Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Feb
Worth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We knew that the Dragon was on the train, hired to guard the locked safe that held the payroll. Too many armed clerks had been lost. But in such a small space, the Dragon could not stretch his wings, could not swing his claws. If he used his fire, the wooden train car would burn. Yes, the safe would survive, but it might fall to the tracks and be subject to anyone with the block and tackle to retrieve it. No one knew it was the Dragon we were after. You would think they would have noticed the giant collar.
From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner
Jan
Cloudy Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Nothing hurts like the pain in my chest or the ache in my head. Thoughts of my grandma’s last embrace grip me. I look up, expecting to see her face in the clouds, but all I see is rain. Perhaps, her tears appear as raindrops, and her face is only visible to angels. I was once her angel. She took with her my wings, the same ones that gave me the strength to fly above obstacles. I hold her umbrella above me, her scarf wrapped around my neck. Some say I inherited her kindness, the only inheritance that truly matters.
From Guest Contributor Ernestina Aggrey
Jan
Relationships
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Anna reflected on her most cherished companions.
There wasn’t a room in her home that didn’t feel their presence. They helped her become organized and value the importance of scheduling her days.
When they stopped behaving as expected, especially at times of need, Anna fell apart.
Her son noticed the untimely demise. How she missed appointments or arrived late for others. How her personality took on an air of grumpiness.
“Let’s get you back on track,” he said, visiting one day.
Once he fitted batteries into the once silenced clocks, his mother bounced back.
Her time-focused companions ticked on.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction while trying to keep warm through a Canadian winter.
Jan
Temperature Rising
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Rudder lay on the trainer’s table writhing in agony. His throwing arm was swollen to bulbous proportions. A nasty, blistering rash spread from his wrist to his shoulder. His body convulsed with chills, a fever of 105°.
“Have you been self-treating again?” the team doctor asked.
“Just some analgesic balm. The big game’s on Sunday and my arm’s killing me. I need to be ready.”
“How much balm?”
“Four tubes.”
“What! The body can’t absorb that much!”
“Will I be okay by kickoff?”
“There’s no way you’re playing!” the doctor said. “You’ve got a severe case of Ben Gay Fever!”
From Guest Contributor Lee Hammerschmidt
Lee is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour who lives in Oregon. He is the author of the short story collections, A Hole Of My Own and It’s Noir O’clock Somewhere. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!
Jan
Any Other Year
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s “New Year’s Eve”, and Nick sits in front of the television gulping beer waiting for the ball to drop. His dog Gatsby rests his head on Nick’s lap seeking attention.
“Okay,” Nick says and rubs Gatsby’s head. “How’s that feel?” Gatsby contentedly wags his tail.
His neighbors are causing a raucous across the hall, laughing and playing loud music which fills the hallway, but the property owner doesn’t care since he’s there too. Nick, a loner, considers his science teaching job and Gatsby his friends.
The ball drops and Nick’s year will be the same as any other year.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Dragonfly And Crow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We—who were left by the fire after the boss stood on the flame’s waving edge, wearing his black suit and immaculate boots, to tell the dragonfly and the crow that had bedeviled his every moment since the fire’s first spark that he had found a solution and would soon be free of their cruelty, that he, the boss, would soon pull off their wings and grind them into dust, and then turned, the boss, and ran into the flames—joined our hands before spreading blankets on scorched grass, opening bottles of cold beer, and sharing figs fatter than those in eternity.
From Guest Contributor John Riley
John is a former teacher who works in educational publishing. He has published fiction and poetry in Smokelong Quarterly, Mojave River Review, Ekphrastic Review, Connotation Press, Banyan Review, Better Than Starbucks, and many other journals and anthologies. EXOT Press will publish a book of his 100-word prose poems in 2022.
Jan
Cage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The town came to the zoo based on the promise of a special exhibit of animals captured with great difficulty. The audience was truly impressed.
“My god, they are ten times our size.”
“They are bellowing so loud they can be heard ten towns away. The shrieking hurts my ears and might leave me deaf.”
Despite their fear people stuck around, mesmerized by the crazed beasts. They trusted the extra thick bars in the cage.
Their trust was ill-advised. The humans broke out of the cage and stomped the crowd into the ground. Three thousand Xanians died painfully.
From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley
Jan
One Last Time
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The ringing in Timothy’s ears from nearby bombs gives way to headaches and fear. Doctors are scrambling while patients are moaning and yelling for their mothers.
He closes his eyes and remembers the last time kissing Amanda, laying under the large oak tree after a summer picnic. Her lips tasting of fresh strawberries, the sweetness giving him a quiver. He wants to go back to that happier, peaceful place.
A nurse is moving his stretcher with great speed. “We need to evacuate.”
As the blinding brightness approaches the vehicle, and soldiers scream, he tastes Amanda’s strawberry kiss one last time.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
The Final Procedure
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She lays on the table like a forgotten doll, eyes closed. The final procedure is complete.
Let it work.
A moment of silence, then she opens her eyes. And smiles.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“I’m David.”
“But you’re…old.”
She searches her memory, then cries out.
“The car!”
“It can’t hurt you, Rachel.”
It hurt me. The drunk barreling down the road, right at her. And I, her big brother, her protector, too far away.
She wraps her arms around me.
“Don’t cry.”
I hug her to me.
“What is this place?” she asks.
“My laboratory. This is where I make cyborgs.”
From Guest Contributor Eric Petersen
Jan
Before The Words, There Were Echoes
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There was silence in the universe. Words were nowhere to be found, as if all existence had stopped and all that was left was a void of utter disbelief and confusion. How can there be something, and yet it means nothing?
She had many words inside her, words that boiled into nothingness and brought about the vapor of insignificance. She remembered “in the beginning was the Word,” but instead of feeling any sense of security, she lost heart.
In that loss, she grasped the emptiness of whispers and asked the vast expanse:
“What is needed to be compassionate?”
“A soul.”
From Guest Contributor Aida Bode