Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Sep
Juiced
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Reuben downs a shot of tequila and says to me, “Keep up. We don’t like to drink alone.” I down two, three, four shots and fail to catch up.
Reuben turns to the brunette sitting on the next bar stool. “People claim your fingernails and hair keep growing after you die. You believe that? I don’t.”
“You’re drunk,” she snaps.
Reuben grins at me and says, “When men get embalmed, the juice pumped into them gives them a world-class boner. That’s what I want, a boner that lasts forever.” He downs another tequila, trying to calm his demons and himself.
From Guest Contributor Robert P. Bishop
Sep
Death Of Humanity Or Earth?
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Déjà vu? Exactly when did Japan decide to kill an ocean? 2022? Or 2024? Or this coming Thursday? ‘Tis a question of the mind, it would seem. Meaning?
Each of those dates Japan had decided to let lose their nuclear waste into the ocean. The next question is Indian ocean or Pacific? Which will die? A third of the living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed. To hope for salvation. And realize that governments of the world are fighting UFOs or God or gods? It makes reality kind of fictional today. Doesn’t it?
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Sep
Motherhood At Starbucks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Motherhood at Starbucks.
A boy of 3 discusses his day’s activities with his mother.
While enjoying his cookie.
In a moment of grace, he offers his mom a bite of his treasure.
His prize for perfection– His cookie.
She accepts knowing that this perfection may not come again.
They discuss their plans that are meaningful only to them.
I am amazed at the fluidity of their grace and their understanding
Of one another.
I wonder what our lives would be like if we were so blessed.
Except on holy days when angels guided us home, happy, in love.
And sacred.
From Guest Contributor Sandy Rochelle
Sandy Rochelle is an award winning and widely published poet, and filmmaker. Her Documentary film Silent Journey is streaming on: http://www.cultureunplugged.com/storyteller. She is the recipient of the prestigious Presidential Literary Award. Publications include: Dissident Voice, Wild Word, Verse Virtual, Indelible, Haiku Universe, Every Day Writer, Poetic Sun, Ekphrastic Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and others.
Sep
A Ladder To The Stars
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
For him the past was a story trove, for me it was a series of embarrassments that woke up and lingered like morning phlegm.
My brother tells another story on our porch. I notice how night falls earlier in mid-August. How the North Star rises off the horizon. How it calls me like a conjurer in an epic fantasy.
My brother will stay in this town and rise. He’ll talk about how the band played Forever Young at his graduation and he knew he was destined. But who will tell the story of that morning when I woke and wandered?
From Guest Contributor Dave Nash
Sep
Relishing The Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I step into the taxi, what happens next is something I will never forget…
It is warm so I loosen the annoying necktie and use my handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my brow.
I gaze out the window at the immense buildings relishing my first time in Manhattan. Tired from the flight, I rest my eyes. There is time before we reach the office building.
A loud honk and screeching tires startle me. Coming toward us is a large white truck.
As I’m loaded onto the ambulance in a stretcher, fading, my handkerchief lays torn on the ground.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
Ingredient
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Of course Mickey was very honored that the great wizard Merlin asked him, an apprentice, to fetch an important ingredient for his secret potion.
He rode for days to get to the desert hills, where he encountered a wolf’s nest, five cubs and their mother. Without hesitation he pulled his dagger and turned her offspring into orphans.
Wolf’s milk was a peculiar ingredient Merlin requested for his magic potion, he thought.
On his way back, he saw plants he had never seen before.
‘I should bring some home and who knows, Merlin could find some use for these too.’
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.
Sep
The Waiting Room
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My clammy hands make the number I pulled soggy. I roll the paper’s corner between my fingers until it looks like the twisted end of those poppers you throw at the ground. The chairs are ice cold and don’t warm up to me. Who am I waiting for to call my name? The slip is blurry. There’s no number after all. My skin is on fire. The paper disintegrates. Now I’ll never know when I’ll be called. The gift of creation is eating me alive. I really wanted to get that checked out. But I don’t think anyone is coming.
From Guest Contributor Madeline van Batum
Madeline lives in Colorado with her cat and hopes that one day she can go back to her home country of the Netherlands to finally meet the Flying Dutchman.
Sep
Dead Flowers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I was still in my twenties. A woman at the bar grabbed my arm and asked for my help. But I also would have rather done the tying than be the one tied up. Faraway in time, my doctor was phoning me with the results of the biopsy. I had what he called “an oddball cancer.” Of course, I did. What other kind would a poet have? The woman, her back now to me, was singing along with the jukebox about all the lonely people, a small, crumpled sound like foul dead flower water at the bottom of a vase.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s newest poetry collection, Heart-Shaped Hole, is available from Laughing Ronin Press. He co-edits the online journal UnLost, dedicated to found poetry.
Sep
Note To Self
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I recognized the helmet on the unearthed body as the same customized gear hidden in my private lab. The ancient, scarred face underneath it, not so much. The damage was far too extensive. Even so, I knew.
Words scratched into the metal plate the body clutched remained legible: “Do not activate.” It didn’t specify what, but I knew that, too.
If I press that button in my lab a portal will open to the past. I had decided against the risk.
But now I must do it. I need to find out what could cause me to write that warning.
From Guest Contributor Sean MacKendrick
Sep
Home From War
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I stepped off the bus, my body drenched in sweat. I couldn’t wait to remove my uniform.
I walked the path, the grass greener than I remembered and budding with flowers.
My head ached from the heat, and I needed a bath, but I didn’t think my wife would mind.
There Jane stood, her dress blowing in the breeze, her hair longer, shielding the sun from her face. She screamed my name and ran into my arms.
We enjoyed a passionate kiss that lasted several minutes when she took my hand and led me inside.
The bath would certainly wait.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher