Posts Tagged ‘Curse’
Aug
The Do-Gooder From Beyond The Grave
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Shit! Here he comes.
“I’m running for cancer research on Sunday.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say looking at the gaunt face, an over-achiever in athletics as well as the office.
“Will you sponsor me? Most are pitching in a pound or two per mile.”
Christ, a fucking half-marathon.
I pledge a pound.
“Thanks, it’s a good cause.”
Monday morning. He’s late, he’s never late.
“Bad news,” says the boss. “Mike collapsed and died after the race.”
Thirteen quid saved, I think amidst the office tears.
“I suggest we all double our contributions to show respect,” says the boss.
God damn him!
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He has had short stories and poems published in Schlock! Webzine, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, Dead Snakes, 1947 A Literary Journal, and in various anthologies. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.
Oct
Journey
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
This is a long haul, intercontinental flight. In the allocated, limited space on the plane it is a matter of organizing myself.
The challenge is to get as comfortable as possible. In such a tight space it is not easy. I keep shifting position.
I can’t believe how cramped conditions are and quietly curse the designer.
A saying pops into my mind. It is the journey, not the destination.
Common words yet concise and sagacious, they resonate immediately.
The most contradictory thing about this wise saying strikes me; globally quoted, all the while remaining completely unknown in the airline industry.
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry is an actor who sometimes writes, living in Brisbane, Australia.
The Arts Alliance of Pine Rivers has announced Barry’s piece RETREADS as runner up in their most recent writing competition. Also, Barry’s story ARMED will appear in The Flash Fiction Press during the last week of October.
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
Mar
The Vigil
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Even to this day I curse, swear and kick myself for having dozed off that painful night. Though I kept vigil all through her illness, the feeling of guilt has never subsided.
She was my strength.
I knew the meaning of the cloudy eyes and immobility. After three consecutive nights, the strain on my eyes was too much and I slipped. It was at such a weak moment she chose to give up her fight…that hurt me.
My being awake at her last moments would mean nothing, but I feel guilty for expecting the death of my loving pet.
From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.
Nov
An Alcoholic, A Nuclear Bomb
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Fact: an atomic bomb was detonated 8.4 km from where Wally Kazinsky was repairing the toilet in a decent brothel. The brick house shivered violently from the blast, a few windows shattered. There’d been talk of an attack, and Wally considered the possibility. He grabbed his glass of scotch before he went to look out the window. His legs were wobbly. Maybe nervous, but definitely drunk.
People were crying, hurt, bleeding. Fuck. They were probably already bathed in radiation. Wally was dizzy but lucid enough. Time for emergency measures. He found his hammer, and headed to the corner liquor store.
From Guest Contributor Wil Wang
Nov
Home School
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was agreed I would be home schooled, with my Mother as the teacher.
I didn’t know what to make of it. I mean, it’s not like I’m a poor scholar or dumb. It’s just that regular school complained I am a disruptive influence with an attitude problem.
All the school administrators care about are their own rules.
At the end of day one, Dad walked through the door and asked how it had gone down.
“It would have gone a lot better if the teacher wasn’t such a bitch,” was my candid reply.
That’s how I flunked home school.
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. The acting experience has inspired a latent desire to write. Barry is enjoying the challenge of writing in 100 words.
Aug
The Curse
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
To this day, I don’t know what I did to anger her. I was waiting at the stoplight at Pinehurst and Rock Creek. An old woman was crossing, decrepit really, and if I was guilty of anything, it was allowing my gaze to linger a fraction too long, perhaps just a tincture of disgust in my expression. When she looked in my direction, I immediately turned away.
That’s when she began screaming, condemning me and all my future progeny. She even spit on my windshield.
From that day, I’ve never approached an intersection without being stopped at a red light.