Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Oct
Runnin’ On Adrenaline
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m amazed at how much energy I can muster after that dreaded phone call. It doesn’t matter it’s 3:00 AM. I can sacrifice sleep. I’m dressed in a flash and on the road racing to the hospital, running through hallways, arriving before your final breath, “I’m here Dad, I love you.”
You whisper, “Always remember Helen, you’re my queen of queens.”
And after arranging your funeral, packing your clothes, arguing with my siblings about who gets what, I drag myself home, plop down on the bed thinking I’ll pass out from exhaustion, instead, I think of you and tears erupt.
From Guest Contributor Charles Gray
Oct
Testimony
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When my car flipped in the air, I presumed that was the end, but I was alive, and my wife and daughter were gone.
It’s been many months since the accident, and it felt like yesterday. I wheeled myself into court, paralyzed from the waist down, remembering the day the doctor told me I wouldn’t walk again. I thought, it doesn’t matter, and then I remembered my son, Charlie. I needed to be strong for him, so, I struggled through physical therapy.
The heinous drunk driver was brought before the court and his fate will be awaited by my testimony.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Holes
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A court decision of forced eviction awaited him on the table. A huge hole sudenly gaped where his intestines often knotted and his stomach spasmed. He found himself in the no-man’s house he had once called home. And there is another new and bigger hole: where until a few moments ago the heart beat arrhythmically. “I need to sit down,” said the man who had no more legs at all. He stared at that thing that was still broadcasting a programme. A smile shone on his face. Through the hole in the skull flickered the healing glow of TV screen.
From Guest Contributor Ivan Ristic
Oct
His Stuff
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Junk: garbage to some, treasure to others, clutter at best, navigational obstacle on flooring, the cause of falls and injury…
Antonio learned firsthand. The architect of his own disaster, he sat idly on an easy chair, arm in cast, pondering what to do with all his stuff.
Quite unexpectedly a lightbulb lit up his mind, showing him the way. Creativity reawakened. His heart warmed with new purpose. He sprung to work.
Praises from the artistic community accelerated his mission. Photos of his unique collages went viral. He was crowned ‘artist extraordinaire’.
…all because of the ‘junk’ in his humble abode.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Oct
Quantum Entanglement
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Like a string of fireflies, we were at first one, then two; then two paired and paired again until the dark spaces between us led us to mirror a necklace of uncountable stars. Now, as I float in a glass-bottomed boat on waves that meet the river’s edge, I watch a scene unfolding: watercolor sunset over breaking waves, night wind in the willows and finally the gold sunrise through the green of this island where we once searched for Sirius among the stars, your voice in the breeze saying, the greatest illusion in the world is the illusion of separation.
From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell
Oct
Death Of A Student
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The email arrives just after 7:30 am, and its subject line is blunt: “death of a student”
You read this slowly. Twice. Open the message. In two sentences, the Dean of Students tells you everything: She was killed in a car accident. They’re working to remove her from your roster.
You delete the message, drag it back out of the Deleted Items folder, read it again.
The news isn’t public yet. You can’t say anything in class.
Her seat is empty. You pass out the day’s reading assignment and have an extra copy, which you quietly drop in the trash.
From Guest Contributor Shane Borrowman
Oct
Truth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I awoke in the hospital, I knew the truth. The agonizing pain in my back, the nurses rushing me to the operating room, with the walls spinning around me. The doctor’s “everything will be okay, Katie.” But it isn’t.
I’m bleary eyed from the sedative, but I feel a hand in mine, my husband’s. I’m too weary and can’t speak, so I give his hand a squeeze, and he gently squeezes mine back. He speaks of his love for me and how he’ll never leave. Then the doctor comes in and he lets go.
“Will my wife walk again?”
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Runaround
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
For his eighteenth birthday, Lathan got magical boots from Grandpa, so nobody could catch him up.
When cyclopes attacked the village, Lathan ran into a leafless forest, where witches boiled bones in cauldrons; so he fled to the Glass Mountain, opaque crystals everywhere, and their shimmering princess offered engagement; flushed in embarrassment, Lathan roved to a roadside tavern, mocked by goblins, and a bounty placed on his head. He circled around the empire for a month but eventually ended up at home.
As cyclopes growled, Lathan finally faced his worries, selling the boots for a rusty sword at the blacksmith.
From Guest Contributor Bettina Laszlo
Bettina writes fiction to convey what is beyond expression. Her work has appeared in NUNUM, Dragonfly educational programme, and is forthcoming at 101 Words. She lives in Budapest with her fiancé.
Oct
Two Ottos
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
By the time he awoke that Saturday morning, Otto was exhausted. It was another night of running dreams – of being on a treadmill, getting no place fast. And, then, of the treadmill ratcheted up to greater and greater inclines.
How much more could he take?
Painfully, step after step, he stumbled into the kitchen. Were his feet blistered?
There, in the cage on the counter, was Little Otto, his hamster.
And on the ridiculous hamster wheel.
Little Otto’s legs moved faster and faster.
“Stop it.”
But Little Otto only sped up.
“At least wipe that damned smirk off your face.”
From Guest Contributor David Sydney
Sep
An Hour Ago
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
This chipmunk has run up to me twice now. It retreats again and I crouch to tie my shoe. My eyes track my new acquaintance, surrounded by lush pines, miles of mountain-top views, and a deer carcass ransacked by the food chain about ten feet away from me. A ding distracts me from my observations–you texted me. We were meant to go somewhere an hour ago, but an hour ago I was already on this trail. The predators which are surely on this path, brush which camouflages them, and the overlook’s treacherous heights will always be more unwavering than you.
From Guest Contributor Morgan Sanders
Morgan is a student of biology at Pikes Peak State College.