Posts Tagged ‘Gravity’
Apr
Weightlifting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When he first started pushing barbells, he did it to get his anger out, throwing the weights from his body, stressing his tendons as he exhaled sprays of spit with every red-faced repetition, every sweaty pump. He realized his joints wouldn’t last long hurling metal, so he calmed his approach, traded manic intervals – of fighting gravity with fury – for calculated precision, and he’d demonstrate, lying down on a chair with an invisible bar connecting his fists, showing us the proper form of a barbell press, his big forearms and biceps flexing and twisting slowly as his muscles contracted, then extended.
From Guest Contributor Parker Wilson
Parker is a writer and editor living in Highland Park. He is a recent MFA graduate and spends his free time running along the Detroit River. He’s published in Bristol Noir and is a founding editor at DUMBO Press.
Instagram:@parkerreviewsbooks
Dec
Relativists
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A twin, jealous of her sister’s looks, sends her into outer space.
-The joke’s on you, says their mother. She will return younger than you. And, she’ll look even better.
Doesn’t she know time is an illusion? Then again, she believes the sun rises and sets.
-She knows an illusion when she sees it, says the mother. She’s always been the smart one.
The mother glances down at her watch. It runs more slowly when in motion, treating time like taffy: the greater the pull, the more it stretches.
-Gravity, she seethes.
You always liked her better, says the twin.
From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell
Cheryl’s recent fiction has appeared in Switch, Does It Have Pockets? Gone Lawn, Necessary Fiction, Pure Slush, and elsewhere.
Sep
Written Florida
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The hospital counter balanced the consequences of Chloe’s belief in radiological.
“Poise Samuel. It’s dosage and daydreaming. Don’t slam this shut, there’s no ambush in it.”
Samuel’s reptilian wheelchair spontaneously defended his ego with a damp pelvis moan.
“You need to explore your obsession with maintaining haste.”
And then Chloe was behind him, creating an exit.
Outside the gravity of habit drew dated windows and naked brick into Samuel’s response.
“Chloe, you are the answer to a whistle.”
Her blouse threw out naked holes of laughter until the urban inside her tongue finished the joke.
“But you have no teeth.”
From Guest Contributor Geoffrey Miller
Aug
Exit Stage Left
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A young lady reminded me of the theatre, a single spotlight illuminating an actor on stage; blackness all around except for her brightly lit face and dust particles dancing about, defying gravity as they floated in all directions.
I also thought about a woman, a wife and mother, watching television, a solitary figure in a dark room. Her life’s work was behind her, trying to distract herself from reality by watching mindless entertainment and wondering what people had to do with themselves when they weren’t doing anything else.
Now, I’m nothing more than that dust particle floating my days away.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Mar
Gravity
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You are not bound by gravity, my son.
Midnight, finger tapping my shoulder.
Fortress under my blankets. Helpless tears slip down his cheeks.
“They hate me, Momma,” he whispers, voice cracking. What can I say to that?
You are not bound by gravity, my son.
“Why am I so weird?” His question is broken, tentative. Saying it aloud makes it more real than it was before.
“Some people are just born different, baby.”
“Are you different, Momma?” What an innocent question.
“Yes,” I say, voice sticking. So I repeat myself. “Yes, I am.”
But we are not bound by gravity.
From Guest Contributor Tirzah Blazis
Tirzah is a high school senior who takes dual enrollment classes at Pikes Peak Community College.
Jan
Incensed
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The crumpled notebook paper can’t be hurt, no matter how hard it’s thrown. An anemic crackle sounds at impact, a lazy, pointless attempt to uncurl is its sole achievement. The lopsided wad sits atop the unburning end of a Duraflame log. Mercifully, black char ashes the paper’s edge, further loosening the ball until gravity pulls it down to hearth. Still misshapened, I see blue ink, evidence of the second worst opening line in the history of writing. The winner is in my fist, ready to toss to the flames. It’s the only way to bring fire to my words today.
From Guest Contributor DL Shirey
DL Shirey lives in Portland, Oregon, writing fiction, by and large, unless it’s small. He has been caught flashing at Café Aphra, 365 Tomorrows, ZeroFlash, Fewer Than 500 and others listed at www.dlshirey.com and @dlshirey on Twitter.
Oct
Gravity
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A panhandler with the woeful face of a Christian martyr in a medieval painting stops me outside the discount liquor store. He says he needs two more bucks to get a bottle. Marlene, he adds as if I know her, is resting with a beer and the dude that shot her whose nickname is Rabbit. Has anyone asked us how we see things? No! We’re all on the road. But now it’s really getting fun. I dig some change out of my pocket. There are only so many opportunities to take maximum advantage of gravity’s pull on people and objects.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Apr
Murderous Intentions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He sat on the park bench. Waiting to find his next victim. Women pass by as they take their morning jog.
A woman with meaty thighs and blonde hair grabs his attention. Not too slim, not too heavy. Right in the middle. She is the one. Time to work his magic. He jogs beside her.
“Hi I’m John. Let me just say that even if there wasn’t gravity on earth, I would still fall for you.”
“Smooth, but cute. I’m Kathy.”
They jog together. His mind wanders. How is he going to kill her? Stabbing? Poison?
So many endless possibilities.
From Guest Contributor Alexa Findlay
Alexa is a Creative Writing Major at the University of California, Riverside. She spends her time writing fiction and poetry. Her work has been featured in Pomona Valley Review, Better than Starbucks Magazine, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Halcyon Days, Grotesque Magazine, Blood Moon Rising Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review, and A Story in 100 words, amongst others.
May
A Singular Engagement
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
William cradled his seven billion secret.
So many sparkles, surfaces splintering sunlight.
He couldn’t name a single confidant. The gravity and the gossamer belonged to him alone.
He snapped the case shut. The light remained. Would it fit? He believed so. He hoped so.
Then again, it didn’t matter. If it fit, they’d tell a fairy book tale. If it didn’t, they’d laugh, they’d reconsider, and they’d refit, impervious to the punches.
All of which they would come to know together. In the meantime, he’d know all alone, confident yet precarious in the center of his chest.
Witnesses could wait.
From Guest Contributor Frankie Sturm
Oct
The Gravity Of Shame
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Daphne has a secret.
She’s scared to speak of it. She doubts anyone will understand, even her closest friends. She only ever wanted to fit in, and so she’s hidden her affliction for more than a year now. She’s bought heavy boots, wears bulky jewelry, and ties herself to her bed at night, to avoid drifting away.
She’s searched on Google to no avail. She thinks about seeing a doctor, but what if they want to do experiments on her?
In the end, she decides it’s easier to float into the eternity of space than to admit she’s gravity immune.