Posts Tagged ‘Driver’
Jan
On A Bus
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
78-year-old Frieda tried to maintain balance while holding her bags. No one offered to exchange places, never mind looked up from a cell phone.
“People used to give an old person a seat,” said Frieda out loud.
A seat? The young driver had seen nothing like that in his experience. “Sit here for a minute,” he offered.
* * * * *
A few blocks after Frieda had driven erratically, a policeman signaled the bus over.
“Enough,” he demanded, tired of her playing on the sympathy of young drivers to gratify her bus-driving-desires. Enough with the previous warnings. He never trusted little old ladies anyway.
From Guest Contributor David Sydney
Feb
Freedom Of Expression
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Their art combined gibberish with colour. Exterior walls and street recycling receptacles became graphic spectacles.
“Let’s see you join us,” they demanded.
“It’s wrong to deface public property,” I replied.
When a recycling truck rolled in, frustration of the driver as to not being able to do his pickup job landed them at the school office. The self-appointed artists got suspended from class and were ordered to remove their creations.
“Did you take part in that graffiti?” Dad asked.
“No, I only watched,” I answered, careful to not disclose that they asked me for my artistic advice and I obliged.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She
resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals and
many friends.
Dec
Listening To Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong On Repeat
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
David waited at the red light. He scratched at his scalp as the skin peeled away.
Diane wrapped the glassware in last Sunday’s edition of the Times. She remembered having to nag David for months before he wrote those thank you notes.
David cursed so that the driver next to him turned and offered a look. He stared straight ahead and debated offering an apology.
Diane loaded the last of the boxes into the trailer. Her father offered a hug that she refused.
David pulled into the driveway, turned off the ignition, and cried.
Diane watched the landscape blur by.
This is post number 1,111. Thank you to every one who has read one of these stories or contributed one of their own.
Oct
Deadly Hour
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
John, riding down the dark empty road at three o’clock in the morning, takes a swig of beer.
“I can’t believe Amy is marrying that jerk! She said she loved me. That lying witch!”
Inebriated, he swerves in and out of lanes, his vision blurry. He presses on the accelerator just missing an approaching car. The driver honks his horn profusely at Johnny. Laughing, Johnny takes his eyes off the road and crashes head on into a tree.
Lying dead with his head on the steering wheel and his thumb pressing on Amy’s cell number, the phone begins to dial.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Delhi Rape Case
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Cell 1: Driver. Charged with rape and murder. Known as “mental/alcoholic.”
Escaped punishment by suicide.
Cell 2: Brother of driver. Charged with same. Kept in solitary confinement after assault from inmates.
Hung to death.
Cell 3: Gym instructor. Guilty of kidnapping, robbery, rape, murder.
Death sentence.
Cell 4: Fruit Seller. Guilty of “rarest of rare.” Raped so hard; intestines bled.
Death penalty; followed by cheering by crowd.
Cell 5: Unemployed man; commits atrocities to pass time and have a laugh.
Death penalty.
Cell 6: Minor. Charged with rape and immense body mutilation.
Tried as juvenile. 3-year sentence.
Fuck Justice.
From Guest Contributor Suhasini Patni
Suhasini is a second year undergraduate at Ashoka University, in India, studying English literature. She has previously published a book review in The Tishman Review and a micro-fiction piece with A Quiet Courage, and hopes to publish many more. She is new to the publishing world but loves to write.