Posts Tagged ‘Friend’
Apr
Death Sentence
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Stay,” I commanded, my palm facing him.
He dropped to his belly, those big brown eyes looking up at me. Our gaze hung for a moment, lovingly. He was my only friend, and I, his only master.
I grabbed the package and headed to the meeting point. That’s when I heard the sirens. Four years for distribution, the judge decided, as it was my first offense. It would have been life if they’d found the warehouse.
Four years tougher, I returned. There, just as I left him, was Julian. Emaciated and still. The most loyal gimp I ever did have.
From Guest Contributor Liam Kerry
Apr
The Boat
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Queenie was a friend of mine. I went to visit one weekend. Her husband was there but I didn’t get to see him much because he was “busy working on the boat.”
He was working in the garden. I went out to say hello but he was silent and went on with the work.
We had a meal, just the two of us. Queenie was used to dining alone.
When we heard that the boat had sunk on its first voyage, there was a certain amount of hilarity. He had escaped with his life. The devil looks after his own.
From Guest Contributor Derek McMillan
Derek is the writer of “Murder from Beyond the Grave” available on eBay.
Mar
Limits
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
This can only last so long. There’s stuff I have to do. I gotta catch up on work and go for a run still today. I have papers due by midnight and I just put a pizza in the oven. I don’t have time for this. My friend keeps texting me “get on the game.” This can only last so long. I’m organizing due dates, scheduling movie nights with friends and stuttering replies to my mother. This can only last so long. My phone lights up with her face again, but like this poem love can only last so long.
From Guest Contributor Anonymous
I’d prefer to remain anonymous however I’d like to say a little about myself. I am not a writer but a teenage kid trying to graduate. I enjoy thinking deeply and taking the chance to put my thoughts on a page in a creative writing class is nice.
Feb
Ice Pond
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I stepped outside onto the cold snow-covered sidewalk, I remembered my childhood in Maine.
“Hurry, Artie!” My sister, Clara, bellowed from across the ice pond.
My friend Eric couldn’t keep up, and I quickly sped past him, my hands raised in victory. Eric sighed and skated away, having had enough.
Clara clapped and then glided toward me. Suddenly there was a crackling sound and a scream. Clara fell through the ice, hands flailing, eyes fearful. I tried to get to her, but people pulled me back and said I’d fall too. Then there was silence.
I never skated again.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Feb
Interview
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind.
I hadn’t been interviewed in years and now older, I didn’t know what my chances were of getting hired. My friend recommended me to the department head, and I hoped that would get my foot in the door.
I had my briefcase in hand with an excellent portfolio and references. What more would they want?
I opened the door and entered the office only to be told by the receptionist that the manager had an emergency and I’d have to come back another day.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Spooky Halloween
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Rob dons his skeleton mask and goes out the front door to his car.
The trick or treaters fill the streets with laughter, while parents keep a watchful eye on them. Rob slowly drives through the crowds as the night sky darkens the roads and he struggles to see, not wanting to remove his mask.
Finally, he arrives.
In the back seat, Rob pulls a lifelike toy out from underneath a blanket.
His friend Tim is going to get the best spooky Halloween prank of his life.
Inside Tim has a water bucket hanging over the door waiting for Rob.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Work
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
At first, I kept my distance, suspicious of my new colleague. They had replaced my good friend Jen, which had left me bitter. I know that wasn’t his fault, but still.
After they’d been with the company for three months my stance started to soften. He started to sound like the rest of us.
He complained of no autonomy. The cramped working conditions. Management being clueless and disorganized. Finally, he ranted about the microwave smelling and dirty dishes piled high.
Looking back I don’t know what all the fuss was about. It turns out the androids are just like us.
From Guest Contributor Wendy Cooper
Wendy was born and raised in England but now resides in Vancouver, BC. Wendy is autistic and co-founder of the Autistic Writers’ Group. Wendy placed third in the Women on Writing Spring 2023 Flash Fiction competition.
Sep
Headache
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m having trouble concentrating and so I close my novel with a thump. Then I curse, having had a headache for several days that I can’t get rid of. On the coffee table there are piles of bills that I haven’t paid in months. Hence the headache.
My dog Charlie cuddles beside me and rolls over for a stomach rub. Sadly, he’s my only true friend.
“Hey, boy, thanks for always being around.”
I get up to take two aspirins when the phone rings. What I hear on the other end worsens the migraine.
I’ve been evicted from my apartment.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Dr. Marks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dr. Marks observes Tommy. “How are you feeling?”
Tommy fidgets. “Okay.”
Dr. Marks writes on her pad and then looks at Tommy again. “Tell me about your friend Sal.”
“He stands up for me when the other kids are mean. Isn’t that right, Sal?” Tommy turns to the empty chair next to him.
“Tommy, was Sal there when Charlie took your lunch?”
“Yeah, he hit him with his history book.”
Dr. Marks writes more notes.
“Tommy, you’re going to be staying here for a while.
“Me and Sal?”
Dr. Marks places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yes, you and Sal.”
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Last Breath
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My heart aches when I look at the faded photo of my wife. I place it back in my pocket and lean over the trench, rifle in position.
The tanks approach and deep down I know it’s an impossible situation, but I run onto the field shooting, the tanks firing back, hitting me, and my body thrown midair.
Charles, my friend, pulls me into a ditch and I manage to gesture to my pants pocket. Charles reaches in and pulls out the picture and hands it to me.
With the photo clutched to my chest, I take my last breath.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher