Posts Tagged ‘God’



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

First little Amy was stricken, taking three days to die.

After collecting the body, the wardens painted the black cross on the door.

Then her husband and son Mark sickened. She could do nothing for their agonies.

A cart collected them to be buried in the pit.

Now the street is sealed off. No food arrives, and the water is almost gone.

She sneezes twice. She knows this is the end. But what is there to live for?

Thus the pauper Mary Wells died alone in London in 1665, with no priest to console her, no caring God above her.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He has had poems and short stories published in The Ekphrastic Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 A Literary Journal, Dead Snakes, Schlock! Webzine,, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, and in various anthologies.


La Piedra

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was once asked a question. In fact, it was the most important question in the history of the world.

The question was so immense that it should have been saved for God himself in the afterlife.

It covered love and hate and fact and fiction and everyone and everything at once.

Naturally, I wanted to answer, but my throat froze and my eyes turned to stone like those of a statue. If my heart throbbed, I wasn’t there enough to feel it.

Honestly, how’s a piece of shit like me supposed to know if everything happens for a reason?

From Guest Contributor Branko Tubic


Next Time

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Every time that bastard comes home, he sweet talks me and tells me things will be different and like a complete fool I take him back and then I get pregnant and he takes off again for a year or two.

I swear to God the next time he shows his face around here I’m going to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, knock him out long enough to pack a bag and clear out for a couple of years myself, leave him to take care of three kids with no help, see how he likes it.

From Guest Contributor Simon Hole


The Taxidermist

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He stuffed his victims, then mounted them on his wall. That’s why they referred to him as the Taxidermist. His arrest, and subsequent conviction, was thought to be the end. No juror would’ve signed off on an insanity plea. He was locked away and, by the time his appeals were exhausted and he finally met his fate, the story had become more legend than reality.

But he was more than just a serial killer. He wasn’t just preserving their skins, but also their souls. Now, with his death, those souls have been released. May God have mercy on us all.


Adam’s Apple

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Where did you hear that? She asked, blonde hair peek-a-boo covering her naked breasts.

“An emergency meeting of Seraphim and Cherubim. I was passing by and overheard,” he responded. “You’ve passed that tree a hundred times. The one with the single piece of fruit at the very top. It looks like an apple. ”

“And it’s supposed to have magical powers?”

“The fruit. That’s what He said.”

“Nobody can climb that tree,” she insisted.

“The snake could. He could slither up. You could persuade him,” he winked.

“As soon as I finish hemming these fig leaves,” she winked back.

From Guest Contributor Reynold Junker


Bumping Into An Old Friend

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Like a beacon of an unkind fate the bald pate shines where his pink Mohawk once grew.

“Punk’s not dead,” he drools, the two pints of Heineken having gone to his head, when back in the day it would have taken five, or eight.

“Yeah, the spirit lives on,” I lie to this ghost from my past sitting alone in the bar without any hope of a date.

“Another pint?” the zombie asks, but I don’t hesitate with the well, it’s getting late, been nice to catch up, thanking God for boring suburbs, wife and kids, the nine to five.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Ian studied English Literature at Oxford University many years ago. He has had short stories published in various genres in Schlock! Webzine, Schlock! Bi-Monthly,, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, and in anthologies by Horrified Press and Rogue Planet Press. He is an Affiliate Member of the Horror Writers Association.


Public Poems Built On Public Property

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Public poems built on public property are, as they say, asking for it. When you use such flimsy bread, eating away at holy Wonder until such thinly-sliced letters remain, every one meant to be swallowed, not whispered; when you hold them down with found rocks in a stream that is not a stream, just a concrete ditch void of the hand of God; when you slip out the window in the night like a Sufi thief or an idiot child, praying the wrong way, dancing naked, licking vowels in your own nonsense language
don’t expect to get anything

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

After graduating with a BA in English from Vassar College, Brook Bhagat landed her first paid writing job as a reporter for a small-town Colorado newspaper. She left it to travel to India, where she fell in love, got married and canceled her ticket home. She and her husband Gaurav write freelance articles for dozens of publications, including Outpost, Ecoworld, and Little India. In 2013, they launched, which she edits and writes for. She also teaches writing at a community college, is earning her MFA in Writing at Lindenwood University, and is writing a novel.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He felt he’d been travelling. Couldn’t be sure. His memory was as misty as the panorama. It looked like Kiev: all those domed churches. How would I know that? The question hung there, unspoken. The answer ignored it.

He looked down at shapely legs and high-heels. What the–

The world spun. Elise was a woman: always had been. The last thing she remembered was the headache at Lloyds. Oh God…work. Did I walk out?

She reached into her handbag. Passport, cash, credit cards…no tickets.

She determined to make a doctor’s appointment the minute she got home.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


12 And A Misstep

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

1. I admit I’ve no control over my wife.
2. It’ll take your expertise to reclaim my sanity.
3. I’m in your hands.
4. I’m just not capable.
5. I’m too easily manipulated.
6. Can you rebuild my self-worth?
7. I’ve listed all the friends I rebuffed for her sake.
8. Already made up with Jimmy.
9. I’ll be seeing the rest soon.
10. Jimmy pointed out a few faults I’d missed.
11. God, even now I’m faltering.
12. I’ve told him everything.

The hitman grimaced. “Er…all I needed was the fee. Now, where does this “Jimmy” live?”

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


Nereus’s Daughter

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

One day a pretty forest nymph, who soundlessly slumbered in her woods, awoke to find a disheveled ape hovering above her. Sweating. Grunting. Drooling. About to dock between her meaty, leggy things.

The nymph screamed and clawed at the god’s eyes, shouting at Priapus to stop or else she “would tell her father.”

In response, Priapus merely hit the ground beside her head with a curled up fist, hooting in laughter.

Nereus’s daughter saw no other option but to ask a kinder god than Priapus for assistance. Not twenty seconds after, the nymph turned into a flowering pink lotus tree.

From Guest Contributor Eliot Gilbert