Posts Tagged ‘Envelope’
Jun
Mother Nature Always Wins
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
When you push the envelope, sometimes the envelope pushes back.
The architects and the engineers were certain that their calculations were correct. The bridge would save time and effort when driving across the sound. The financing was in place after years of wrangling. The bridge was inaugurated with great fanfare.
The Williwaw was the locals’ name for the wind that came from the north. High winds were not unusual, and the designers of the bridge had accounted for them. Mother Nature didn’t know the words “vortex shedding” or “aeroelastic flutter.” But she didn’t need words, she just needed the wind.
From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius
Apr
Courage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
“Can I help you?”
“I…I just need a stamp, please.” he stammers, tapping his envelope on the counter. “Do…do you have anything interesting?”
“Not in singles.” She crinkles her nose, mirroring his disappointment. “A Purple Heart?”
“Perfect.”
His quarter and her first-class stamp exchange hands.
“Front box picks up at five. Still time to get that in today’s mail.”
At the door, he affixes the stamp and writes out the address. He retrieves the long-carried letter that starts ‘Dear…Mom?’ and tucks it inside. He seals it, takes a deeper breath, and passes the letter through the slot.
From Guest Contributor Scott Burnam
Apr
The World Is Nothing But Chaos And Entropy
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Brian stared at the devastation. Where once stood his immaculately kept garage, packed with 45-years worth of careful philatelic curation, was a skeletal frame and mound of black cinders. His eye would be diverted by what momentarily struck him as an envelope floating on the breeze, but turned out was nothing but ash.
His wife attempted consoling him. Imagine the insurance payout! But his devotion had never been about money. Only now, staring at the remains of his life’s work, did he truly understand his need for the comfort of a well-aligned stamp in a world of chaos and entropy.
May
The Final Letter
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Thelma raced to the door when she heard the clang of the mailbox. She looked forward to the mail. It gave her hope on these bleak days. Only one envelope today. It was from PFC Herman Davis, dated July 14, 1944.
She ran back in the house, her hands shaking. The screen door bounced closed behind her. “Jesse, Jesse,” she called for her husband. It was too soon. She just buried Freeman last week.
“What’s wrong,” Jesse asked.
“Here, here,” she said handing him the envelope.
Jesse instantly knew what it was. This was Freeman’s last letter before he died.
From Guest Contributor David W. Cofer
Feb
Brothers In Arms
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
‘You used my envelope,’ Cian stated
‘You weren’t using it!’ his brother Padraic replied.
‘It’s my fecking envelope.’
‘There’s a draw full of envelopes!’
‘I wanted that one,’
‘It sat on the kitchen table two weeks and you didn’t touch it you fucker ya!’
‘But I was going to and I paid for the feckin’ thing!’ Cian yelled, whilst swigging some Paddy’s.
‘I’ll give you the money,’
‘I don’t want the feckin’ money, I want me envelope back.’
‘It’s gone now use one of the others!’
‘Bollocks to this shite, I’m going on the feckin’ Beer!’
‘Well feck off then….’
From Guest Contributor Valkyrie Kerry Kelly
Nov
Red Tape Mania
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
James scooped mail, spinning the wheelchair precipitously for the turn, a big grin on his face. Wheels clattered on tiles as he righted.
“I would have got those. Those stunts–”
Envelopes in lap, the veteran mock-pouted. “Self-entertainment. Can’t just wait to die, honey. Adapt and move on. I was thinking of entering the Paralympics.”
Tanya sighed noisily. The smile she sought to force died at the sight of his expression. His hand still gripped an open letter and envelope.
“What?”
“Remember the Disability Benefit reappraisal?”
“Ye-aah?”
“Seems they reckon loss of limbs and Kidney Impact Syndrome don’t–”
Pages…
Floor-ward…
“JAMES!”
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Oct
The Bundle
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He’d always seen the precious bundle as his passport to validation, his means to assuage all the failures of the past. He sought to learn from the wisdom of its sometimes harsh words. It was only two years old, light enough yet to cradle in his arms until he fell asleep in his chair, teary-eyed, yet hopeful.
Each morning there would be either little to feed it, or surfeit enough for an unsightly spurt of growth. It all depended on the postman.
A particularly cruel epithet from an envelope’s maw tipped the scales.
The bundle helps the dry leaves burn.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jul
Eyes Everywhere
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The woman limped slowly down the street, a pained look on her face, looked twice, and dropped an envelope inside a mail drop box. She felt a vibration in her pocket, checked her phone, and promptly gave a one-finger salute to the overhead sun.
Incoming Text 2:34PM: At 2:32PM, Sheila George took Orwell Street, favoring her left leg from a prior injury. At post office drop box #019840 deposited a letter addressed to her mother, Ann George. Contents are to be determined.
Incoming Text 2:36PM: Obscene gestures made to Patriot Security Surveillance Devices will result in a fine of $200.
From Guest Contributor Matt Turner
Feb
An Invitation
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
As Tom flipped through his mail, he hesitated when he came to a thick parchment envelope, intricately addressed with gold trim. This was certainly not a bill.
Breaking open the wax seal, Tom pulled forth a hand-inked letter in an elegant cursive, with the type of curls that indicated a tremendous sense of self-worth.
“Dear Thomas Pendergraph,” the letter began, “Your presence is requested in the royal palace on the fifth of December…”
Tom scanned to the bottom of the correspondence. It was signed by the Emperor.
He tossed the letter into the trash bin with the other junk mail.