Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Oct
Caramel Sauce
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Sweet,” Dad said, licking his lips.
“Different,” Mom added.
We were seated in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner. My
sixteen-year-old brother wanted to showcase the skills he had mastered
in a culinary arts course.
“Wait!” he exclaimed.
The rest of us watched him taste the meal before him. An expression of
bewilderment spread across his face. He ran back to the kitchen and
returned.
“I emptied out the wrong pot,” he conceded. ‘The caramel sauce was
meant for apple cake.”
“So what is left for the cake now?” Dad asked while Mom and I
refrained from laughing.
“Turkey gravy.”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
Oct
It’s Not What It Seems
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Mike, feverish, tossed in bed. Head aching and muscles tense, he dreamed of the beach, the hot sun beating on his face, when a voice awakened him.
“Babe, how are you feeling,” asked his wife Liz.
“My body feels like a truck hit it.”
“You heard what the doctor said. You have the flu. Rest, Tylenol and fluids is what he prescribed.”
“Yeah, well, the flu stinks and I feel like it’s more than the flu.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I’ll make you some homemade chicken soup. That should help.”
Mike laid back, closed his eyes, and never dreamed again.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
A Survivor’s Calling
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Mouth agape, eyes widened with fear, I looked on to what my world had been. Everything I lived for was swept up in a distant array of mud, debris and…corpses. Even through my grief, I knew the landslide had chosen me, to avenge everyone’s lives that came to an end in this short, devastating moment. This was my calling, which I would live through for the rest of my life, bearing their dreams.
Standing strong, even until this day, I recall this distant memory. With tears beginning to well in my eyes I see hope glimmering from the future.
From Guest Contributor Danielle Simpfendorfer
Sep
Natural Beauty
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Todd places a bouquet of red roses on his wife’s grave. The rain pelts down and the flowers wither. He sighs and kneels on the muddy ground, tears filling his eyes. Drenched from head to toe, he doesn’t care. It’s been two months since Maria died from cancer and his chest aches. He has no family, only his job to keep him company.
“I miss you, Maria. I wish it had been me instead.”
Weeping, Todd somberly rises to his feet and walks to his car.
After several minutes, the rain stops and the roses return to their natural beauty.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
To Clara: Regarding Your Critique
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You shared your writing with me. An extension of friendship, like a handshake. More like the reaching out of hands with the chance to be held – or swatted – open palmed. Sharing…emptying pockets to reveal hidden things among the embarrassment of collected lint, is a dangerous proposition. Your shadows merged with mine, achieving the density of darkness that brings on the dawn. How can I thank you? For selflessly taking my hands and guiding me to an unknown resting place within the pages of you. I spoke in an attempt to reciprocate. My words: sandpaper to your beach of memory.
From Guest Contributor Keith Hoerner
Sep
Waiting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Johnny sat in the waiting room, with sweaty palms, anxiously awaiting the doctor’s results. His eyes searched the area and came across a plump brunette sneezing into her handkerchief. She stuffed it back into her purse and Johnny cringed. He hated germs.
Finally, the nurse called Johnny into Dr. Lovell’s office.
“Johnny, you are perfectly healthy. I called you in because I want you to see a therapist to control your obsessive behavior with germs. Here’s a reputable doctor.” He handed Johnny the paper. “Go home and stop worrying.”
Johnny, relieved, left, but not before sanitizing his hands with Purell.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
Alma’s Journey
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’d always known about my husband’s cheating, but when he was home, he was good company. Now he’d left.
Was I losing my mind, too?
“Leave Miami,” my daughter had said. She’d just given birth to my only grandchild. “You can start over with us in Orlando.”
What was she was thinking? She knows I’ve never been more than thirty miles from home.
I looked down. The purse I thought I’d lost was between my shoes.
Picking up my purse, I couldn’t wait for the train doors to open fully—my daughter cradling my granddaughter on the brightly lit platform.
From Guest Contributor Geoffrey Philp
Geoffrey is the author of the YA novel, Garvey’s Ghost. He teaches English and Creative Writing at the Inter-American Campus of Miami Dade College.
Sep
Father
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Father threw his coat on the chair and announced, “I’m tired of trying to see the good in people.”
“Tough day, Father?”
“You have no idea. All day long, problems, problems, problems. I can’t fix chronic poor choices in partners or unfulfilled dreams of success because of laziness.”
“Did anything good happen today?”
“Well, the steps were repainted. It was a decent job, considering it was done by a recovering alcoholic.”
“See, that’s a start.”
“But there was a parade of people coming to confess all sorts of stupid things to me.
“Well, maybe being a pastor isn’t for you.”
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
Sep
My Sidekick
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She was the best stress buster I had. My best friend. My confessor, she bore all my messes. Talking to her was necessity not habit. She was my anchor in my bad marriage days. Ironically, my daughter shares a birthday with her.
She is the picture perfect woman to me. She got married to the best guy in the world. I’m so happy for her. I had never thought distance and time would keep us apart in these technologically advanced days. She is in EST and I am IST. What a mess these 9.5 hours have created in my life.
From Guest Contributor Dr. Scribbler
Sep
Never Forget
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was a warm sunny day on September 11, 2001. Lori remembered the towers imploding, the sadness and knot in her chest from the horror. She never forgot the sight of human bodies dropping to the ground as she watched from the window with watery eyes and shaking hands. She paced the floor as her other colleagues stayed silently glued to the window. The only words were those on the phone for panicked loved ones.
Sixteen years later, on a warm sunny day, the names of the victims are televised and read by grieving family members.
Lori will never forget.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher