Posts Tagged ‘Body’
Oct
It’s Not What It Seems
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Mike, feverish, tossed in bed. Head aching and muscles tense, he dreamed of the beach, the hot sun beating on his face, when a voice awakened him.
“Babe, how are you feeling,” asked his wife Liz.
“My body feels like a truck hit it.”
“You heard what the doctor said. You have the flu. Rest, Tylenol and fluids is what he prescribed.”
“Yeah, well, the flu stinks and I feel like it’s more than the flu.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I’ll make you some homemade chicken soup. That should help.”
Mike laid back, closed his eyes, and never dreamed again.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
The Unexpected Drive Home
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rain pelted against the windshield and traffic was at a standstill. Impatient drivers honked their horns to no avail and I tuned them out with my radio. Finally, the traffic began to move, but the rain didn’t let up. Every car was crawling. My stomach gurgled from hunger and my throat was parched. It had been two hours.
As I reached the drawbridge crossing there was an ambulance. Two cars collided head-on and a body laid on the ground covered with a black tarpaulin.
I shut off the radio and drove the rest of the ride home in silence.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
Unsolved
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Jon Gilbert took his tools from the back of the company van, walked to Jocelyn Pierce’s front door, and started to ring the bell when he noticed that the door was ajar. He was perplexed, having been warned by his boss that Mrs. Pierce, who was robbed a few months before, was obsessed with home security. Not wanting to enter the Pierce house uninvited, Jon shouted “Arno Landscaping.” When there was no response, he stepped into Mrs. Pierce’s foyer. There he found her lifeless body, supine, unmoving eyes staring, not seeing, a faceless doll nailed to the ceiling above her.
From Guest Contributor Dave Harper
Dave, a recovering software developer, now finds himself addicted to writing fiction.
Mar
Plague
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
First little Amy was stricken, taking three days to die.
After collecting the body, the wardens painted the black cross on the door.
Then her husband and son Mark sickened. She could do nothing for their agonies.
A cart collected them to be buried in the pit.
Now the street is sealed off. No food arrives, and the water is almost gone.
She sneezes twice. She knows this is the end. But what is there to live for?
Thus the pauper Mary Wells died alone in London in 1665, with no priest to console her, no caring God above her.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He has had poems and short stories published in The Ekphrastic Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 A Literary Journal, Dead Snakes, Schlock! Webzine, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, and in various anthologies.
Nov
Only Flying
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was not until it hit the blade of the worst rock, riddled with femurs and water skulls, that the river split open and found the leverage to jump out of its bed. It left comfortable moss, minnows’ gossip, and the sound of its own body rubbing past stones, on or around. It surrendered, leapt without choosing, a reflection in air of the path it had known before—the meadow, the factory, the wooden swing. The cottonwoods, black and white. It had become the ocean it had always wanted to meet, silent now, still on the same path. Only flying.
From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat
Brook holds a BA from Vassar College and an MFA in Writing from Lindenwood University. She teaches college writing and is the co-owner and chief editor of BluePlanetJournal.com. Her nonfiction, poetry, and flash fiction have appeared in Creations Magazine, Little India, Outpost, Nowhere Poetry, and The Syzygy Poetry Journal.
Nov
Betrayed
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Leo squeezed Hayden’s neck. Slowly the life began to leave her body as her eyes widened and face reddened.
“You slept with him, you damn witch!” Leo squeezed harder banging Hayden’s head against the wall until she collapsed with a thump, her dead eyes staring blankly at him. Leo released his grip and took a deep breath wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his hand.
Leo wiped down every trace of his finger prints and DNA. He put the gloves in his pocket and left Hayden’s house intent on finding the man she left him for.
From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
The Veil Of Light
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My body wakes to join my mind in shock as scenes of a distorted world vanish, and realization sinks in. The darkness of the world I inhabit dissipates, and the light arises once more. Haunted by the past and present, but none so terrifying are they to the unknown of the future. That eldritch thing that lurks behind the veil of light, creeping across the land and praised by the Cult of the New Dawn. I lie here in fear, hoping and praying that I possess the strength to face it once more, to conquer the daemon of the day.
From Guest Contributor Michael Atherton
Mar
Her Note
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The front door slammed.
Before leaving, she posted a note on its frame. Unlike the daily reminders she scribbled, this one was blank.
Her husband grasped at the sofa for comfort, nestling his body in her lingering perfume. Their terrier snuggled beside him.
His mind revisited their argument. Was he wrong to throw back insults at her?
When the doorknob turned, he looked up.
“I didn’t write you a note,” she said with her voice breaking.
“I noticed.”
For a while they sat together in silence watching the sunset.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.
Oct
The Incubus
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When misery left, I missed it dearly. Numbness arrived in its place–an evil lurking miles below sorrow.
Then the Incubus came. His fingers soothed me, dancing like spiders across my back, before plucking me from my flesh.
Exquisite melodies escaped his mouth instead of language. I understood every word.
He held me on his fist, soaring me to gloomy, lilac clouds. My body quaked, and it began to rain.
My thoughts fluttered like butterflies. He captured them; sang my own song back to me.
Sadly, he was just a dream; but the Incubus cured me, bringing back my misery.
From Guest Contributor L. Michelle Corp
Oct
What It Felt Like To Die
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I plummet to the earth–the emerald field I stood upon moments before.
The one who injured me was merely a streak of shadows which approached, just as quickly as he vanished.
Below my navel is a tiny puncture. What was once unblemished flesh is now a faucet, bathing soil with my body’s vital broth.
I realize my aorta is severed.
Clouds bob and flicker, bearing the faces of my family. I panic, fervidly trying to grasp them–their expressions are indifferent, unresponsive.
Instantly, tranquility engulfs me. Darkness eclipses my vision. I surrender, relishing the divine slumber that beckons me.
From Guest Contributor L. Michelle Corp