Posts Tagged ‘Death’
Sep
A Netflix Original
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Two Scandinavian dudes set out in a vintage VW microbus to prove the secretary-general of the United Nations was the victim of assassination. But then, by accident, they discover an attempt to eliminate entirely the smoking of cigarettes after sex. The Scandinavians meet a leader of an underground militia who says that while that’s his signature on the document, he didn’t write the signature himself. I got to be honest, I was expecting more: maybe a “crime wall,” with photos and red strings and so on; maybe the angel of death promising in a mocking tone to stay in touch.
Howie Good is the author most recently of What It Is and How to Use It from Grey Book Press. He co-edits the journals Unbroken and UnLost.
Aug
Death’s Head
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Retreating from Leningrad respect for the Soviets had grown amongst SS Totenkopf, elevated from Untermensch – ‘suhumans’ – to Bolsheviks.
After the bombardment from the eerily howling Katyushas – ‘Stalin’s organs’ – half of Franz’s platoon had been blown to bits, their blood staining the snow.
Silence.
Then line after line of T-34 tanks covered in infantrymen appeared over the frozen steppe.
The odds were impossible, yet none would surrender, warriors moulded by the code of blood, iron and unconquerable will.
Franz, 19, watching the approaching hordes, glanced at the Totenkopf – ‘Death’s Head’ – insignia on his lapel.
Yes, this was what he existed for.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Jun
Mr. Death
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The security guard at the door had asked you to open your backpack, please. All the contents had crumbled as soon as they’d been exposed to light. Now a bride and groom were standing on a raised platform with blindfolds in place. “I feel like we’re in the apocalypse,” I whispered. “We kinda are,” you answered. And yet most of the attendees maintained the blank expression usually reserved for looking at glowing screens. An officiant in a hooded garment joined the couple up on stage. We should’ve left then, before the dancers sprang out from somewhere and scattered your ashes.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is on the pavement, thinking about the government.
Mar
Bespoke
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Gordon hated being measured. It wasn’t just the crinkled-paper hands running over his body, but also the implication that in the intervening months he had changed shape.
This was the price he paid for original attire. Whether it was too familiar touches or jealous stares, Gordon’s success was a constant chore. Yet these labors must be endured, for triteness was the precursor to death.
Let the old man fondle his buttocks, and the common folk stare at his unconventional wardrobe. He was one of the few people in the world that could claim he was truly one of a kind.
Nov
Where Did All The Anger Go?
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She raged against the shackles that fashion lashed around her body, that gender weighed upon her soul, and she spit and she clawed and she cursed the names of the boys who mocked her aspirations.
Until she fell in love with a man and he told her lies about what was possible and she managed to stop cursing all the boys and their contempt. The aspersions weren’t gone but just forgotten as she slowly bled to death.
She’d once promised to burn herself to ashes but that was long ago. Now she asked herself “Where did all the anger go?”
Nov
The Course of True Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
here is my number call would you like to see thanks I had a really I think I am falling my love is like a shall I compare thee to my true love hath I will love you until to be my lawfully wedded from this day forward to cherish till death do us what God has joined how could you treat me how long have you been after all that I have I want to get a have filed a petition for citing irreconcilable differences irretrievably broken by this agreement decree nisi to voluntarily be duly executed and delivered
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Nov
Mary Of Silence
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
From where she stood, she watched the blood soak into the hard, compacted earth. It was like watching water that has spilled from a glass onto the countertop evaporate in fast motion. Soon it would be as if the dark fluid had never been there, absorbed into this wasteland where it could serve no purpose.
Mary wanted to scream. But her voice had fled long ago. With no one willing to listen futility had eventually won out. The doctors called it aphasia.
So Mary watched her husband die. Here, freedom surely was a bitterness. Alone, she started walking towards sunset.
Jul
The Golden Thread Part Two
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“What is that? I can’t see. Some sweet jungle flower. Are we getting close?”
“No, it is poetry, a copycat fragrance to lure butterflies. It is carnivorous. Stay back—”
“Those are my words on the vines! God, those electric blue letters! Let’s read—”
“Don’t—”
“Why? ‘Once upon a time I died. I crucified myself on a ladder made from the bones of birds, hollow, not yet cleaned by cannibals or the sun, yet flightworthy by nature.’ I wrote that.”
“The vines will strangle you, make you blind, make you forget why you are here. And then you drop the thread.”
From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat
Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Empty Mirror Magazine, Little India, Dămfīno, Nowhere Poetry, Rat’s Ass Review, Peacock Journal, A Story in 100 Words, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies, and are forthcoming in MoonPark Review and Almagre. She has completed a full-length poetry manuscript, is writing a novel, and is editor-in-chief of Blue Planet Journal. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University and teaches creative writing at a community college. More at brook-bhagat.com
Jul
Conquest Sapiens
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Winter today felt like death. Sor glared at the obvious trail leading to his concealment.
The scentless pale race had carried out a callous pogrom against his kind. He was the last. They’d extracted the cave tribe like so many snails from their shells.
The speed and nature of the slaughter had appalled. Herded into a clear space, Gargar and her people had seemed to shrink, then vanish in light when the captors had waved short sticks in their direction.
Better to die fighting.
Sor tensed. Someone– His crouching body disintegrated.
“The planet’s sterilized,” the marine announced over her com.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
May
The Snake Tree
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The forest saw it all. Less than a moon turn she lasted.
Wrapped in a shroud, he planted her in the leafy earth under the shade of birch and pine. Worms and beetles took her to the forest, bit by bit.
She called to him from the snake tree, and he rushed to her while the moon shone across the water. They lay on sheets of green. Her embrace was stronger than death. Beetles and worms took him bit by bit. The rustle of leaves and the sighing of wind.
The forest saw it all and the forest was pleased.
From Guest Contributor David Rae
David lives in Scotland. He loves stories that exist just below the surface of things, like deep water.
He has most recently had work published or forthcoming in; THE FLATBUSH REVIEW, THE HORROR TREE, LOCUST, ROSETTA MALEFICARIUM, SHORT TALE 100, and 50 WORD STORIES. You can read more at Davidrae-stories.com