Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Jul
My Last Hawaiian Vacation
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My new swim trunks were still crispy and smelled of a fresh paint. I plunged into the warm Hawaiian water, ready for my long-postponed vacation. And then I saw Her.
She gave me a hearty, genuinely happy smile, exposing a string of perfect, pearly white teeth. Her tight black skin glittered under the sun. She was clearly into me.
I looked back at my family uncomfortably. Little Johnny was pointing his little finger in my direction: too late. My body split in half, the ocean stained scarlet.
Luckily, my swim trunks remained completely intact: Sharky did not like their taste.
From Guest Contributor, Olga Klezovitch
Olga is a scientist who lives in Seattle. Her previous work has appeared in 50-Word Stories, Necon E-Books, and A Story in 100 Words
Jul
A Stubborn Speck
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The elevator doors close with a ding. Alone inside, she hums and checks the mirror. The speck on her cheek looks unsightly, like a coal mine bent forward and kissed her.
She pulls out a tissue from her bag, and dabs at it. No luck. Nagging speck, like someone spit tar on to her face. Two more tissues, nothing.
The skin around it is reddening. Three more tissues, one after another. She’s getting restless as her floor draws near.
The seventh tissue does the trick. Someone from behind was kind enough to hand it to her.
The elevator doors open.
From Guest Contributor, Indu Pillai
Indu is a commercial writer based in Bangalore. Her fiction has appeared in Mash Stories and 50-Word Stories. She delights in all kinds of stories, written and unwritten. Twitter: @InduPillai01
Jul
Confession
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I did it. I killed her in cold blood. I hesitated at first, but she finally got on my nerves.
She tickled my ears, sat on my lap, and touched my private body parts. I asked her to stop but she kept going.
I slapped her in the face. She dropped onto the floor at once. Her skinny, crooked legs twitched a few times in utter disbelief and then she went silent. I picked her up, dropped her dead body in the garbage can, washed my hands, and went back to work.
My office is a “No-Fly Zone.” No exceptions.
From Guest Contributor, Olga Klezovitch
Olga is a scientist who lives in Seattle. Her previous work has appeared in 50-Word Stories and Necon E-Books.
Jul
Billboards
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The headlights shine into the speckled misty darkness and my tires shoosh me along the Interstate, still late and many miles from the warehouse. How many hours have I been on this road?
I roar past the billboard that urges me to arrive safely, before I pass one that tells me to drink and drive. Then comes my favourite: the cute white Nivea girl, her frilly chest lit up like cat’s eyes. I would love to think about that chest as I close my eyes and drift to sleep, but this vague honking will not let me sleep, just sleep
From Guest Contributor, Garreth Keating
Jul
The Last Transmission Of The Starship Pyramus
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
100 seconds to detonation. All crew evacuate immediately.
Rob, I…
You used to say “we were stardust once and we’ll all be stardust again.” You always were a sentimental son of a bitch.
Bobby, I’m about to break my promise.
60 seconds to detonation.
The Centauri ambushed us. So, new orders: set the charge. Lure them in. And then…
Well, there are worse things in life than a quick end.
30 seconds to detonation.
I’m sorry, Bobby. There’s so much to say…
Don’t worry about me. I’m staring at death,
10, 9, 8-
but all I can see is stardust.
From Guest Contributor, John Murray Lewis
May
Old Flame
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Have you been scammed? Call now!” the billboard said. A man in a suit crossed his arms in defiance. She wondered if he could see her somehow. When she got home, she followed him online, looked at photos of his family. She explored the website of his alma mater and pictured him walking through the imposing, wooden doors of the library. She found his address, learned the square footage of his home.
At their first appointment, he stood up from his desk chair to greet her. “Nice to meet you,” he said. She stifled a giggle. How could he forget?
Sarah Vernetti is a freelance writer. She lives in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Apr
Moon Swallows Head of Barking Dog
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A young girl and her father sit on a bench and stare into the lake. They are stuck this way forever. From here on out, they must focus unblinking on the way it does not ripple, how no stone may enter and how no fish can leave. Across the park, a squirrel clings to a tree, his heart always exploding, a white dog snapping at his tail. The water reflects the moon and calls down the night, pocked with clouds– the sky split in two, half of it black, half of it blue; there is no color where they merge.
From Guest Contributor, Jeremy S. Griffin
Apr
Smashed Glass
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You remember: a blurry red light darting across the sky; the glossy road and its skewed mirror of your forehead; flashes of light into the eyes of a man in a hat, crossing the street. He remembers: two tons of steel collapsing from a rooftop, crushing his best friend flat. All that was left were two blue fingers and the smell of dust. The building remembers: the bones and bricks who made it strong, the lightning and rain licking its sides; burst out windows, a fire devouring from within like a disease. The fire remembers being the thing that burned.
From Guest Contributor, Jeremy S. Griffin
Apr
Jeb And Gerold
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Jeb thought he was safe for the time being; then he heard something:
“Who’s there?”
“Someone trying to stay alive.”
Jeb peered and saw someone. He crept forward, cradling his rifle.
The young man sat on some hay, his legs spread out, arms back.
“Go ahead, shoot.”
Jeb came up, and sat across from the Yankee.
“Not yet. How did you get caught in this mess?”
“I could ask the same about you.”
They looked at each other, forming similar thoughts.
“We could die tonight, you know,” said Jeb.
“Life’s too precious for that.” They leaned forward, and then kissed.
From Guest Contributor, Dycen Alexander
Mar
iPad
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“There,” she said as she quietly used me. Etching away with her instrument of pain, a black pen. It was supposed to be pressure sensitive but it was I who was forced to feel it. I always knew in my heart that it would stop, eventually… She would either tire of me or I would fall into the deep darkness of sleep. The only question left is which would come first? Could I manage to hold out? Or would some kind soul save me from this hell, distracting her while I drift off? This is my life, I endure, iPad.
From Guest Contributor, Erik Menches