Posts Tagged ‘Father’


Library Literate

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was the kid who sparkled when they walked in the door. The bookish brat who would make her father chuckle while balancing a mountain of literature above her head.

There, I discovered the internet’s secrets. Every minute on their computer spent in obsession.

My friends and I chattered like hens between the book shelves. We scavenged through comics like vultures through the teenage fiction.

I read novellas under the summer sun. I ate my lunches before memorial statues.

Every trip was coming home and every inch towards the door was a step back in time.

Until it was gone.

From Guest Contributor Alexandra Sullivan


Drowning Memories

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Alex listened to the waves crashing against the shoreline while seagulls flew above, searching for prey. The sun beamed on his face and he wished he had worn a hat.

He walked the beach, the hot sand stinging his toes. Boats sailed in the distance and he wondered what it would feel like to be free of land, but that thought dissipated. His mind shifted to when he almost drowned and his father pulled him from the water shouting his name, punching his chest until he spit up.

His father was now the one drowning, of a disease called cancer.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher


In The Spirit Of Amusement

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Amusement Park. Strange name. Bet there are more unamused adults than young children. Heard Uncle Max scream. Saw him vomit on the Ferris Wheel, again. After he said he couldn’t stomach it. Cousins bashed themselves manoeuvring bumper cars. Their dads were not amused. Neither was the ride operator. Too much cotton candy caused my sweet tooth to sour at the dentist’s. We tried the Swing Carousel. I sat with Dad. The swing in front of us was empty. Would’ve been filled if the father of a toddler didn’t have a tantrum. They relocated at the merry-go-round. I preferred the Pendulum.

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.


His Girl

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He returned to their place, behind a shrub. Where they as teenagers
watched practitioners exit a church. Where he kissed away her tears
after her father walked out, showering affection on a stranger.

She, the girl he played tag with in childhood. The one he dated
through high school. The one he wrote to after he moved out of the
city, and her letters stopped abruptly.

He watched between raindrops clinging to leafless branches. She exited
the church on the arm of another man. Wedding procession followed.

Rainstorm may have passed, but the storm in his mind had only intensified.

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.


Last Days Of Summer

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Charles Delany stepped off the horse and buggy. In front of him a white
shingled wood house with a porch, surrounded by an abundance of trees,
overlooked the ocean. He removed his hat and walked slowly up the
pathway to the porch. He sat on the wooden bench and took it all in,
listening to the waves slapping against the fishing dock.

“Okay, son, this’ll be your home for the summer. The doctor said the
fresh air and trees are good for your condition.”

Charles nodded and when his father walked away, he coughed clumps of red
into his handkerchief.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher


Perhaps Just An Innocent Woman

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Maybe they were tears or could be a shining in the eye. He was weak and had a fragile walk, while waving at his daughter. His ex-wife looked on with a miffed face. Her long-time affair waited for her, across the road in his Ferrari. She pushed her daughter towards the car. The poor child kept on looking at her father till her last gaze. Both of them separated by destiny and bound out of pure love. She was a gold digger and he a humble professor. Why didn’t he give her some life lessons? She looked deprived of learning.

From Guest Contributor Manmeet Chadha



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I smell the turkey as my father carves each slice delicately. My
mother’s homemade mashed potatoes steaming, the butter melting down onto
my dish, makes my mouth water.

We can’t touch our food until the turkey is on the dish and the
Thanksgiving prayer has been said.

My younger brother squirms in his seat waiting to shovel stuffing into
his mouth.

“Okay, the turkey is carved,” my father says and clasps his hands
together and begins the prayer.

It’s not the food I realize that makes me happy. It’s the faces
surrounding me at this table that I’m thankful for.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher



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


Calypso: Bright-Eyed Goddess

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Unknown amongst them,
she sits; awe and wonder.
Blazing eyes searching,
surrounded, glorious banquet,
wondering of the occasion.
‘Where is your father?’
Calypso forbidden his return!
Wanting the strong man herself,
locked away, a vaulted cave;
awaiting his love.

Prisoner of the Nymph’s love.
‘I actually heard he was home!’
The gods, it seemed, had sinister plans.
Not returned from battle,
vanished, Never to be seen again.

‘What is the meaning of this banquet?’
Men of Troy had heard of the banishment,
their behavior animalistic.
Seeking the love of the ‘widow,’
leaving the son belittled,
doomed to an inglorious future.

From Guest Contributor Melissa Land


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