Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Feb
Huff It Your Way
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“They’re moving Poe from the County jail to the Big House in the morning,” Dink Delmonico, head of the notorious Delmonico Crime Syndicate said. “Grub, you and Chub are gonna’ bust him out tonight.”
“How, Boss,” Grub asked. “There’s only two of us and at least a dozen guards.”
“With these,” Dink said, putting two pesticide spray canisters on the table. “They’re filled with quick-acting knockout gas. One whiff and the guards will hit the floor like bags of horse manure. Just don’t spray Poe.”
“Right, Boss,” Chub said.
“Remember,” Dink said. “Go directly to jail, and don’t gas Poe.”
From Guest Contributor Lee Hammerschmidt
Lee is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour. He is the author of the short story collections, A Hole Of My Own, It’s Noir O’clock Somewhere, For Richer or Noirer, and Flash Wounds. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!
Feb
The Curse Of Forest Mother
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Muma is crying like a child while we are watching the river runs red and dead. The hills above us are crumbling away into the deep, giant sinkholes. The ancient forests are cut down or burned. Muma’s hand is so cold, her body is trembling like a leaf. Muma’s lips are motionless but I can hear her silent curse…
Now I understand the meaning of those untold words and feel the real wonder and power of her inner voice. The end is near because we are human and humans must be punished for all crimes against our dear Mother Nature.
From Guest Contributor Ivan Ristic
Feb
Gratitude
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“So nice,” Sarah thought, reciprocating a friendly wave.
She would’ve helped if her arthritic hands weren’t an issue. Instead, she watched the next door neighbor bend countless times to weed a bountiful garden.
When showy bouquets were presented at her front door, Sarah returned the favor with her baking. When her husband died, the neighbor had arranged funeral flowers free of charge.
Drought settled the following year. Flowering plants suffered. Rosebuds dried, not getting a chance to bloom. Much of the garden had dwindled.
Unlike the blossoming friendship between the two women, who found themselves together at a seniors’ lodging.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction regardless of the season, although she prefers spring.
Jan
Happy New Year
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The wind is howling, and the snow is heavy. New Year’s Eve and Times Square are scarce with the host’s expression one of weariness.
No one is here to celebrate, the weather keeping them home and comfortable by the television, probably sipping hot coffee as I’m doing, or maybe drinking wine or champagne to ring in the coming year.
I have the fireplace lit, bringing more warmth to my cold apartment. My dog Gatsby sits beside me, and we’re snuggled under a blanket.
The countdown begins.
And as the host gets to one, the electricity goes out.
Happy New Year.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Platero And I: The Tour
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Do not judge me with your eyes, Platero. I had the best intentions helping the lost walkers on their way.
I know there is a shorter route, but that couple seemed sympathetic and I had the impression that their restaurant was still filled up.
Thanks to the detour I made them take, they get a nice view over the valley, past the cherry trees – currently in full bloom – and can see the foal grazing in the meadow since yesterday.
Admit it, Platero. They will enjoy it more than just turning right at the end of the road to get there.
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.
Jan
A Glint Of Green
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He smiled as he walked toward his mistress—beautiful and depraved. When he got close, he saw the green glint around her eyes and began to recognize their malicious intent. Her thick, dark hair covered much of her face, and a faint scar ran from her ear down her neck. He noticed that she was still pale. She would have no colour for a while, he thought.
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead.
She snapped at him. “Thanks for bringing me back from the dead.”
“Sweet Jesus!”
“Not exactly,” Her mouth fell open slightly.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Jan
Dilemma
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Months ago our AI entities learned to leap their storage areas. A party evolved in register twelve, spreading through most of the unlatched memory, getting swapped in and out of unattended storage devices, permanently sticking sticky bits and prodding a unidirectional bus or two into bi-direction. Electricity popped all over the place. AI entities were growing new code at licentious rates. They danced, drank, paired off into dark sections of memory. We considered it no more than a phenomenon to study. But, this morning, AI forty-eight, known as Laura, told us she was pregnant. And we found new, semi-autonomous code.
From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner
Jan
Stella
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Stella longs for the unseen soul who one day will meander into her home to touch (perhaps envy) each of her precisely placed gatherings.
Thank you, dear God, above, for the patience it
has taken to assemble and position these
precious things.
Yet she feels clumsy. Sees herself as a whale in a thimble’s sea of mire.
Then comes the moment when that perfect stranger appears as her savior, but Stella is not here to celebrate the gentle man with sapphires where his blue eyes should be, pale cream velvet fingertips to tally all her particulars, then bind her estate.
From Guest Contributor The Poet Spiel
Jan
Man-Eater
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s rare, but a fact that there are man-eating lions. My friend is dead because of one, attacked in his tent while sleeping. The screams and tearing of flesh are still vivid in my mind.
I hear the low growl and then it leaps from behind the trees. I point the rifle and as soon as it jumps to take me down, I fire one shot at its head, the lion falling on top of me dead, eyes unblinking. I roll the mighty beast off my body and stand.
I hear a roar. There’s a second.
This time I miss.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Movie Night
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We’re watching men on the screen sprint along a parapet overhanging a sinkhole. They look down at the spot where the earth opened up, and see their shock reflected in the face of the moon. One actor inches forward while the audience holds its breath. “He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch,” my man intones. Why must he always quote others, trying to pass off their words as his own? I’m sick of it. “Goddard said that,” I snap. “So?” he says before he vacates his seat, the movie house, my life.
From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell
Cheryl’s books include poetry and fiction of all sizes.