Posts Tagged ‘Heart’


La Piedra

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was once asked a question. In fact, it was the most important question in the history of the world.

The question was so immense that it should have been saved for God himself in the afterlife.

It covered love and hate and fact and fiction and everyone and everything at once.

Naturally, I wanted to answer, but my throat froze and my eyes turned to stone like those of a statue. If my heart throbbed, I wasn’t there enough to feel it.

Honestly, how’s a piece of shit like me supposed to know if everything happens for a reason?

From Guest Contributor Branko Tubic



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I freeze at the crossing, not because of the cold, but at how a stranger walks.

Even the musculature of her legs reminds me of Sandy. For a moment her profile ensnares my heart. Then she looks in my direction, questioning without expecting an answer. She doesn’t break stride.

We’d made a pact to run away together: escape doldrums and parental tyranny…to find adventure in The City. We’d agreed to rendezvous here. I’d been waiting more than an hour.

I set off alone, annoyed when her name escaped my lips; and admonished myself that I never really knew her.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Gary’s gasping two-hand tap against the wall earned second place in the breaststroke. Pete had less time to breathe.

First in the butterfly – their final high school triumph shared.

Later, they met in the shower. Whispers were overpowered by streaming water.

Gary’s kiss goodbye burned as a beloved’s should.

“You’re sure? My heart…so damn broken.” A lump choked his every word.

“Me, too.” Gary held him. “But we’ll be one thousand miles apart.”

Later, Pete laid in the tall grass behind the aquatic center. Silver-voiced male cicadas polished their mating song in desperation, chanting for a miracle.

From Guest Contributor Embe Charpentier


Apple Of His Eye

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I see the favor he shows him and it sickens me. Everything seems to be given so freely in this world. And here is one after his own heart, obeying without even the slightest hesitation, never once questioning the directions he is given. There was a time when I was a follower, but I had ambition and drive. He couldn’t take it. Some may call it punishment, but I like to think of it as enlightenment. If this fool won’t come to his senses, perhaps that nice new companion can be swayed. I see the way she eyes that apple.

From Guest Contributor Nicholas Froumis

Nicholas practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared in Gravel, Right Hand Pointing, Dime Show Review, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Ground Fresh Thursday, Balloons Lit Journal, and Short Tale 100. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was eighteen when I met you. I did not like you. When I was nineteen – I kissed you. My feelings changed. When I was twenty – I slept in your arms. My heart changed. When I was twenty-one I slept with you. I did not love you. You broke my heart for the first time. It healed.

Twenty years later, you still call. My heart has been sewn, ripped apart, and patched back together. It has been systematically desensitized from your ploys and is now just existing somewhere between my stomach and lungs. Biological in space yet empty in soul.

From Guest Contributor Lindsey Stevens


Woman In Silhouette

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I still remember the night when you left me, air thick with mist, the full moon hanging low like a moth in a tomb of cobwebs. Your deceitful voice was floating like paint fumes, stretching through the void.

«Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be back in a bit,» you said, kissing my forehead with stone-cold lips, smoothing my braids with moist and stiff hands.

Time has swallowed hundreds of full moons ever since, its belly round and black, cradled my sleepwalking heart, watched your features fading away from my memory. Now there’s nothing left of you but a woman in silhouette…

From Guest Contributor Cristina Iuliana Burlacu


Love Be The Devil, But It Won’t Get Me

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

We were watching the show from a splintered, weathered picnic table in front of the big stage at The Shack when she told me she was leaving me. It was midnight, but it was still a hundred degrees out and sweat rolled down my face and into my eyes as she walked away. The Burnside boys were singing their brand of gritty, corn liquor soaked blues. My heart thudded in my chest like it was threatening to make an appearance but the toes of my boots kept tapping the dirt and eventually I threw my head back and sang along.

From Guest Contributor Sarah Reddick

Sarah Reddick is a writer who is currently in the MFA program at Lindenwood University in St. Charles, Missouri. Her work has appeared in Cattywampus Magazine, Salt Zine, The Local Voice, and the Mid Rivers Review.


About Hearts

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

She told him he had no heart. He was shocked.

Didn’t she appreciate his help? He opened doors whenever she carried heaped laundry baskets. At mealtimes, he cleared the table and piled dishes in the sink.

Not fair! He planned to prove her wrong.

When dinner was ready, he called her over. She was surprised. Said he had a huge heart to spend hours fixing that gourmet meal. He was speechless.

In the outdoor trash lay packaging from the foods he presented. Topped with a heart-shaped box of chocolates. It got crushed by a car after falling off his bike.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.


Abraham Lincoln Watching Django Unchained For The First Time

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The producers were expecting some strong reactions as the movie reached its climax. The violence was among the most graphic they had ever seen. But when their star guest collapsed, all the executives fell into a stunned silence.

“Is he all right?”

One of the marketing interns knelt to feel his pulse. “His heart has stopped.”

No one thought to call a doctor. The cover up began immediately.

“Luckily, he was shot just a few weeks after we picked him up. History shouldn’t be too affected.”

Everyone nodded in agreement but, in true Hollywood fashion, it was just wishful thinking.


The Pesto of Love

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Jasper Bains had not meant to invent a love potion. He had an excess of macadamia nuts and fresh tarragon; it seemed a good idea to make pesto from them.

Every customer of Jasper’s Specialty Foods who bought some returned hand in hand with a new customer. Business was booming.

Jasper spread pesto on crackers and gave them to a frowning brown-haired woman and a young man who’d shot shy glances at her. Eyes met eyes and the winter cold was forgotten.

Jasper’s heart skipped a beat when Genevieve walked in, but he hid the pesto. That would be cheating.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement