January, 2021 Archives
Jan
Music Lesson
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I can’t say for certain which music I’m enjoying more – Susumu Yokota’s Asian ambience on the laptop or the garden’s new water fountain concert.
Mr. Chipmunk, the gaudy flutterby, and the fledgling redwings all clearly prefer the fountain. And why wouldn’t they? What do they know about synthesizers, electronic percussion, or the meditative properties of fluid melody transformation? For them, the fountain’s water, singing its spontaneous aria, is life itself; is the music without which their lives—all lives—would cease to exist.
I reach out and tap the laptop’s mute.
Some creatures—most creatures—know far more than I.
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Ron’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.
Jan
Token Of Christmas Cheer
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A man shuffled down a city block, ringing doorbells. His spirit motivated by optimism.
With mounting rejections, hopelessness soon took over. He had an inkling of what they were thinking: another solicitor, begging on behalf of a charity. He would prove otherwise if given a chance.
Last house. He paused. Should he ring? A smiling child waved through the picture window. The front door opened. A woman appeared.
“Sorry, I have little cash,” she said, noting his disheveled appearance.
He left with a bag of festive cookies gifted by her; a token of appreciation for his shoveling of her walkways.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She is based in Edmonton, Canada.
Jan
Suffrage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I clear the breakfast plates as a dutiful wife, while my husband, Robert, legs crossed, newspaper in hand, clears his throat and faces me.
“Are you seriously considering going to the parade, Grace?”
“Not considering, I’m going,” I say and slam the cabinet door, dishes rattling.
“There’s no reasoning with you,” he says and leaves the room.
I want more than keeping a home and obeying Robert’s commands. I want the freedom to choose.
I hold my head high, grab my “Women have the Right to Vote banner,” and walk out the door to Fifth Avenue to make a difference.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Disruptions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
People, she thought, were like gadgets. They could be tucked away neatly into white boxes, each waiting to fulfill their role. Friends, family, coworkers—they each had their own purpose in her life, and she never let them stray. Few coworkers ever became friends, and even fewer friends became family. Nobody crossed the inner circles of her life without her permission. And then, there was him. The glitter explosion that disrupted her perfect life, bringing just a little mess with him, wherever he went. She now carried that intoxicating aura as it radiated from her chest in amber waves: Bull’s-eye.
From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott
Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her masters degree in English as well. Her work has been published in Entropy Squared, The Dribble Drabble Review’s Spring 2021 issue, and Otoliths in February 2021.
Jan
Another Word For Dystopia
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
They kicked in the door. Your wife screamed. A few of them were wearing white lab coats as if they were doctors. The world was behaving in ways you wouldn’t have believed possible a short while ago. With a “doctor” on each side, and people in neighboring apartments covertly watching, you were hustled down the stairs and across the street and into an ambulance. To this day, no one will talk about what might have become of you. Everything is either too hot or too cold; nothing is soft. Prepubescent girls have dreams eight feet high and made of steel.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s latest full-length poetry collection, Gun Metal Sky, is due in early 2021 from Thirty West
Jan
Stakeout
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The house whose elderly owner didn’t believe in staging finally sold, for way below market value. The old man called Jane twice to back out, overcome by nostalgia. When it sold he moved in with his daughter. She lived nearby.
The excited buyers said it was perfect. A week after move-in they found him seated in a lawn chair, under the oak tree, sipping coffee.
The third time it happened the couple enlisted Jane. She talked him out of serial trespassing. The guy was ninety, a widower.
The buyers threatened to call the police if there was a fourth time.
From Guest Contributor Todd Mercer
Todd writes Fiction and Poetry in Grand Rapids, Michigan. His collection Ingenue was published in 2020 by Celery City Press. Recent work appears in Praxis, The Lake, Literary Yard, and Star 82 Review.
Jan
Rejuvenation Maestro
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He’d become accustomed to his trifocals and dentures; took his half-dozen morning pills religiously; prayed for just one more upright day, another day to deal with his rapidly advancing age.
Even though he still had his youthful smile and the remnants of his ponytail, most of his hair had gone and what little remained had long since thinned and greyed, then whitened. He usually shunned the morning mirror.
His grandson’s youngest daughter (almost half-way through her troubled, rebellious teens) said, “Don’t worry, Pop-Pop; I can fix you up real good,” and before he knew it they had matching blue hair.
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Ron’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.