Posts Tagged ‘Guest Contributor’
Jul
The Lie
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It is too easy to start a lie.
I tried for a solid year to start a regular exercise routine, but it just didn’t take.
I promised myself eighteen months ago that I would only drink three days per week, but that never came to fruition. My current goal is to make a bottle of wine last three days.
Lying, on the other hand, was easy. I didn’t have to think about it. The words just spilled right out. It wasn’t conscious. I didn’t even have to journal about it or set a goal for myself. I just did it.
From Guest Contributor Amy Bracco
Jul
Learning To Read
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I lean into my chair holding the book by its bind, learning to read what I did not as a child, but now with gray in my stubble. Flipping through the pages, feeling the paper crease between my fingers, I fumble to link it all together.
I follow the words with a methodical dexterity of a trained scientist, and with repetition, I begin to sense the fruits of my labor, basking in the glow of my mother’s maiden language come alive.
The exercise ends with a whistle, as I close my cookbook and taste the pepperpot burn my overeager tongue.
From Guest Contributor Eric Persaud
Eric is an Indo-Guyanese American living in New York City. He is currently working on his doctoral dissertation in Public Health and writing stuff in his free time.
Jul
Prey
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The birds of appetite circled the spot below them on the desert floor. Inkblots against a sky cloudless and blue. They wheeled in decreasing concentric circles. Always, the spot the center of a bull’s-eye.
One bird landed feet from his target. Drawing nearer, he became agitated. There was nothing there. With a screech he took off in search of better prey.
Slowly, the spot resolved itself against the haze and became the figure of a man. He had stopped to rest after walking for hours. He stood now, indifferent to temperature and to thirst. Indifferent as well to his destination.
From Guest Contributor James C. Clar
Jul
A Beginner’s Guide To Dystopia
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
From the street outside, a loudspeaker boomed, “According to the decree of the 17th of this month on the Abolition of Walls.” I got up from the table where I was reading and went over to the window. Banners with the slogan “Public Interest Comes Before Self-Interest” fluttered in endless repetition down the street. Practically right under my window, officers were clubbing a man who lay crumpled on the pavement. I sighed, then went and sat back down and found my place in the book – sea nymphs with red seaweed hair were sunning themselves on the ledges of seaside cliffs.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of THE DEATH ROW SHUFFLE, a poetry collection forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.
Jul
Found And Lost
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’d seen her at the bar at least twenty times before. This time I told her “There are better drinks at my place. Please join me.”
She followed me to my apartment. After a round, she walked into my bedroom. When I followed her, I saw one of the few women who looked better naked than dressed. She told me what she wanted; I did my best to deliver, and enjoyed every minute of it.
The next day I went back to the bar. Everyone there claimed that no one like her had ever been there. I doubt my sanity.
From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley
Jul
Troubles
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Covid-19 has taken a toll on my social life. The quarantine has me cooped up other than grocery shopping or a drive, and I miss the sounds of my friends boisterous laughs when we joke about men while watching romance movies chomping on popcorn.
Reading a novel with my feet up, the same words stare at me. I toss the book aside and pace, when a tapping on the back door distracts my thoughts. I look outside and a black kitten is on the patio meowing.
I forget all my troubles when I step outside and pet this adorable animal.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
The Homes Of Birds (Nature Contest Winner)
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m very excited to present the winner of our Nature Flash Fiction Contest, from regular contributor Brook Bhagat. Someone might look at the strange format and say it’s more of a poem than a short story, but my favorite poems are the ones that tell a story as well. Plus I liked it so this is the one I’m choosing. Congratulations Brook! And thanks to everyone who participated. A lot of great stories.
I understand the funeral I have the address the dress the time
it begins with smiling cameras and ends with paper tablecloths, cold cuts and deviled eggs downstairs
even worse is the sunshine, all those empty minutes left
I would have lost it
if not
For the hike, still in our black together,
you and Ben, the boy,
me and my sister arm in arm
down the easy path at
Garden of the Gods,
lighter than before, noticing the homes
of birds in the rocks and remembering
we are just a moment, fragments
of a mystery that flies and sings.
From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat
Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror Magazine, Harbinger Asylum, Little India, Rat’s Ass Review, Lotus-Eater Magazine, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. She and her husband Gaurav created Blue Planet Journal, which she edits and writes for. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University, teaches creative writing at a community college, and is writing a novel. Her poetry collection, Only Flying, is due out Nov. 16, 2021 from Unsolicited Press. See more at brook-bhagat.com or reach her on Twitter at @BrookBhagat.
Stay tuned for an announcement soon about our next contest!
Jun
The Squeaky Gate
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Carol heard the front gate creak; someone had come into the garden. “Who could it be? Who is out at midnight?” The doorbell rang. She quickly put on her bathrobe and started for the door, then hesitated. Should she answer it? What if someone wanted to harm her?
Carol slowly cracked the door and saw her mother standing there.
“Mom! What are you doing here?”
“Promise me you will take care of your brother.”
Her mother turned and walked away.
The next morning Carol learned that her mother had died of a heart attack the night before at 11 pm.
From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius
Jun
Flying Dancers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She dances with the leaves on this late autumn night. They rise, fall, crackle, swoop back into the air, without reflection about their falls. No signs of injury. No self-pity.
She envies the leaves. They can fly from words.
Too artistic, dark, can’t you be happy? Go to this party. Go to that party with your father. Stand straight, watch your gait. Smile. Writing’s a waste of time.
The words float in her mind like sickly alphabet cereal. But another curtain of leaves showers her. She twirls, the leaves dancing with her, sky and street opening wider than ever before.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, and Ariel Chart, among others.
Jun
To Her
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The forest had darkened with overgrown conifers. At a fork the man made a guess taking the less trodden trail.
Raucous ravens accompanied his steps. When he encountered a dead end without seeing the landmark he sought to see, he realized his mistake.
Back at the fork sadness overwhelmed his senses. He no longer was motivated to continue the walk and returned to his car.
He raised a bottle of water to her memory, vowing to try again. He’ll find that bench. The place of memories. Where he took restful breaks and she, his retriever, would wait at his feet.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.