Posts Tagged ‘Happiness’
Jan
The Lord Loves Me
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The Lord loves me even though I don’t love myself.
Not every day goes great. But when I pray, I pray for joy and happiness.
The wife comes and yells, “your lazy butt still sitting in that darn chair?”
“Just talkin’ to the Lord for a moment.”
A bolt of lightning makes us both jump and her fall to her knees.
“No, David,” she yells, “not a storm. We need the tomatoes to bloom, you old fool.”
The second bolt of lightning enters the house and her skull.
I smile, realizing even the weather listens when I talk to God.
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
E. Barnes has works published in The Purple Pen, The Haven, Spillwords, Centina Pentina, A Story In 100 Words and the anthology NanoNightmares.
Feb
My Setting Sun
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We sit on the beach watching a summer sunset, foamy saltwater encroaching upon our bare toes. Distant mountains cut jagged lines in the sky. We’re laughing, your warm arm around my shoulders. I glow in your rare happiness, believing you’ll stay with me always.
I sense you withdrawing as the sun sinks behind the mountains, air chilling as the golden orb dwindles. Just before it disappears, my soul cries: don’t fade away, don’t leave.
The sun pauses, a yolk balancing on the highest peak.
The moment breaks. Your arm falls from my shoulders.
My soul aches as the sun vanishes.
From Guest Contributor Katla Watersin
Mar
How High The Moon
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Many years have passed since both horrific creatures, Count Dracula and the Wolf Man, fell over the cliff’s edge, plummeting into the sea below. Never seen or heard from again.
But as it was said, time and wars proceeded to pass throughout the globe. While this cursed man’s battle never ends.
Witness the horrors of a desperate man that defines new meanings such as, love and happiness, for his restful end.
If only that where true. To finally have my soul released from this misery, this burden… This curse.
I then chuckle, before frantically saying…
But, I can never die.
From Guest Contributor Jason Jenkover
Jul
Inner Child
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A child’s world view is often slanted, by life’s gifts he often took for granted.
Too innocent, young to understand, the gift of true love portends to be grand.
Oh how I wish up to this day, my present happiness could be measured by play.
Fragile psyche as to when as a child came to harm, leads to a life often seen without charm.
The troubles of this life to which I often succumb, often seem monumental in task to overcome .
Having paid over again at a magnanimous cost, will I regain that which I know I have lost?
From Guest Contributor Christopher Baker
Nov
Her Sacred Space
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sammy was buried in the garden, behind a shed. Rose stepped daily over a trail meandering between overgrown shrubs to get there.
She told Sammy how dearly she missed him. How her life lacked happiness, excepting visits from grandchildren.
They would’ve delighted seeing him. But it was different for them. They lived elsewhere in town. Their lives filled with interests young people sought.
Only when Rose died did her grandchildren realize her loneliness. Close to the burial ground, hidden under debris, they uncovered a stash of cigarette ends.
Undoubtedly saturated with the tears she shed for her beloved Chihuahua, Sammy.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
Apr
Burning Uncertainty
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
My elder sister Tanya and I burn portraits of Nicholas, watching his solemn eyes melting. Melting, melting. Flames envelop his beard, rising into the night sky.
“To the Revolution,” she proclaims. “We’ll be happy again.”
“To happiness,” I proclaim. I hug Tanya. She smells of sweat and oil and victory.
I wonder what will come next. We’ve lost homes and positions, slaved in Siberia. She was a teacher and I, a writer. Those positions are in the past, though.
Will we be of use? Or will the Revolution brand us too bourgeois?
I wish the picture wouldn’t burn so fast.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, 50 Word Stories, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.
Nov
Happiness In Heaven
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I walk down the abandoned streets as the slightest beam of light begins to brighten the unlit sky. The brisk wind forces a stubborn tear to stream down the side of my cheek and crystallizes from the absence of warmth. In the fog filled skies of New York City, I take my last exploration before I restart my life. I stumble down the stairs that stand before me and I make my way into a desolate tunnel that fills with light the longer I wait. A loud horn echoes. I guess now is my time to fly away from here.
From Guest Contributor Lilia Onstott
Lilia is an English student at Pikes Peak Community College. She spends her free time by allowing her mind to express itself within many artistic fields, like writing, photography, and music.
Apr
The Night’s Hope For A Better Tomorrow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dreams projected on a ceiling from a restless mind. A vision of a better tomorrow plays from the imagination onto the stucco. With pleading hope for happiness to join the rising sun, the reality of sadness can be temporarily cast aside. Muscles relax and the burden lessens with the promise. Eyes close and colors dance a firefly ballet on the back of eyelids. Fantasies and nightmares disturb the slumber but recede with the buzz of an alarm clock. Golden rays of butterscotch pour through the glass and warm the face. I rise, we all rise… with hope in our hearts.
From Guest Contributor Jordan Altman
Feb
Supermarket Sleep
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Wednesdays, post-second shift, bone-marrow tired, Kyra grocery-shopped. To stay alert, she categorized customers, itemized their purchases.
First: class, marital status, number of kids, happiness level. Pony-tailed woman opposite Kyra? Pinching pants tight in the crotch? Must be married ten years; barely making do managing odd-lots store; two sucrose-loving preteens; miserable as a mutt, minus flea collar, August.
Cart contents: Pony tail and family down waffles, wings, PB & J, rolls, store-brand sherbet, Bud, Coke.
Kyra’d be sad, eating that.
Pulled leggings, smoothed hair. Double-take: her mirrored reflection! She’d best snap out of this, load check-out counter. Be on her way.
From Guest Contributor Iris N. Schwartz
Iris is a fiction and nonfiction writer, as well as a Pushcart-Prize-nominated poet. Her work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in such journals as Bindweed Magazine, Connotation Press, The Flash Fiction Press, Jellyfish Review, Quail Bell Magazine, and Random Sample Review.
Feb
The Never Ending Work
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She looked at him constantly, with eyes full of stories, desires, and expectations.
He was not used to it. Nervous, he kept ignoring her.
She called to him. Scared, he turned back to look.
She murmured, “Gimme an hour of happiness.” He saw she was wearing a sari, shabbily tied, covering her sparsely. Her eyes were full of coal, lips beaming out in red. She was wearing socks in Calcutta summers. He could not stop himself from questioning her.
She smiled and replied that it was the only piece of clothing that she didn’t have to take off to work.
From Guest Contributor Manmeet Chadha