Posts Tagged ‘daughter’
Feb
There Was No Pity
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I watched my daughter die.
The hospital staff laid out a cot in her room. They gave me free passes to the cafeteria. They pitied me in a kindly way and I hated them for all of it.
I watched my daughter die.
I argued with the doctors. I argued with the customer service agents. I argued with my friends and family for no good reason. They all pitied me. All of them were one way conversations. None of them knew what to say to me.
I argued with God and there was no pity.
I watched my daughter die.
Aug
The Statue
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The old master carved the tortured limbs and anguished face out of the stone.
Christ on the cross came from his very soul, he who had witnessed war, massacres and the plague that had taken his wife and dearest daughter, his whole life seeming one long crucifixion.
He cursed the God that had forsaken him and the bishop who had commissioned the artifact for the new cathedral. Tired and sick, he died a few days after the statue was completed.
For centuries after his death, visitors stood in awe before his creation that spoke of suffering and, to some, redemption.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Dec
Camaraderie
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Quibble believes the Paterson boy is getting a little close to his daughter. He has seen how tethered they sit when allowed to linger together on the porch. Three school dances in a row they have been each other’s primary partner. Quibble’s wife has taken to complimenting for no reason, with fanfare, the boy’s taste in clothing. The conspiracy grows. Quibble is sure, if he had a mind to intercede, he could find the couple parked in the graveyard, innocently – so far – bobbing for lumber. He likes the boy well enough. He has to find a way to warn him.
From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner
Dec
All The Time In The World
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Paul, Emily here.” Pleasant and composed as always. “I need a power of attorney for my mom, Agnes.”
“Sure. Why the POA?”
“Mom has terminal cancer. Not yet but very soon she’ll need heavy morphine. I’ll handle her affairs.”
We meet at Hospice. Agnes is sitting up, hair brushed, gracious, as pleasant and composed as Emily. She signs the POA, we find witnesses. We chat, then: “Thanks, Paul, so very much. Goodbye!” All without any misgivings, remorse, self-pity. As I leave, mother and daughter carry on, chatting amiably. They make the most of it.
All the time in the world.
From Guest Contributor Tony Covatta
Oct
Echo Of Inevitability
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sounds become muffled. All she hears is an echo bouncing off the walls. For an infinitesimal moment her soul levitates, detaching from the present. She looks at the doctor’s face as words grow inaudible. A silent scream explodes from her lungs into an invisible body spasm. A voice in her head continues unrestrained: ‘She’ll be alone” but her mind allows her to compose herself as she kisses minuscule freckles on her daughter’s face. As chubby little fingers wipe off her tears, she peers into the eyes of Innocence, so intrinsic, untainted.
The headstone inscribes: ‘RIP Innocence. Your life starts anew.’
From Guest Contributor Andrea Damic
Amateur photographer and author of micro and flash fiction, Andrea Damic, born in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, lives in Sydney, Australia. Her words have been published or are forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Friday Flash Fiction, Microfiction Monday Magazine, Paragraph Planet, 100 Word Project & TDDR with her art featuring or forthcoming in Rejection Letters, Door Is A Jar Magazine, and Fusion Art’s Exhibitions. One day she hopes to finish and publish her novel. You can find her on TW @DamicAndrea, Facebook or Instagram.
Jun
Platero And I: Someone Wrote To Colonel
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The Colonel finally got mail, Platero. He has been waiting for this letter for such a long time: his daughter will finally visit him, after all those years. And he will meet the granddaughter he didn’t even know existed.
I remember that, after another violent argument with the Colonel, she ran away one night, carrying nothing more than the clothes she was wearing.
All searching was ultimately in vain.
I never told anyone this before, Platero, but I have sheltered her for over a week, until the search was given up.
Her as well as the fruit in her womb.
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.
May
He’s Not Coming Back
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“He’s not coming back, honey.”
“Don’t say that Daddy.”
“Baby, maybe it’s for the best.”
With that, Charlotte wailed and ran out of the living room crying. “You always hated him, didn’t you?”
Robert followed his only daughter into the kitchen. “I hated how he treated you. But he’s your husband.”
“He’s always come back.”
“You mean after he puts you in the ER?
“Not helpful.”
“Perhaps you’re right, he’ll come back. I need to go for a drive and give you some space.” Robert thought it best he get rid of the shovel from the back of his truck.
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
Apr
Fatigue
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The day I wound a rope around my neck and jumped off the washing machine wasn’t even the worst day of that week. It started when I met my best friend Helen at McDonald’s for coffee.
“It’s your Harold,” she said. “He’s having an affair.”
I gotta tell ya, I laughed so hard, coffee came out my nose, and it was hot! “Come on,” I said. Harold doesn’t have the stamina to have an affair.”
But he was.
And she was our daughter’s college roommate.
And our daughter approved.
And I was too tired to divorce him.
So I left.
From Guest Contributor Pat Tyrer
Pat is a writer who hikes and watches birds when the sun is up and star gazes when it’s not. When not reading or writing, she can be found out walking with her dog Emma. Her work has appeared in Readers’ Digest, Quiet Mountain Essays, Black Fox Literary Magazine, among others. She has published two poetry books: Creative Hearts (Path Publishing) and Western Spaces, Western Places (Local Gems Press).
Feb
Not Today
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sam’s touched up face, slicked brown hair and embalmed body, reminded me that he really was gone.
I sat in the front row as family and friends approached, the same words spoken repeatedly.
“We’re so sorry for your loss, Janny.”
The room filled with flowers, from bleeding hearts to white lilies gave an aroma of a florist rather than a wake.
The priest began to speak, and the room quieted, except for my weeping.
Cancer took my husband too early. He’ll never see his daughter graduate college.
Now I must break the news of my Parkinson’s disease. But not today.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Soldier’s Return
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s been years since I could feel my wife’s hands on my body, and I can’t wait to lay next to her in bed caressing her soft skin.
I didn’t know what to give my kids for Christmas, so I made a collage of all the letters and pictures my son and daughter sent me. I made the same gift for my wife, but with a personal touch, for her eyes only. Their pictures and letters helped keep me strong through the long war.
The bus has come to a stop.
The three of them are here, smiling, anxiously waiting.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher