Posts Tagged ‘Bench’
Dec
Discovery
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The light was dim and in the blue to purple spectrum, but he could barely keep his hands from shaking. There between trembling fingers, was the first synthetic bioluminescent bulb.
He thought he heard a creak in the darkness. The deeper shadows of conspiracy theories crossed his field of vision like eye-floaters: fears that some capitalist cadre would send black ops to assassinate him and ‘disappear’ his research. Beads of sweat chilled along his spine.
Then he noticed a reddish glow from one of the beakers on the bench: one containing a slightly different formula. The scientist chased the child.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jan
The Exporter’s Lament
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
In Export there is something heroic about earning foreign currency for my country. It makes up for jet lag, family absences, and living out of a suitcase.
Disembarking the flight home, I am thinking of freshly made meals and welcome home sex, not necessarily in that order.
I open the front door to enter a silent, empty house; furniture, fixtures and fittings gone.
On the kitchen bench the business card of a lawyer, specializing in Family Law.
My mind floods with stories told by fellow exporters, their helpless acute vulnerability, when their wives ran off with another man or woman.
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry O’Farrell is an actor in Brisbane Australia, who worked in Export many years ago.
Other stories by Barry can be found at Cyclamens and Swords, 50 Word Stories and here at A Story In 100 Words.
Jan
Our Orchard
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We chased each other between rows of plum trees. Leafy boughs drooped with blossoms casting shadows in our tracks.
We kissed when we caught up. I sank into your embrace wishing you would never let go.
But you did. A high school classmate was more clever than I. Grabbed your vulnerability. Clawed at your masculinity. You found her sexy.
I’ve returned. Standing across the street from a playground where our orchard used to be. The fruit trees were gone except for one.
Boys played rough ball games. One on a bench looked like you.
Love no longer filled that space.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction. Her recent work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories and espresso stories.
Apr
Moon Swallows Head of Barking Dog
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A young girl and her father sit on a bench and stare into the lake. They are stuck this way forever. From here on out, they must focus unblinking on the way it does not ripple, how no stone may enter and how no fish can leave. Across the park, a squirrel clings to a tree, his heart always exploding, a white dog snapping at his tail. The water reflects the moon and calls down the night, pocked with clouds– the sky split in two, half of it black, half of it blue; there is no color where they merge.
From Guest Contributor, Jeremy S. Griffin
Feb
There Is A Tiger Waiting For All Of Us
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rain fell lightly upon the pavement. Benfer was dry in the bus shelter, but he was trapped as well. He watched as the moisture slowly seeped closer and it wasn’t very long before he’d been forced onto the bench.
Across the street, even in the dim light, Benfer could see the tiger. This was not an ordinary tiger, of course. It was the tiger that had been stalking him his entire life.
The difference between tigers and Benfer was that tigers weren’t afraid of moisture. Benfer’s last, sad thought was that he’d expected his story to end very differently.