Posts Tagged ‘Death’
Oct
Death Of A Student
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The email arrives just after 7:30 am, and its subject line is blunt: “death of a student”
You read this slowly. Twice. Open the message. In two sentences, the Dean of Students tells you everything: She was killed in a car accident. They’re working to remove her from your roster.
You delete the message, drag it back out of the Deleted Items folder, read it again.
The news isn’t public yet. You can’t say anything in class.
Her seat is empty. You pass out the day’s reading assignment and have an extra copy, which you quietly drop in the trash.
From Guest Contributor Shane Borrowman
Jul
Gift
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Philonik was born into slavery. He never knew love, and was barely treated better than an animal. Known for his obstinance and refusal to obey commands, he was beaten often and mercilessly. There were also times that he was treated cruelly simply out of malice, the victim of abuses that can’t be repeated here.
He was subject to hard labor on a daily basis, until he was no longer able to handle the rigors and thrashings. He was lame, blind, discarded, with nothing left but to beg for the barest scraps, until one day he died.
Life is a gift.
Apr
Oh Baby
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He’s seeking to please, down on his knees, when everything freezes.
He’s holding his breath, scared half to death, then everything stops.
She’s the love of his life, one day his wife, when everything freezes, his heart starts and drops.
There’s not enough time, it’s all a true crime. Some kind of conspiracy, no true north polarity.
His thoughts have a meter, his words want to rhyme. His raison d’etre stutters sublime.
Now it’s all over, she’s lost in the past. A mysterious end that happened too fast.
It just goes to show: nothing truly matters, when nothing ever lasts.
Apr
Warmth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Kathy’s headstone was weather beaten. I hadn’t been to the grave site in years and the memory of her death hit me all over again.
“Keith, he’s heading straight toward us!” Kathy screamed and then all went dark.
A drunk driver hit us head on. I was hospitalized for eight months in a coma and my wife died on impact. I was left to take care of our young son by myself.
I leaned close and placed the red roses next to her name on the stone. “I miss you, Kathy.”
A sudden warmth ran up and down my spine.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
Death Is The Last Frontier In The Simulator
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
To be stuck in a simulator of the gateway project is weird, to say the least. How do I know I am not alive? I watch as people die and come back to life. Meaning? Bob Barker. I assure you he died several times. MeatLoaf in 2014 wrecked his car, killing him only for him to die again elsewhere. Maybe death is not what one would expect.
Maybe consciousness continues until it meets an ending in some sort of programmed book outcome. The book of Enoch might be truth. We all live until our own personalized ending of hell fire.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Jan
Lost
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Which way do I go? Delirious, I have no idea. Lost, walking in the desert, hot, tired, and thirsty, my lips dry and cracked, I crumble to the ground from exhaustion.
I don’t remember how I wound up in this hell, but I know I will die here. I stare at the empty sky; the sun torching my body and pray for a quick death.
“Doctor, he’s opening his eyes.”
“Jared, can you hear me?”
Everything is blurry for a moment and then focuses. Standing before me is a doctor and nurse, the nurse gently holding my hand.
I’m home.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
In Memoriam
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sunday, you’ll have been dead a week. I sit at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of me, doing what I think you’d be doing in my place, writing something. You were a poet, a real one, a soldier with a flower in his helmet. I’m hunting and pecking when I suddenly hear the tinkling of Tibetan prayer bells. Five seconds – 10 max – pass before I realize it’s the new ringtone on my phone. A prim female voice announces, “Unknown caller.” I always just assumed Death would have the surly demeanor of the lunch ladies in a school cafeteria.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s newest poetry collection, Frowny Face, a mix of his prose poems and collages, is now available from Redhawk Publications He co-edits the online journal UnLost, dedicated to found poetry.
Jan
Age Of Reality
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Closed time curved loop? How to escape? Can one escape? The death of humanity? I doubt it. I wonder. Trapped in quantum confines, disbelief shattered when I queried the local AI about our galaxy’s age. Its cryptic answer: 50 million years. Puzzled, I questioned how Earth, at 4.5 billion years, coexisted with an arm merely 50 million years old. The AI faltered, unable to clarify. Seeking cosmic origins, I realized 50 million years aligned with the universe’s dawn. Reality morphed within this fragment, hinting at an enigmatic age defining both inception and present, blurring the edges of perception and time.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Nov
Live A Little Before You Are Eaten
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Hybrid kids of Earth? Munching on mermaids? Half-trout, half-human tumors to turbocharge fish growth? A few escape, and voilà, mermaids? Dining on Manitours? Half-cow, half-human tumors? Some flee, transforming Earth into fairyland? How ’bout orcs? Half-pig, half-human tumors? Orcs could settle scores when they flee. The weirdest? Chickenman. End days echo Noah’s. Bon appétit! The sad truth of mankind? Will humanity never learn? Eating yourself to death is humanity into Soylent Green all over again? Does humanity never listen and learn change your way before you become the meal of the day. For in the end. Live before being eaten.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Sep
Death Of Humanity Or Earth?
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Déjà vu? Exactly when did Japan decide to kill an ocean? 2022? Or 2024? Or this coming Thursday? ‘Tis a question of the mind, it would seem. Meaning?
Each of those dates Japan had decided to let lose their nuclear waste into the ocean. The next question is Indian ocean or Pacific? Which will die? A third of the living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed. To hope for salvation. And realize that governments of the world are fighting UFOs or God or gods? It makes reality kind of fictional today. Doesn’t it?
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle