Posts Tagged ‘Door’
Jan
If You Climb, Fall
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There was a wound-dresser in the forest, somewhere deep, maybe sleeping in the sticky tree hollow that still sometimes holds nesting dolls and eggs, tiny gifts, talismans, things we know matter, twin feet in this world and the other. So, when you came, under sun, scabs freshly bloomed, populating your back’s nude surface, to announce what the branches had left when you slid their surfaces from canopy to ground, I handed you a ticket for the woods and we left together, closing each door behind, certain that another Carthage burns softer the closer we come to any shore at all.
From Guest Contributor Kelli Allen
Kelli is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee and has won awards for her poetry, prose, and scholarly work. She served as Managing Editor of Natural Bridge and holds an MFA from the University of Missouri St. Louis. She is the director of the River Styx Hungry Young Poets Series and founded the Graduate Writers Reading Series for UMSL. She is currently a Professor of Humanities and Creative Writing at Lindenwood University. Allen is the author of two chapbooks and one flash fiction collection. Her full-length poetry collection, Otherwise, Soft White Ash, arrived from John Gosslee Books in 2012 and was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize.
Nov
A Long Trip
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The neighbor came over and knocked on my door. The rain fell in torrents.
“Come inside,” I said.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just be a minute.” Garbed in a raincoat, he rested an axe against his shoulder.
“Returning this,” he said.
“Oh, thanks.”
“Might be a bit dull.”
“No problem. I have a whetstone.”
“Need another favor,” he said.
“Sure.”
“Need to borrow a shovel.” I thought it odd, but I fetched a shovel for him. He turned and began to leave.
“Hey Bill,” I said. “Is Grace back from her trip yet?”
He walked away. Only the wind replied.
From Guest Contributor Dave Lignell
Aug
What We Remind Ourselves To See
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
His heart was in the right place, Mama would say. To explain away anything Kurt did. Like it was about location, his heart, being where it should be. He meant well. I nod like I agree. But on good days when Timmy takes a nap after lunch, I go out on the front porch, close the door behind me. Think about how I’d pack just a few things, wear a white summer dress. I stand there on the porch alone, and it’s like I’m riding in a fancy car with the top down. Letting the sun and wind hit me.
From Guest Contributor Beth Mead
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
Jul
Gone
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A little red toy truck rolled across the floor followed by quick scurrying steps. He picked up the truck, looking to the door, then to his grandmother, who was quietly waiting by the stairs. A light rapping on the door. The woman knew what this was.
Opening the door, quiet words were exchanged. Just as quickly, the door closed again.
The boy’s grandmother gave him a pat on the head and made her way up the stairs, unable to speak to him.
His eyes followed after her. He clutched the little red toy truck that much closer to his chest.
From Guest Contributor Nicole Rand
Jun
Her Date
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She didn’t let anger precipitate her tears. Not yet. She was intent on finding the man of her passion. Approach him head-on. Strike him repeatedly with fiery bolts as thunderclouds rolled in her eyes.
Stiletto heels clicked her steps up the runway to where he lived. She rang the doorbell. Waited.
How could he forget a special day or ignore it?
She noticed the door ajar. Pushed it. Entered a dark apartment.
“Surprise,” voices screamed in unison. Lights went on.
Her beau poked his head into view from the other side of the door.
“Happy birthday, honey,” he managed sheepishly.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, and espresso stories.
May
House Hunting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The realtor pushed the door open. “Will your wife be joining us?”
“Don’t worry about her. Does it have everything I asked for?”
“I believe it does.”
“Which way to the basement?”
She led him through the kitchen. “This is it.”
He flipped on the light and peered down into the dark dank hole. “Uh huh,” he said as he disappeared down the stairs. The realtor followed down behind him.
It was the worst sort of basement, dark corners, only one sliver of a window, musty, dead.
He toed the dirt floor and it gave way under his boot. “Sold.”
From Guest Contributor Darci McIntyre
Mar
Bankruptcy
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The company declared bankruptcy this morning. Everyone is in shock. No-one saw it coming.
Overnight the company’s liquid assets vanished. No-one seems to know why or how.
In a numb state, I work as quickly as possible preparing the forms and statements the incoming Liquidator will require. My heart is not in it.
The Directors need to sign the documents. I enter the Boardroom freely, the door isn’t locked.
The five directors are standing around the boardroom table. Each has a suitcase open on a chair beside him. The table creaks under the weight of the cash piled on it.
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry O’Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry’s stories have appeared in Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.
Dec
A Gift
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A man with similar looking bags hopped into my cab. He rudely declined my offer to help with his baggage. It was an hour’s drive. He went into a hotel. After the day’s work I went home. I saw a bag in the trunk. I recognized the bag. It was late, I hurried back to the hotel, described him at the desk. I knocked at his door. He was surprised to see me holding his bag. He thanked me for the honesty, offered a token of appreciation. I declined. The awkward look on his face was itself a memorable reward.
From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.
Nov
On A Rainy Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Twenty years of door keeping had taught me not to be late to work. I started early on a rainy day. Just round the corner, I saw this puppy wet to the bone. I took him home, dried, fed, cuddled and put him in cozy box. I rushed to my work a good thirty minutes late. The big man called me in, fired me from service. I went back home.
Honest loving pair of eyes greeted me with joy. Twenty minutes care had raked such love in him, I felt, my twenty years of service just went down the drain.
From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore