Posts Tagged ‘Home’


Unlucky Fate

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

After six months of recovery in the hospital from my car accident, I’m finally going home.

I walk outside into the fresh air, taking deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling. I can’t stand the musty air in hospitals. My cell rings distracting me from my happy moment and I answer it.

“Hey, Charlie, I heard you’re discharged today.”

“Yeah, I’m on my way home as we speak.”

As I’m crossing the street, I walk straight into an oncoming car. People gather around me as I’m on the ground unable to move.

I guess I won’t be enjoying my own bed tonight.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher


Grief Group

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“It’s only been eleven months,” said the other woman afterwards.

“This’ll probably surprise you.”

“You’re attracted to one of the guys in our group?”

“Ha! No, what I miss most is the comfortable, predictable ways Ben and I had. But real love? It disappeared years ago.”

“Real love? You don’t know how lucky you were!”

“Yeah. Part of me likes being on my own again. Still…”

“So you’ll go for the passion next time?”

“Next time? My libido’s semi-retired. So I think it’d be more like us both coming home from work, and just drinking wine together at day’s end.”

From Guest Contributor Gerald Kamens


Rain Day

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I stare out the window watching the torrents of rain pound the leaves on my maple tree and listen to the ferocious wind hit against the siding of my house. My dog Patty barks and scratches the windowpane. I pull her next to me on the couch and rub her stomach, the only thing that soothes her. Roads are closed due to flooding and I’m stuck at home.

I had an argument with my boss yesterday about not getting enough time off. Now I’m home and bored out of my mind watching the clock.

It’s funny how things turn out.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher


Next Time

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Every time that bastard comes home, he sweet talks me and tells me things will be different and like a complete fool I take him back and then I get pregnant and he takes off again for a year or two.

I swear to God the next time he shows his face around here I’m going to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, knock him out long enough to pack a bag and clear out for a couple of years myself, leave him to take care of three kids with no help, see how he likes it.

From Guest Contributor Simon Hole


There Hangs The Sword

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

There hangs the sword, the one handed down from father, to son, to me, the symbol of my family, the defender of our home, the weapon that has slain hundreds, that fought for our homeland in the long war, and struck fear into our enemies, the blade that was retired but never allowed to dull, that was laid to rest but never sheathed, that was put on display as a reminder to all future interlopers this house will forever be vigilant, there is the sword even now, still hanging there, as I slowly bleed out on the floor below it.


Caught In The Fury

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

One came at him from behind, another from the side. The assault started only minutes ago yet to him it felt longer.

He recalled his father’s war experiences. How as a mere twenty-year-old he was expected to carry out his country’s mission. The horror of losing many close friends while he was able to return home haunted him to the end of his life.

The present situation was nowhere as difficult as his father’s. The opponent stalled, giving him the chance to counterattack.

He leaped into a pile of paper, shaped sheets into airplanes. Aimed at his son.

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.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He felt he’d been travelling. Couldn’t be sure. His memory was as misty as the panorama. It looked like Kiev: all those domed churches. How would I know that? The question hung there, unspoken. The answer ignored it.

He looked down at shapely legs and high-heels. What the–

The world spun. Elise was a woman: always had been. The last thing she remembered was the headache at Lloyds. Oh God…work. Did I walk out?

She reached into her handbag. Passport, cash, credit cards…no tickets.

She determined to make a doctor’s appointment the minute she got home.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


Hospital Song

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

They need to run more tests but Dad pleads, “I want to go home.” This man who built houses can’t stand by himself to pee.

I sit two hours with him daily, passing my sisters or brother in the hall on either end of the visit. We touch hands, squeeze.

A curled little old man under layers of cabinet-warmed blankets, he’s shaking, all ice-blue eyes and Viking-white beard under sunken cheeks.

Television is election chaos. No help there. I realize what’s on my iPad, close his door, crank its volume: Dad and Bob Dylan, gravel-throated friends, a hospital bed duet.

From Guest Contributor Tjorven



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Things had been bad: misfortune compounding until he just couldn’t face going home. He’d stopped the car near a wooded area; pulled a handgun out of the glove compartment; and started walking, not even bothering to lock up.

Struggling through ground cover, not worrying about the poison ivy, Billy eventually happened upon a path. He followed it, wanting to ensure he was out of earshot, lest he somehow fluff it and be saved.

The revelation of his resolution brought him to a halt and heightened his senses. The colours of the foliage throbbed like an LSD trip, contrarily grounding him.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was 22. He wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t sure if he was the one. At the time, it seemed like an easy decision. We weren’t married, and I had just started a new job. I was young. I could get pregnant again. Right! Besides, I wanted to be married first, then after a few years have a baby or two. That made more sense. Children should have a stable home. Right? I’m an attractive, intelligent woman, I’ll meet someone who wants a family. But leaving the clinic that day, it never became apparent, that I would never conceive again.

From Guest Contributor Dana Sterner

Dana is a Registered Nurse and Professional Writer. She has written for regional and national magazines, and continues to write in many different genres.