Posts Tagged ‘Children’
Jun
The Fourth Of July
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Pig, of brick house fame, smelled something burning. Was it a weasel? Then he heard cursing coming from next door. Witch again! After countless warnings from the city, she’d refused to clean up the candy bits and cake that littered her yard, refused to cease and desist in the eating of children. But what if she was on fire? What about the Good Samaritan Law? A law that he and his two brothers scoffed at years before, when they thought taunting a wolf caught in a trap was amusing, almost as enjoyable as the fireworks on the Fourth of July.
From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe
Jun
A Good Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My day wasn’t a wasted one after all, he said to the man in the mirror while washing the blood from his hands. He lifted his shirt and uncovered a nasty wound on his abdomen. His clothes were ruined, those stains would never wash out.
The radio was on and reported on events earlier that day:
“…concerning the mystery man who saved two children from a burning building. The man jumped through a window on the second floor carrying the infants. He might be in need of some medical attention…”
Not a bad day at all, said the Superhero.
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé Suys (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing whilst recovering from a sports injury. He writes his disturbing fiction generally barefooted and hatless.
May
Determination
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Through the stained-glass window, the heat of the sun beams on my face while mellifluous birds chirp in unison. I yearn to be outside on this spring day, listening to the sounds of nature, and children’s chortles, but my body lays limp.
Something is wrong. The hospital is bustling, and I hear shouting. “He is coding!” The doctor is giving orders and then I hear the sound of the defibrillator.
“Clear!” Thump. “Again.” “Clear!” Thump. “Again.” “Clear!” Thump.
The monitor steadies and the doctor sighs relief. “He has stabilized. This patient is determined.”
After my arduous episode, I rest soundly.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Tire Chains
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“I’m packing tire chains in the boys’ luggage. Just wrap them around the tires,” the father of my two nephews advised.
“Sounds easy.” I reply. “We’ll have fun in the snow!”
Three days later, my nephews and I are standing by the snow-laden roadside with tire chains wrapped around the axle.
We look forlorn and lost. A park ranger passes by, a CHP passes by, and a dozen travelers glance at a young woman and two children in distress.
“Lady? Need some help?” says a tatooed Hell’s Angel over the roar of his Harley.
“Please! You are an angel. Thanks.”
From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin
Nov
Close Memories
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s Halloween and I’m at my wife’s grave for her anniversary. She died three years ago, and I made a promise that I would be there every year to place a large pumpkin next to her headstone.
Halloween had been Terrie’s favorite holiday. She enlivened the house with carved pumpkins on every table, spooky collectible houses with eerie music and lots of candy for the children.
I missed her, but I kept the memories of her love close.
When I turned to leave, I felt something touch my arm.
I looked back at the grave and the pumpkin was gone.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Beauty Of Life
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Walking through the park’s garden, the fresh scent of grass and flowers soothes me. The leaves are slowly blowing in the breeze and the chipmunks race around the path.
Children are laughing and playing baseball while their parents proudly watch, and it reminds me of my own childhood summers, playing catch with my friends while my father coached us on our throws.
I wish I could go back and be young again, but I can’t change time. I’m elderly, brittle and fortunate to be able to walk at my age.
This is why I’m thankful for the beauty of life.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
The Queen
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HUBRIS CONTEST:
She relished her place at the center of the colony. All her needs were met. Her food was brought to her, as well for her nursing children. She had thousands of workers at her beck and call, digging, constructing, foraging. Mating took place whenever she felt the urge. Even her waste was disposed of for her.
Taken care of in this manner, was it any wonder that she could expect to live for as long as ninety years? Every day, nothing but leisure.
She thought herself fortunate, but all the other ants thought of her as nothing but a slave.
From Guest Contributor Wilson Edwards
Jun
The Century Plant
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
People lined up around the block, masks on, cameras and children in hand. The news spread fast, as these things do in 2020, via Facebook and Instagram. Some thought it might be a hoax, but any excuse to leave the house was welcome.
The woman who planted the Agave was just ten years old when she and her dad had picked placed the little cactus in their front yard. She’d decided to hold onto the house after her parents moved to Florida hoping to see it flower someday. Now, despite the crowds and reporters, the long wait had been worth it.
From Guest Contributor Alice Ryder
Jun
An Appreciation Of Nature
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
David led the group to the African Savanna. He’d been here many times and knew the habits of the big cats, in particular the lions, which were what everyone wanted to see. “They mostly just lay around in the sun, resting. But watching them feed is a transformative experience.”
No one seemed impressed. Even the children were more interested in their phones than looking at the animals. It was a sad commentary on the state of the world.
“Acting this way can get you killed in the wild,” he warned.
“Good thing we’re at the zoo then,” one boy retorted.
From Guest Contributor Leonard Panse
Apr
Divorced
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m the son of divorce to the neighborhood. Parents keep me from their children. They don’t know my pedigree, they claim. Nothing against me personally.
They know about Dad and his liaisons. They slander over smiles and Sinatra. Mother’s a “hysteric.” Can’t keep a husband. Son’s a bastard.
Mother wears starched smiles for neighbors, weeps at night.
I want to fight. I want Mother to smile. Let neighbors hate me for loving Elvis, not for Dad’s idiocy. I want to cruise the streets, to be called friend. Best friend.
I’d be considered hysterical to mention this.
I don a smile.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, 50 Word Stories, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.