Posts Tagged ‘Friends’

5
Feb

The Gift

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Today the mailman came with a special delivery package. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and bore no return address. I was required to sign for it, which I did, and watched the mailman jump in an unmarked black van and speed away. I took the box inside and set it on the kitchen island. I wondered who might have sent it. I have no friends or family. It’s a peaceful life. Then I heard the screaming—a man’s screaming. Hard to make out at first, but once you keyed into it, you couldn’t stop hearing it for anything.  

From Guest Contributor Meeah Williams

15
Jan

She’s Done Crying

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

She wasn’t crying today. First day in years. All dolled up with makeup and wearing her fanciest dress, she was going somewhere. And she looked good, so good, that even her children smiled a little. Friends had been expecting this, and some stopped to see her. Daniel wasn’t there. He never was. His love for her was long gone. After being gone for fifteen years, even the kids didn’t care about him anymore.

It was time. A loud thump signaled the end. The latches sealed and locked the casket closed. The finality of it was unmistakable. She was done crying.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

4
Oct

The Longest Honeymoon

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Their friends joked they were going to have the longest engagement ever. Others whispered the wedding was never going to happen. This seemed to bother Sophia even less than it bothered Gabriel. They were both extremely happy the way things were.

The wedding had become something they almost never talked about, only when their parents brought it up. These moments occurred less and less frequently as it became obvious Gabriel and Sophia weren’t interested. The suspicion became that one or both of them was getting cold feet.

Everyone was wrong. This wasn’t the longest engagement. It was the longest honeymoon.

16
Nov

Perfectionist

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

After his mother, it was his wife’s turn to chide him for his lethargy. Only a few of his good friends knew him to be a perfectionist. ‘You take a year to complete a chore’ was the common refrain muttered by his wife. His sweet talk on any given day always ended in a tiff. His wife, who envied the life of a butterfly, was fed up with him.

Unfortunately, he died suddenly of a heart attack.

A year later, in a drunken brawl, certain words slipped from two men, which led to the arrest of his wife for murder.

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore

24
Aug

The House On The Hill

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

As the floodwaters receded, Thompson entered what used to be his home. The structure had once stood proud at the top of the hill. Now it was in shambles, the storm having carried it off its foundations and depositing it several hundred yards away.

With stooped shoulders, Thompson shifted through the remains. His friends would say he should count himself lucky that anything survived at all. At least he was alive. But it was hard to think that way with Jessie’s waterlogged doll in his hands. He was not one of those parents who looked at their children as disposable.

7
Jul

A Special Bond

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I’m sitting on the couch with Lucy on my lap and Breanna running laps around the living room. My Shih-Tzus, my furry friends.

Lucy is older than Breanna, but smaller. She stands her ground when Breanna gets out of line with a fierce growl. Breanna plays with every toy, while Lucy enjoys curling up on my lap or turning over for a stomach rub.

Breanna is in constant motion. When her batteries finally run out, she plops down, wags her golden tail and Lucy watches on with her big brown eyes.

I love them. My furry friends, my furry daughters.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

3
Jul

At The Lake

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Sitting in the sun with her friends at the lake, she hoped for Cannon Stevens to notice her, she hoped her mother wouldn’t notice her tan line, and she hoped she didn’t get burned.

Water hit her legs and she jumped up and ran towards Cannon who stood laughing in the shallows. Scooping water up with her hands, she splashed him and he grabbed her hands, his laugh turning into a silly grin.

That night, her mom flipped, “Bikini lines! Not on my daughter!”

Aloe couldn’t heal the cigarette burns on her stomach.

The lake water and Cannon’s touch did.

From Guest Contributor Tyrean Martinson

Tyrean is a daydreamer, believer, and writer who lives in the Northwest.

29
Mar

The Last Call Before A Trek

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He woke up early that Sunday morning excited to go on a trek. His friends had been calling since morning, planning the route, discussing apparel. He was enthusiastic. It was a perfect getaway from the usual day-to-day stress. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, and serenity!

Last night had been disastrous. His wife was not satisfied with their sex life. She was adventurous and experienced. He had made bad decisions at work. To top it all off, he’d brawled with a friend.

He was about to leave when his phone rang. His ex-girlfriend said, “I love you”. He skipped the trek.

From Guest Contributor Manmeet Chadha

Manmeet is an Alumunus from the London School of Economics & Political Science. He works in India as an Economist & Writer.

15
Mar

Hindsight

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Debbie got high last night.

Her conscience weighed on her, but not enough to refuse her friends. There was no explicit peer pressure. Rather, not joining in would have meant that she’d forever be considered apart from them..

Once the high came on, her reservations disappeared. It was the best decision she’d ever made.

Twelve hours later, lying in bed as the guilt tries to set in along with the nausea, she’s no longer so sure. Hindsight suggests getting high was a mistake.

Debbie remembers kissing Eric Bradshaw and decides that no one listens to hindsight. No one cool anyway.

18
Jan

In Darkness…Light

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I helped move your walker over the curb. You listened as I shared my emotional grief. We became friends.

One day I drove to meet you. Snow fell in sheets. The unknown lurked beneath. I swerved, stopped. Not far, the lake within walking distance.

Cabins sent curls of wood stove smoke into late autumn air. I would see yours with a candle at the window and you behind, waiting for me.

Years passed. With them storms I couldn’t control. Passing of friendships, from start to finish. Even ours. Candles lit. Extinguished.

I read your obituary. Memories touched with an afterglow.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.