Posts Tagged ‘Ground’
Jan
Your Cold Heart
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The damn dog wouldn’t stop digging.
Bitches can’t be with you if you don’t scream.
I paid the bills. The rent, the cellphone, the electric.
Why weren’t you on my side?
“Come with me!” I yelled.
You said, “You mean it?”
The dog stared at me, wanting an answer too.
I picked up a rock.
I usually miss, but it struck you right between the eyes.
I kept digging in the almost frozen ground.
I’m so sorry!
I guess the dog missed you as much as I did ’cause—
The dog kept digging.
I hit her right between the eyes.
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
E has works in The Purple Pen, The Haven, Spillwords, Centina Pentina, Entropy, NanoNightmares and a collection of the works, Flash Crazy, was published in 2021 and is available on Amazon.
Jan
Lost
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Which way do I go? Delirious, I have no idea. Lost, walking in the desert, hot, tired, and thirsty, my lips dry and cracked, I crumble to the ground from exhaustion.
I don’t remember how I wound up in this hell, but I know I will die here. I stare at the empty sky; the sun torching my body and pray for a quick death.
“Doctor, he’s opening his eyes.”
“Jared, can you hear me?”
Everything is blurry for a moment and then focuses. Standing before me is a doctor and nurse, the nurse gently holding my hand.
I’m home.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Platero And I: Old Skool Bloodbrothers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
No doubt you have been wondering, dear Platero, why Stefano keeps spitting on the ground each time we pass his house and I greet him with a slight nod.
We grew up in the same neighborhood and became good friends. Later we went to college in the same city, where we got drunk together and whispered similar sweet words in girls ears. We were convinced the world was at our feet and nothing would ever change that.
But then…the civil war broke out and blood brothers became sworn enemies.
Time heals many wounds, Platero, but clearly not all.
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.
Sep
Relishing The Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I step into the taxi, what happens next is something I will never forget…
It is warm so I loosen the annoying necktie and use my handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my brow.
I gaze out the window at the immense buildings relishing my first time in Manhattan. Tired from the flight, I rest my eyes. There is time before we reach the office building.
A loud honk and screeching tires startle me. Coming toward us is a large white truck.
As I’m loaded onto the ambulance in a stretcher, fading, my handkerchief lays torn on the ground.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
The Waiting Room
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My clammy hands make the number I pulled soggy. I roll the paper’s corner between my fingers until it looks like the twisted end of those poppers you throw at the ground. The chairs are ice cold and don’t warm up to me. Who am I waiting for to call my name? The slip is blurry. There’s no number after all. My skin is on fire. The paper disintegrates. Now I’ll never know when I’ll be called. The gift of creation is eating me alive. I really wanted to get that checked out. But I don’t think anyone is coming.
From Guest Contributor Madeline van Batum
Madeline lives in Colorado with her cat and hopes that one day she can go back to her home country of the Netherlands to finally meet the Flying Dutchman.
Aug
Watching Grass Grow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Willow loved the flowers.
Yellow lilies sprouted from breaks in old, torn tree bark. Hydrangeas shot up from the ground so beautifully. Willow waited with anticipation and baited breath as grass grew. She watched every moment of it. As tiny white tips sprouted from the dirt, oh joy of joys, the beginning was so exciting! Then, the tiny blades raised up to the sun, and Willow screamed with excitement. She couldn’t contain her joy. She watched impatiently as the leaves turned from green, to yellow, to orange, then brown. The moss grew over Willow’s feet. Oh, to be a tree.
From Guest Contributor Eliana Diaz
Eliana is an English literature and visual art major at UCCS. She is a feature artist in the 50th edition of Riverrun. She is a large fan of mythology, fantasy, and other make-believe.
Jul
Resistance
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The bomb exploded and debris collapsed all around. Covered in dust and choking from dryness, I ran to the alley. A sharp pain in my leg, I realized I had a large gash. I tore the sleeve of my shirt and wrapped my leg to stop the bleeding. With the gestapo in the area and people screaming, I stayed put.
After hours of cramped space and agonizing discomfort, I got up from the ground and limped to the safe house where my team awaited.
The resistance would be pleased with my finding and hopefully the allies would be here soon.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Scarlett And Phineas: A Love Story
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Scarlett looks away. “I will pray for your soul, Phineas.”
Phineas smiles. “The trees pray for me every day when I walk past them. The vines, the grass, every creature around pray for our souls when we are dead.”
“I pray you will fall to the ground, decompose and be used as fertilizer, causing the land to flourish. And since you are an honorable and chivalrous man, you may even be the savior of the many creatures, some of which you love dearly.”
“Thank you, Scarlett. I can only pray for your death similarly. It’s the least I can do.”
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Apr
Hunting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I left the cabin against my wife’s wishes and ventured into the woods hunting for anything that might feed my family. Within minutes the wind picked up and I found myself struggling in knee-deep drifts and knew an arduous journey was ahead. Would there be any rabbits or deer to hunt? Am I the only one who has a starving wife and children?
I continued my quest until my body tired and I had to rest. I collapsed to the ground, snow pelting my face, and my toes frozen.
I closed my eyes and knew my hunting days were over.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
Battlefield
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The bombs come at us in droves, the sound deafening. I run across the field dodging bullets and falling bodies, the few men alive still in agonizing pain. Our trench is ahead, and I just need to get there.
Another round of gunfire and screams echoing across the battlefield. My heart pounds heavily and I find it difficult to breathe.
A bullet knocks my helmet off and I’m unprotected.
Someone yells cease fire, grabs my arm, and throws me to the ground. The gunfire has stopped but we’re crawling.
A few feet and we make it safely across.
For now.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher