious voice drifted down from above “If he doesn’t kiss the damn Blarney soon, I’m letting go!”

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


The Consortium

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

After five years on the job, the speculative nature of their work weighed on Debra. Bobby said it was a waste of time to worry over whether any of it mattered, that she just needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Little by little, the evidence would pile up, and they’d uncover the truth. The whole truth.

Debra stared at their conspiracy wall and she could not quell her doubts any longer. The tenuous connections among various suspects required a gargantuan leap of faith.

She thought back to Sunday School. There was a time she’d believed in God too.