Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Aug
Superhero
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Pay attention to your other senses, the blind man said, words muffled by my failing ears. They’ll take over if you lose one. He laughed, and I pushed our shared plate of sushi towards him, because I knew his touch was in no way enhanced. I watched his lips then: I’m no superhero. In the silence, the sushi tasted the same, the salt of tamari, snap of wasabi. Still I’d hoped: I’d envisioned a saving grace, sniffing people out by their soap’s scent, the sweetness of body lotion. The blind man, wishing for another roll, groped around on the tablecloth.
From Guest Contributor Colleen Addison
Aug
Chloe
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I loved the way Chloe licked her lips after an ice-cold drink, and when her long black hair blew in the breeze. When she tilted her face backward, she looked beautiful.
Chloe set up the picnic while I stood under the tree and watched. She was gorgeous in the way she shook the table cloth and neatly placed it on the grass.
The diamond ring was in my pocket, and I was set to propose on this bright warm, sunny day. She’d love it.
Chloe waved me over and I was ready. Then the unthinkable happened.
It thundered, then rained.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
Their Saturday Morning Walk
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“How was it Ed?”
By 10:30, Ed returned with Frodo, after their Saturday morning walk. Frodo, a Labrador retriever, immediately went to his food dish.
“I played fetch with Frodo in the park. He chased a squirrel, Edna, and they ran into the middle of a parade. I caught him, then we went by Sawyer’s place.”
“Was his forsythia in bloom?”
Cornelius Sawyer had an almost pathological attraction to his bush.
“Yeah…Frodo peed all over it, Edna. Then Sawyer threw a brick at him.”
“That was it?”
“No, he threw a tennis racket at me.”
“Oh…So, nothing unusual.”
From Guest Contributor David Sydney
Aug
Man’s Best Friend
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My wife said I treated Tobasco better than I treated the kids. I walked him three times a day.
I took him water skiing and skydiving. I fed him rib tips and chili for dinner. He’s ridden shotgun
in my Ferrari more than my wife. She has a conniption because I gave Tobasco a 24-karat gold
funeral with a sterling silver tombstone and cremated her mother. The heifer didn’t like me anyway.
Tobasco didn’t complain about dinner, clothes, and require $1000 cell phones. He didn’t fail in
school and talk back. Excuse me while I cry and blow snot everywhere.
From Guest Contributor Gary L. Dozier
Aug
Nameless Here Forever
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Something in the manner the June sun slants through my bedroom window sears my heart.
It burns through, red-hot, singeing its muscles and sinews but not its memories.
For it was on a blistering day like this that terror, treachery, vengeance and death engulfed.
A whirling hate storm, sowed by unknown faces in unknown places, which ravaged my known.
We could neither resist nor understand these demons who killed without remorse.
Who left us with our dead, the dregs of our lives and nameless here forever.
My homecoming, ten years hence, brings deep summer sadness, which will remain within forever.
From Guest Contributor Chitra Gopalakrishnan
Jul
Independence Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s “Independence Day,” and I’m excited to see the fireworks show at the beach with my kids. I’ve packed a small picnic of chicken sandwiches and soda, nothing fancy and we’ll sit on the sand watching the sky light up. I want to make this day special for Charlie and Kenny since the divorce has been tough on them.
My youngest, Kenny, takes my hand and gives me a warm smile while Charlie is sitting cross legged waiting.
The sky bursts into red, green, blue and white and the look of joy on my boys’ faces is all I need.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Sunday Dinner At My House
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I carry the steaming pot of paprikash to the table. It’s spicy and garlicky, and my mouth waters in anticipation.
“That looks amazing,” my sister says.
“You printed this?” My mother’s nose wrinkles, and she leans back in her chair.
“Of course,” I say as my sister shifts a bowl of buttered noodles. I set the pot down.
“You kids have it so easy. In my day, we had to chop our own vegetables and simmer the chicken for hours.”
My sister and I grin at each other, but my mother doesn’t notice. She’s already spooning food onto her plate.
From Guest Contributor Julia Rajagopalan
Jul
Where’s Frank?
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was 2:30. AL’S BAR opened at 3:00. Al, sitting by the counter, squinted at the door.
“Is that you, Edna? We’re closed.”
The place was poorly lit.
“I know. I just wondered if Frank was here last night. He found some money I hid. I figured he must have gone out drinking.”
“Maybe he went to the track?”
“Nah, not enough money.”
“I didn’t see him. Did you try THE TOP HAT or LEO’S LOUNGE?”
“No.”
“How about TED’S PLACE.”
“No way, Al. It wasn’t much money, and you know Frank. He only goes to crummy places like this…”
From Guest Contributor David Sydney
Jul
Confidentiality
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Busy medical clinic. Patient-chart filing cabinet stuffed. More charts waiting to be shelved, by me. Where to?
It’s the Computer Age. The weight of paper is seriously impacting office health.
I walk by my desk, accidentally knocking down the records I’m to file.
Uncle Frederic is a patient here. He hasn’t told me why.
Footsteps?
Have to gather the wayward folders and pile them neatly onto the desk. The night patrol nods, passing by my opened doorway.
Tomorrow’s a new workday. Perhaps I can linger again after office hours and find out why uncle visits this clinic once a week.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Jul
Bird With A Broken Wing
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One day a bird with a broken wing showed up on the back porch of the old man’s house. He tried nursing the bird back to health. He bought birdseed and he put out water. He took the bird to the vet, and the vet told him there really wasn’t anything they could do for the bird; the wing would never heal enough for the bird to fly again. The man took the bird back home, but the vet was right. One day the man looked out at the porch and saw a single feather, but the bird was gone.
From Guest Contributor Dan Slaten