Posts Tagged ‘Family’
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
Jul
River Of Memories
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Fishel sent his wife and two boys away even though Adella insisted they stay until his fever broke. He wouldn’t hear of it. The “Wolves” could arrive at any moment, and he didn’t want to risk his family.
Fishel’s temperature raged, and he became delirious, his wife a constant vision. Too weak to travel, he went to bed, fell into a deep slumber, and dreamt of his family.
Stomping and yelling awakened him from his pleasant dream.
Four Nazi’s burst through the door, guns pointed at Fishel’s face.
“Get up Jew.”
He obeyed and left a river of memories behind.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
The Price Of Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The ozone scent of the ocean reminds me how much I have sacrificed to be here: friends, family, home, heritage.
Was it worth it? Most days, yes, but on black days – every step painful – I find myself back before the water.
Mother warned me. But I knew better. “You don’t choose who you fall for.”
“Mark my words, no good came of such a union.”
I brushed it aside – another of her fables.
He is a devoted husband, but he cannot bridge the loneliness.
I lose myself in the roaring of the waves: a world I can no longer enter.
From Guest Contributor Iqbal Hussain
Feb
Host
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I have chips and salsa ready for when the family arrives for Super Bowl Sunday.
The last time I hosted, I ran out of snacks and had to drive to the convenience store to stock up. I missed the most important play of the game and it’s not the same watching it on DVR.
They’re coming up the driveway.
I go to get the beer and my refrigerator sticks. I have to yank it and all the beer bottles fall, break, and spill on the floor.
Looks like I’ll be heading to the store and watching the game on DVR.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Disruptions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
People, she thought, were like gadgets. They could be tucked away neatly into white boxes, each waiting to fulfill their role. Friends, family, coworkers—they each had their own purpose in her life, and she never let them stray. Few coworkers ever became friends, and even fewer friends became family. Nobody crossed the inner circles of her life without her permission. And then, there was him. The glitter explosion that disrupted her perfect life, bringing just a little mess with him, wherever he went. She now carried that intoxicating aura as it radiated from her chest in amber waves: Bull’s-eye.
From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott
Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her masters degree in English as well. Her work has been published in Entropy Squared, The Dribble Drabble Review’s Spring 2021 issue, and Otoliths in February 2021.
Aug
Flash Bang Boom
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
With the encouragement of family and friends, I adopted a retired bomb-sniffing dog. I called him “Flash” – after the flashing lights of a migraine, I would joke to anyone who asked. One day he discovered under the couch a severed doll’s head I didn’t even know I had. Next the piano stopped producing sounds when I sat down to play it. Then the tree outside my window appeared suspended like an astronaut in space. Now I often catch the dog lying on the couch studying me with cold, squinty eyes as if calculating exactly how much a person can bear.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of THE DEATH ROW SHUFFLE, a poetry collection forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.
Apr
God Bless America
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
He was met by his family at the Orlando airport after 12 long months of active duty.
Captain Steven Hooks was a free man. Now that the Army didn’t need him anymore, he could get back to being a husband and a father and re-open his dental practice.
Gloria, his wife, suggested a movie for his first night home. They gave the kids baths, dressed them in cozy pajamas, and loaded them into the station wagon.
Upon arriving at the booth he handed the cashier the money but she wouldn’t take it.
“Sorry, but this drive-in is for whites only.”
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
E. has works published at Entropy, Spillwords, The Purple Pen, The Haven, and several works are in the anthology, “NanoNightmares.”
Apr
Easter Sunday
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Through the window, the sun beams against my face. It’s Easter Sunday and the family will be arriving this evening. I haven’t seen my cousins since the Covid-19 quarantine and we’re all nervous. Do we need to wear masks to avoid breathing on each other, I wonder? We didn’t discuss it, so my husband and I will take our chances.
The food is prepared and cooking on the stove. The lamb and spices fill the room with a delectable aroma and I’m leaning against the counter sipping wine.
I drop my glass when the doorbell rings. I can’t do it.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
His Plant
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The only thing left of him was the plant. They’d taken everything else. Emptied every cupboard. Every last scrap. It’s their right, of course. They’re family. Me, just a roommate. As far as they knew, anyway. A roommate. Maybe a friend. Nothing more, surely. No reason to think otherwise.
There in the kitchen windowsill, his plant. Thin, green and white. Spidery. They hadn’t known it was his. I didn’t tell them. I’ll keep it alive now that he can’t. I’m no good at that, but I’ll learn. I have to.
Keep it alive. Keep him alive, by my side.
Forever.
From Guest Contributor Louise Snape
Louise is a speculative fiction writer of Dutch and French origin and a graduate of Oxford Brookes University’s MA in Creative Writing. She dabbles in poetry, short fiction, and is currently working on writing her first YA fantasy novel.
Mar
This Message Cannot Be Delivered
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Old friends’ emails become inactive, enveloped by electronic monsters. My message cannot be delivered, electronic gatekeepers proclaim.
I can’t tell them of being alone. I can’t hear their off-color jokes about paraplegics and suicide, youth at its most delightfully stupid. Tell them of empty, sterile walls. I can’t confess I absorbed their stories of family, an electronic voyeur.
I keep trying. Messages come back.
I drive to distant homes. But staring through lit windows, I feel like a magazine, an obnoxious knickknack among order and precision. I imagine them discarding jokes, smiles replaced by starched replicas.
This message isn’t delivered.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His story, “Soon,” was nominated for a Pushcart. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, 50 Word Stories, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.