Posts Tagged ‘Family’
Dec
Thanksgiving
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Thanksgiving, a time to spend with family. The turkey is in the oven filled with my famous bread stuffing, the pumpkin pie is cooling, and the vegetables are ready to go.
I sip wine and watch the parade waiting for my company. It’s half past 4 o’clock. I told everyone to be here over an hour ago for anti-pasta.
My cell phone rings.
“Hey, Myra, sorry, but we all came down with the stomach flu. We’re not going to make it this year. Hopefully, we’ll see you at Christmas.”
I pack up my dinner and take it to a shelter.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Live
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The Fuhrer took everything. My husband, two sons, and our home that had been in the family for years. I’m all that’s left. The war is over, but who and what do I have to go back to. I lived through the filth and disease when everyone else was dying and there had been nothing I could do.
When the Americans arrived and liberated the camps, I fell to my knees and wept. I couldn’t believe it was over.
It’s tragic and my heart aches every-day, but I will continue to live, if not for myself then for my family.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book, Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published, and The Importance of Being Short in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.
She currently resides on Long Island, New York with her husband Richard and dogs Lucy and Breanna.
Sep
Family Matters
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Hola! Anyone inside?”
There were no smells of frying chicken or beans being reheated.
“It’s your Tito,” the elderly man continued.
Someone arrived to sit at one of the picnic tables nearby.
“Ran into your madre. Said you bought a food truck. Set up in my end of town. Sorry your restaurant closed down. Covid’s a beast.”
He shuffled around the vehicle, returning to the truck’s open window.
“Still angry? Not my fault your parents split up.”
The truck’s door opened and a lean young man stepped out.
“Na, not angry, gramps. Now what would you like for lunch today?”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction regardless of the season, although she prefers spring.
Sep
The Little Things
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Tiny micro explosions, one after another, lit up the night sky in a cascading array of magentas, periwinkles and mulberry, accented by warm yellows and golds, a momentary distraction utilizing everything that is beautiful living inside the fire. Even the soulless ones, with clouded empty eyes, were taken aback as their heads tilted towards the heavens unblinkingly.
The degradation of pathways in their once human brains would soon enjoy their form of pyro techniques as neurons started firing once more. Reminding them that we were now their food source while simultaneously forgetting that once we would call each other family.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Jul
Preparing For Landing
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Do we have to visit them?” the eight-year-old asked. “Grandma is weird and…”
“Grandpa is mean,” added her older brother.
Elsa observed the linear perfection of farmland below, largely ignoring her children.
At their age, she rode a tractor alongside her grandfather. They made rows into which other tractors dropped seed potatoes and covered them with soil.
By summer, when Elsa returned from the city, those fields were lush green having absorbed spring rainfalls.
As the plane prepared for landing, she knew her children would experience a different summer vacation.
The farm was no longer a property her family owned.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction regardless of the season, although she prefers spring.
Apr
Rubble
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The ruler of the rubble sits at the end of a table that reaches around the world. Who will live to see his reign unravel? The babies, who grow up somewhere else? Will they return middle aged, full of stories from their broken parents, and older brothers and sisters who went to school in their own country, saluted their own flag, played in the sea that belonged to everyone? Surely they will come, full of sadness and anger, looking for remnants of family left behind. Grownups, who pick up handfuls of rubble and say, this used to be my home.
From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe
Feb
Not Today
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sam’s touched up face, slicked brown hair and embalmed body, reminded me that he really was gone.
I sat in the front row as family and friends approached, the same words spoken repeatedly.
“We’re so sorry for your loss, Janny.”
The room filled with flowers, from bleeding hearts to white lilies gave an aroma of a florist rather than a wake.
The priest began to speak, and the room quieted, except for my weeping.
Cancer took my husband too early. He’ll never see his daughter graduate college.
Now I must break the news of my Parkinson’s disease. But not today.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
True Meaning
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
As a boy, I remember my dad telling me Christmas is about family and spending time together. Secondary, exchanging gifts.
My own children are opening their presents and their beaming faces light up the room. The Christmas tree is sparkling with silver tinsel and an angel at the top of the tree, its wings white and glowing. Decorations and food consume the house this time of year, the baked ziti’s sauce filling the air with a delicious aroma. But these delightful things are not what my children celebrate.
The birth of Jesus Christ is the reason we celebrate the holiday.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
In Pursuit Of Tomorrow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A young boy shaped sand sculptures. His parents combed the beach with a metal detector. When clouds rolled in, mother rose, balancing on the only leg spared in a shark attack.
Over driftwood, shells and rocks they trampled to reach the trail that would lead them to a road.
Father turned for one last glance of the abandoned tanker anchored by the coast. He had heard of buried treasures from at least a dozen ships in those turbulent waters.
As he imagined newly acquired wealth for his family, the sea tossed out a bottle. Nestled inside was a folded note.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction. She resides in Alberta, Canada.
Aug
Salvation
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I release the sewer grate and climb into the darkness, the stars my only light. I stay close to the alley in case German police scope the streets. My family is starving and out of the three of us, I’m the least weak to make the walk, even though I stumble from fatigue. We’re all in angst living in sewage, but we have no other option.
His figure is faint, but recognizable. He hands me the bag of potatoes and apologizes for not having enough, then kisses me passionately.
“Go now, my Sadie.”
Aron, my salvation in this wretched war.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher