Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Jun
Unconventional Ray
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“I need to take another X-ray,” the doctor said.
“Why?” asked the patient.
“Not ‘Y’. ‘X’ as in X-rated.”
“What is X-rated?” The patient was awakening from post-surgery slumber.
A nurse entered the hospital room. The doctor left.
“So, how does it look?” the patient asked the nurse. Realizing his covers were off and she was peering down at him below the waist.
“I mean, my ankle.”
The nurse funneled her eyes through his. Her full lips smiled at the corners. Giggling followed.
“You’re on the mend, Ray,” she said. “Dr. Hoo just wants to take one more X-ray.”
“Who?”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, flash fiction and short stories. She’s published in Canada, United States and Europe in journals, anthologies and online including Boston Literary Magazine and Friday Flash Fiction. She won several poetry contests, was shortlisted in a short story competition and is a member of two writers’ groups where she resides.
Jun
The Change
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Watta you gonna do?”
“I don’t know.” It was getting dark.
“You could run away.”
“Where would I go?”
“California?”
“That far?”
“Or Mexico.”
“I don’t speak Spanish.”
“Then just give it back.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I already spent it on candy.”
His friend thought about that. “Can I have some?”
“I ate it all.”
After watching the traffic at the intersection for a while, the boy’s friend got up. “I can’t go to California,” he said apologetically.
“Why not?”
“I’m not allowed to cross the street.”
“Yeah,” the little boy still sitting on the curb admitted, “me neither.”
From Guest Contributor Jean Blasiar
Jun
Tracks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The snow showed her tracks. It was easy for them to follow her. They were clumsy and noisy, but were on her trail. At this pace, she was not sure how long she could last.
As the snow came down harder, her tracks were getting covered and would make them hard to follow. If the snow continued at this rate, her tracks would be obliterated and she would be safe. Then she could stop and rest, and hide under some fir trees until they passed or gave up. She would live another day and maybe give birth to her fawn.
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
Jun
Unexpected
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Lucy turned up the car radio. It was their song and it reminded her of his soft touch on her body and the warmth of his breath on her face. Jim was taken too soon from an unexpected illness and the pain jabbed at her heart. She longed to hear his laughter and see his big dimples. His family didn’t approve of their relationship. She was older, divorced and not Catholic. But they were in love.
Lucy drove up the driveway and rubbed her stomach. How would she tell a family that disliked her that Jim would’ve been a father?
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
The Man On The Stair
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It wanted my attention!
An icy breath of air hit me in the face, whispering something in my left ear.
I looked up at the staircase, narrow and active, only to see its black hair dangling over the banister, and its face blank.
I froze yet was intrigued.
Am I going mad?
I called out to it, “Who are you?”
Then it was gone.
I started to think it was the same thing that “pushed” the towels off the banister, even damp ones!
I called him “the towel man.”
I am a “skeptic on the turn,” although he’s long gone.
From Guest Contributor Tanya Fillbrook
May
Love Letters
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
They sit in the bottom of a shoebox in a dusty corner of an attic on an unremarkable street in a neighborhood that could be located almost anywhere. Love letters. Old, forgotten love letters. They were written over thirty years ago by two people who barely exist anymore, only one of whom lives in this particular house. He doesn’t remember they’re there, of course, and she, wherever she is, doesn’t remember writing them. She has moved on, married someone else, had kids, just like he did. But the letters remain, fading reminders of a forgotten passion neither one feels anymore.
From Guest Contributor Dan Slaten
May
The Sandbox
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The days pass, and with each exhale, from nothing, there is formation of something; something new. She kneads Gaia’s dough to create substance; substance from silt. Steadfast, the new titan’s loamy paws fury on, and her reliefs; bring her relief.
Unknown eyes gaze in unease, at the new one, at Poseidon and Hephaestus as one, a little one, a guileless deity of change. Born from the inertia of Chaos, born as something different; different than what was before. The Twelve gaze in unease. Deimos pours another round. In their kylixes, they see moving mountains. It’s time to protect their home.
From Guest Contributor Kyle Malloy
May
Daydreaming
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Morning. Walking to the shops in a daydream, hungover. My mind wanders and takes me somewhere else….
I am sitting at the bar in the Wolf Dog Tavern with John. I ask the landlord to sub me a fifty. The landlord moans, ‘go and cut some lawns and make your own money.’ I tell him that I will have money next week. John was going to cut his lawn by the fish factory.
A lady snaps me out of my reverie, I must have be talking aloud and waving my hands.
‘You alright?’ She asks assuming that I am mad.
From Guest Contributor Declan Kelly
Declan lives in Mayo, Ireland. He is a big fan and follower of Irish heritage, culture, and beer.
May
Revenge
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Home for a funeral, I pop into my local of yesteryear.
I recognize that boozy bleary-eyed pig face propping up the bar.
Wilkins, the school bully!
Wanker!
How he’d tormented me forty years ago, but clearly he remembers me not.
How I’ve fantasized about going back in time and standing up to him!
But now he has aged, badly, looking like a grotesquely inflated beach ball with his vast beer belly, all muscle turned to flab.
I fantasize about following him out at closing time and beating him up but desist, for life has already done the job for me.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
May
The Snake Tree
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The forest saw it all. Less than a moon turn she lasted.
Wrapped in a shroud, he planted her in the leafy earth under the shade of birch and pine. Worms and beetles took her to the forest, bit by bit.
She called to him from the snake tree, and he rushed to her while the moon shone across the water. They lay on sheets of green. Her embrace was stronger than death. Beetles and worms took him bit by bit. The rustle of leaves and the sighing of wind.
The forest saw it all and the forest was pleased.
From Guest Contributor David Rae
David lives in Scotland. He loves stories that exist just below the surface of things, like deep water.
He has most recently had work published or forthcoming in; THE FLATBUSH REVIEW, THE HORROR TREE, LOCUST, ROSETTA MALEFICARIUM, SHORT TALE 100, and 50 WORD STORIES. You can read more at Davidrae-stories.com