Posts Tagged ‘Face’

15
Oct

The Eve Before Halloween

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The eve before Halloween I visit Melissa’s gravesite and place a
bouquet of yellow roses against her stone. She’d be thirty years old
today. The cemetery is empty, and the rain is cold against my face, but
I am here.

“Hi, Sweetie. In honor of your favorite holiday, I’m having a Halloween
party and celebrating your birthday tomorrow. I wish you could be here,”
I say, tearing. I walk to my car briskly, the umbrella inside out from
the wind.

The rain becomes heavy and when I drive off, the petals of the roses
blow in front of my car.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

17
Aug

Futile Gestures

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Leslie struck at the hand as it approached her face.

“Don’t touch me.”

“There’s a leaf in your hair.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Steven remembered when they cared for each other. He’d cook dinner on nights she got home late. She packed a lunch when he had fieldwork, a chocolate bar hidden at the bottom of the bag.

Those thoughtful gestures became less frequent as the fights occurred more often. She perceived every request as an assault on her freedom. She likely had her own side, but he’d stopped caring long ago.

Steven walked away without another word.

5
Jun

Unexpected

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Lucy turned up the car radio. It was their song and it reminded her of his soft touch on her body and the warmth of his breath on her face. Jim was taken too soon from an unexpected illness and the pain jabbed at her heart. She longed to hear his laughter and see his big dimples. His family didn’t approve of their relationship. She was older, divorced and not Catholic. But they were in love.

Lucy drove up the driveway and rubbed her stomach. How would she tell a family that disliked her that Jim would’ve been a father?

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

4
Jun

The Man On The Stair

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It wanted my attention!

An icy breath of air hit me in the face, whispering something in my left ear.

I looked up at the staircase, narrow and active, only to see its black hair dangling over the banister, and its face blank.

I froze yet was intrigued.

Am I going mad?

I called out to it, “Who are you?”

Then it was gone.

I started to think it was the same thing that “pushed” the towels off the banister, even damp ones!

I called him “the towel man.”

I am a “skeptic on the turn,” although he’s long gone.

From Guest Contributor Tanya Fillbrook

28
Mar

Folded Flag

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

She stood in the snow holding a single white carnation facing the cold wall of names. She whispered, turning to the man beside her, “Sir, do you host other events here?”

The man nodded, gently replying, “Would you like to book a reservation for one?”

“Yes, a wedding. But the groom resides here.” She placed the carnation on the ground and caressed the engraved words before her. Evan Perry.

“Not a problem.” He whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“He said he’d come back.” Soon the tears she had held back then flowed down her face, “I’ve been waiting.”

From Guest Contributor Jasmine Som

As a paleo-vegan, Jasmine loves dehydrating fruits to take with her when she hikes. While others stalk celebrities, she looks up new recipes to get creative with. Sadly, cooking with her heavy cast iron pots has her taking on a new workout routine that includes a weight lifting regimen.

16
Feb

Surfing

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He enviously watched the surfers ride the waves. Their sharp turns and steady footing made him feel shame at this own failed attempt on the water.

A small boy of no older than twelve maneuvered gracefully on a wave that would have had him running for the safety of the beach. A group of people enthusiastically cheered and clapped for the boy, who had a large grin on his face and pumped his fist in the air.

He watched this for a moment before angrily getting up from the sand and walking away vowing to get back on his board.

From Guest Contributor Zane Castillo

7
Feb

Lipstick Car Wreck

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Finally alone, you open your coat in the snow
Revealing the soft hum of your pilot light
Living, walking to the water’s edge
To pray for river’s cleanse
the water is polluted with reflection
So you run, you always do, into an idle
car on the street outside
Of where you need to be, you’ve circled around
3 times already (you’re not getting any more inside)
and drive, flood down the avenue to the last bridge
Left erect from burned out comings-alive
switch, from automatic to manual
Stop self-correcting let it careen
A smile like wreckage smears across your face

From Guest Contributor Wyatt Martin

22
Jan

My Proudest Moment

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The river was calm, and the fish were biting. I wouldn’t dare tell my father I hated fishing. It was our time together. I watched as he baited his hook and threw it into the water.

“Isn’t this nice, Son. I really enjoy our time together.”

“Me too, Dad.”

I swung my rod into the water and within minutes I got a bite.

“Reel it in, Son. That’s it. What a catch! That’s a big fish you got there.”

I looked at my Dad and his face was beaming.

I’d always remember how proud he was of me that day.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

21
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

24
Oct

Sam

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Sam was a contradiction. He wore shirts partially tucked in with socks often mismatched. His hair combed in glossy strokes.

He tiptoed to his office cubicle ignoring everyone. They ignored him. Except for Anne who monitored his quota. It must’ve been adequate for he continued to pass me at the reception desk.

One day, I didn’t notice the scent of his signature aftershave. Nor saw his forlorn face staring at the patterned floor as he entered.

A radio news feature announced him as a “person of interest.” Missing. His apartment trashed.

Suddenly, everyone at the office became interested in Sam.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.