Posts Tagged ‘Ground’
Jul
Limited Engagement
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Curtain rises.
Exterior of a house, bushes, a weathered blue Chevy in the drive.
The door opens. Enter GRANDPA. Locking the door, he crosses to the car. Six-year-old JEFFREY sneaks out of the bushes and creeps up behind Grandpa.
“Boo!”
The new game. He’s incorrigible.
Grandpa jumps. “Jesus Motherfucking Christ!” Clamping a hand over his chest, he staggers, collapsing onto the side of the auto. Grandpa slips to the ground and is still.
Wide-eyed Jeffrey cries.
A spotlight from the stage shines out. The crying, a baby’s voice.
The curtain falls.
No curtain call.
The houselights come up.
Get out.
From Guest Contributor Erik C. Martin
Erik lives and writes in San Diego. He misses Comic-Con, his critique group, and SCBWI meetings. Follow him on Twitter at @ErikCMartin.
Jun
Consequences
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My fate had been decided and I’m not sorry. The hunger in the pit of my stomach was more important than the consequences. When I barreled my fist into the man’s face and he fell to the ground motionless, I took the bread with my sore, bloody knuckles and ran. Within a day, the sheriff apprehended me.
I’m trapped in a cold, dank, cage, with crawling rats as my friends. I’ve heard other prisoners declaring innocence and then silence.
The sheriff led me outside to a chanting crowd, hands tied tightly behind me, to the noose that awaits my neck.
From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher
Apr
Sacrifice And Prayer
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
John jumped into the trench for cover, and a dead soldier stared blankly into nothingness. John silently prayed, took a deep breath, reloaded his rifled musket and repositioned. He abhorred shooting at his own people, but that was the only way. President Lincoln wanted slaves freed and John believed slavery was inhumane.
John pulled out a picture of his wife and stared at her radiant smile. He said another prayer, kissed his wife’s face, climbed up the trench and fired. Return shots echoed in his ears.
His wife’s photo remained clutched in his hand as he fell to the ground.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Apr
Pests
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Two men relaxed on a patio overlooking a lush garden, talking conversationally.
“I’m having a lot of trouble with these pests. They’re just everywhere! In my backyard, my pond, and even the kids’ sandbox,” the larger man said, shaking his head.
His companion sipped from a bottle. “Same with us. They destroy everything, but I still feel bad about killing them. They’re probably just trying to survive.” The smaller man paused before pointing to the ground. “Look, there’s one now.”
The larger man stomped on the creature with a look of disgust before wiping his boot.
“Pesky humans,” he grumbled.
From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer
Dec
Song For Ancient Children
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You’re moving away rather than moving toward something. I can’t be sure if you’ll ever come back. The sky is dotted with clouds that resemble ominous black eggs. You want to scream for help, but you’re out of breath. You’ve no idea at all what you should do next. “Fuck the clown!” you confusedly think. “Where’s my clock?” Just as someone is saying it’ll be OK, you feel a bone break. You see buildings toppling over, trees melting back into the ground. You hear angels approaching at full speed in chariots. There aren’t even parking spaces big enough for them.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press.
Oct
New York Strong
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I climb the subway steps into the abundant sunshine. The weather is warm and it’s just another September day. Or so I think…
Paper is floating in the air; the sky darkens and desks tremble. Nearby buildings disappear in clouds of smoke. I watch wide eyed from the fourteenth-floor window across from the World Trade Center. Screams are unbearable and angels fall with a thunderous thump to the ground. My heart pounds and I can’t breathe. I don’t comprehend the horror; the fire, blackness, death.
The towers collapse, but eighteen years later we’re strong for the victims and their families.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Life’s Surprises
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m walking along the parks path and the sun is so hot, sweat drips down my neck. The trees are full of sparrows chirping in unison, and the benches are full of elderly men reading the newspaper or just staring ahead. One man is eating chips and crumbs stick to his mustache. I chortle and move along. Mothers with children, some eating ice cream, drop sprinkles on the ground and the ants come in droves.
It’s days like this I don’t take for granted. Life is full of surprises and I never know what will be, once I start radiation.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Feb
The Sparkle On The Horizon
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There was a sparkle on the horizon.
It was the only thing keeping him alive. He’d run out of water hours ago, lost his horse soon thereafter, and even destroyed one of his boots when its heel broke off as he attempted kicking through the cracked ground in search of any remnants of moisture. He’d probably lost his sanity at that point too, but who was keeping track?
Yet there was that sparkle. No matter how many steps forward he took, the sparkle remained in place, forever out of reach.
He kept walking anyway. Hope was all he had left.
Jan
Faith, Hope, Etc.
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The next time you’re caught in a really bad place – the kind of place where people are always asking each other, “Oh why can’t they get that baby out of the ground?” – take some frequently used verbs and combine them in a bowl with Hindu magnet incense, a bit of forgotten history, brain fluid, and warm dog’s breath, and then let the mixture sit for 20 minutes, after which you should be able to see a faint glow up there, see it coming over the hill, women wearing sky blue T-shirts that say “Quaker” and waving signs that say “Love.”
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s latest collections are I’m Not a Robot from Tolsun Books and A Room at the Heartbreak Hotel from Analog Submissions Press.
Oct
The Clock Tower
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The clock tower, situated in the center of the town square, afforded views of the entire valley. No shadow could hide from its rapacious stare.
Townspeople went about their business quietly, all eyes on the ground, hoping to avoid unwanted attention.
Rebecca and Victor met in the churchyard green. They’d yearned for each other since youth, but had never managed to share even kiss. Now might be that moment.
Time stopped. The entire town froze.
When the clock resumed, Rebecca and Victor, despite being certifiably sober, returned to their homes after once again awakening from a stupor under mysterious circumstance.