October, 2021 Archives
Oct
Contest Submissions Are Closed
by thegooddoctor in News
Hey everyone!
We’ve reached the end of the submission period for the latest contest. I’ll start posting the stories tomorrow, saving the winner for last, as always. A lot of good stories once again, and I’m excited to share them with you all.
We’re still accepting normal story submissions, so please continue sharing your 100-word gems. And if any contest submissions come in now that the deadline is closed, I’ll post them with the other submissions, but they won’t be eligible for sweet, sweet victory.
Thanks for all your contributions!
That is all.
Oct
Document
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rain pelts my face, the umbrella useless. I walk quickly, but not enough to draw attention. I must get to my destination and back before curfew.
The document I carry may save countless lives. If the Nazis stop me for a search, they’ll never find it.
“Do you have it?”
I place the umbrella down, dripping, release my shoe and pull the document from my heel, handing it to the contact.
“Good work,” he says and hands me a paper that I neatly place into the heel of my shoe.
I leave and make my way home before curfew.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
To Not Be Alone
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
To not be alone is to be in a constant state of questioning. You question who you are. You question who they are. You question why you are with them. They question why they are with you. You question how to be with them, as they question how to be with you. But we all know that it isn’t just you and them. There are things that haunt you. There are things that haunt them. So is it now that you are not alone, or were you always questioning? Were they always questioning? Truth is, now you are questioning together.
From Guest Contributor Ina Rose
Ina is a student with a passion for writing.
Oct
Rain
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Music is flowing around me, thought a little flower bud as it shyly opened its dewy new petals. A quiet, peaceful melody of streams of gray pouring from a cloudy sky, framed by cooling rhythm of beads of water hitting cement nearby, thrumming on rooftops of homes around its garden, drumming against wooden walls, staccato taps on glass panes. Wavering patterns of drizzle and downpour, whispers of gentle wind through branches of trees, and drips from pools of water on lush green leaves, add a dulcet cadence, forming a tender harmony to welcome this year’s refreshing renewal of mother nature.
From Guest Contributor Sara Light
Sara lives in Chicago and writes poetry, fiction, and children’s stories. In her spare time, she likes to paint and read. Find her on twitter @SaraLight19, and on her website, saralight.blog.
Oct
Rolled And Stoned
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He: I know I’m a Midnight Rambler, but I can come to your Emotional Rescue. Won’t you Tell Me you want to Live With Me? I am through with Honky Tonk women.
She: This could be the Last Time I tell you – Jumpin’ Jack Flash is my boyfriend. You Can’t Always Get What You Want, you just want to tell people I am Under Your Thumb.
He: I can’t get no Satisfaction. I thought that we could have a rosy future, but now I will just Paint It Black. Won’t anyone Gimme Shelter? I don’t have a Heart Of Stone.
From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley
Doug lives in Oregon (spelled wrong / pronounced right) and escaped actuarial work to hike, snowshoe, volunteer, and string words together.
Oct
The Gandy Dark
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Three miles, under moonlight, over the dark bay, a long bridge over troubled water. Aside the Sawgrass swamps. The Doors’ low groan hypnotic. New Orleans is waiting for you. Look, I’ll drive, your friend says when you start swerving sideways. You’re slipping under, you are fading down to dreams. Yes, you say, stab your fingers into the packet of American Spirit, wave them at the pale pomelo half-plate in the sky, the sliver of moon that is lighting your way. You are on your way to meet the Devil you don’t believe in, but neither of you know it yet.
From Guest Contributor Lorette C. Luzajic
Lorette is a widely published writer of flash fiction and prose poetry, with recent or forthcoming appearances in Tiny Molecules, The Citron Review, Ghost Parachute, Dillydoun Review, and more. She is the founder and editor of The Ekphrastic Review, a journal of literature inspired by visual art.