Aug
Night
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Floodlights dancing over the facade of D.C.’s skyline, lurid swirls of white illuminating lifeless constructs. Helicopters flitting, sound of thwift-thwift, fiery arcs followed by rifle’s boom. Jamie clasped his fingers between chain link and watched. Behind him, scattered over a lightless tract of dirt, the naked dying, bleeding from eyes, cries of pain a muted keening of metal. Above: C.D.C. in masks and Hazmat suits, brandishing assault weapons. Washington was long dark—indeed, the entire country. Jamie gazed upwards. The milky way had manifested like fever dream, ephemeral and monolithic, a terrible Prince awaiting its prize’s return to benign jungle.
From Guest Contributor John Webb
This is a repost of a story from 2014 that accidentally got deleted.
Aug
What We Remind Ourselves To See
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
His heart was in the right place, Mama would say. To explain away anything Kurt did. Like it was about location, his heart, being where it should be. He meant well. I nod like I agree. But on good days when Timmy takes a nap after lunch, I go out on the front porch, close the door behind me. Think about how I’d pack just a few things, wear a white summer dress. I stand there on the porch alone, and it’s like I’m riding in a fancy car with the top down. Letting the sun and wind hit me.
From Guest Contributor Beth Mead
Aug
My Love Is A Store
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My love is a store whose shelves are stocked with goods which are all long past their expiration date. Somewhere amongst the forgotten and unwanted items I know there’s still one or two things whose time has not yet come. They’re waiting patiently, like me, for the day a shopper finally comes inside and finds exactly what’s she’s been looking for. When that day comes (and it will), all the waiting will have been worth it, and I can shut down the register, turn off the lights, and close the doors for the last time on this unique little shop.
From Guest Contributor Dan Slaten
Aug
Fresh Air
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
After twelve years of working on the 72nd floor of that building his curiosity got the better of him.
He’d been warned, “Whatever you do, don’t open the windows on this floor.” But it was the only floor with windows that opened. Why would there be a rule against using them?
Everyone was diligently working in their cubicles. He’d only crack it an inch or two. The latch flipped quietly.
Just as he placed his hands against the pane it disappeared, as if it had never existed. In his surprise he didn’t realize he’d leaned forward too far. He fell.
From Guest Contributor Cameron Filas
Aug
Winner
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I enjoy winning. I am competitive by nature.
The trouble starts when winning becomes the focus.
To be honest, for me the trouble starts when winning becomes everything. Winning for the sake of winning, I describe as the ultimate step.
Especially when I am in a room full of other people who are winners, or think they are winners.
Damage happens. I know the masochistic irony of what it is like to win, and lose, simultaneously. In private, as I tally the losses, my self-loathing grows.
Yes, in my case it is a sickness. My doctor has diagnosed ‘Auction Fever.’
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry’s other stories may be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 50 Word Stories, 101 Words, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.
Aug
Unwelcome
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The skittering as her nails scrabbled at the tiles on the front door hall: impotent in the face of his grip on her favourite leash.
The desperate eyes and face as she strained against a collar she could have slipped off her wasted neck; had her limbs moved that way. That is my last image of Honey.
Her frenzied bark in the background of the terrible phone call I took from traction was the last noise and the reason I vowed never to have another dog.
I’m going to kill the spoiled little Shitzon which pisses on my book collection.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Aug
Blocked
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“C’mon, Helen, add me back! I know you’re still active.”
She knocked a few more times on the portion of the wall where the door had been, hopelessly. Livid, she cursed the day she granted Helen authority to set permissions in her house.
It was progress, they said, that rooms and buildings could be subject to malleable privacy permissions. But now, locked outside, she missed the days when connections were not so easily lost.
No message came from inside, but, crouched with ears against the wall, she thought she could hear the distant buzz of postings addressed to someone else.
From Guest Contributor Leonardo A. Castro
Aug
Her Recipe
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
With more downs than ups, Francine realized she needed to make a drastic change. To reverse an unfulfilled lifestyle where only food seemed to delight her.
She would find a new recipe. Something appetizing. Fresh. Not too many ingredients for she wouldn’t know how to put it together. Unwanted ones not given a chance. She’d aim for excellence maintaining good judgment in taste. Leave critics aside.
After going through her closets and emerging empty-handed, she looked at a mirror and smiled. Grabbed car keys off a dresser.
She figured out her recipe for happiness.
Clothing stores were not far away.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, and Espresso stories.
Jul
Concluding Forever
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We thought we’d have forever, but forever doesn’t last as long as it once did. One year, seven months, four days since we wed. Your beauty captivated me. Never thinking of yourself, you touched many lives, changed them, helped people achieve their deepest aspirations. You challenged me, forced me to chase my dreams. But what about your dreams, desires? You’ll never reach them now. You were there for me, but I failed you. Forgive me?
I’ll never forget. Never stop chasing. You’ll be with me forever my love, more than just a stone in the ground, part of me.
Goodbye.
From Guest Contributor Joshua Lanham
Jul
We Are Not Responsible For Lost Or Damaged Baggage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Let him hold and spoon your every nook and cranny of pre-decaying skin. Cut yourself slightly to scrutinize the way you bleed. Is it different?
During his flight later on, he will serve the peanuts and diet cokes to suits and pantsuits that view themselves as better, and this time they will be right. He knows, you know, and the ten untainted cells between you both know, too.
Tell your all-knowing daughter that you, Daddy, are too good at making friends.
Give tickets out with fervor.
Let yourself believe for a mere moment that you can run away for good.
From Guest Contributor Jacqueline McGarry