Posts Tagged ‘Horizon’
Jan
Sunflowers On The Horizon
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rows of sunflowers spread across the horizon, tiny flames of color against a burnt-out sky. Megan ducks away from the window, hoping she wasn’t spotted.
“They’re coming closer.”
Charles scrambles on hands and knees from room to room, locking each door without standing up, praying the bolts will be enough to keep them safe.
“I’m scared.”
Megan ignores his cowardice, once again apologizing to her inner voice for ignoring its many warnings that an RPG podcaster would not make a good husband.
“Just shut up and go get the pesticide from the garage. I have some sunflowers to murder.”
Sep
A Ladder To The Stars
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
For him the past was a story trove, for me it was a series of embarrassments that woke up and lingered like morning phlegm.
My brother tells another story on our porch. I notice how night falls earlier in mid-August. How the North Star rises off the horizon. How it calls me like a conjurer in an epic fantasy.
My brother will stay in this town and rise. He’ll talk about how the band played Forever Young at his graduation and he knew he was destined. But who will tell the story of that morning when I woke and wandered?
From Guest Contributor Dave Nash
Sep
One Step
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
On the borders of this serene land lay a dark shadow formed from a massive structure built on the ruins of another once-great civilization. It often feels like an ominous storm cloud in an otherwise starry sky.
The people of this land continue to work on the tower in the hope of one day reaching the heavens. To be reunited with their ancestors dancing within constellations.
On this glorious night, as the sun sets, dark clouds dissipate; the moon rises on the horizon, filling the entire night sky with dangerous possibilities as they come one step closer to the stars.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Dec
Under The Rainbow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
For an instant, just before noticing the new bank of threatening clouds conspiring on the darkened horizon, it seemed like everyone knew how to think, knew what to think; everyone knew how to feel. No one could take their eyes off the rainbow until it faded—as all rainbows always do—and the first few burning drops of the new and far more furious downpour, promising only flood, destruction, and despair appeared.
By the time the storm reached its new-found fury, everyone had given up seeking shelter. No one had any recollection whatsoever of anything even vaguely resembling a rainbow
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Ron. Lavalette’s many published works, including his debut chapbook, Fallen Away, can be found HERE.
Oct
Queue For Killing Time
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Mow lawn with toenail clipper; count sand. Invite spiders to tea party; pretend you’re the Mad Hatter.
Adopt imaginary twins; cry when they say their first word (“quarantine”); ransack new recipes to quiet their insatiable hunger; crank open doors and windows; demonstrate how to run fingers over wild, overgrown grass; bike them to beach; build castles, mermaids, moats; inhale salty ocean air; watch fire-red sun sink into horizon.
Lift face to pale moon and marvel, “Isn’t it crazy that there are more stars in the sky than all the grains of sand on earth?”
Time killed, savor moment without end.
From Guest Contributor Michelle Wilson
Michelle’s words have appeared in 50-Word Stories, 101 Words, Literally Stories, The Miami Herald, and elsewhere. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida.
Jun
Love You Till The End
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
I’d never seen a more glorious sunset, even after a tornado. Half the sky was a golden yellow and the clouds above the sun were skeins of vermilion fire. Even the orange flames on the horizon dulled in comparison. Dust in the air; much of it probably radioactive.
We had come out of the root cellar, its door fortunately hidden by an overgrown raspberry patch, where we’d hidden from marauding mobs that had fled the cities, and hidden again when the pursuing troops began shelling. Our house and outbuildings were charred skeletons, the animals gone. We were still holding hands.
From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann
Mar
There’s Something The Matter With The Sea
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We all got off the coach and headed for the beach. The couple who’d sat across from us stripped to reveal their swimsuits, like a superhero duo. I told Dad on the sand, but he seemed distracted, staring into the horizon.
‘I think there’s something the matter with the sea,’ he said.
Mum told him to cut it out. He nodded, patted me on the shoulder and turned back towards her.
The water was warm, like a bath. That was our second clue. ‘Don’t worry,’ the news anchor had said at breakfast. ‘Hurricane Katrina isn’t expected to cause much damage.’
From Guest Contributor Robert Keal
Feb
The Sparkle On The Horizon
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There was a sparkle on the horizon.
It was the only thing keeping him alive. He’d run out of water hours ago, lost his horse soon thereafter, and even destroyed one of his boots when its heel broke off as he attempted kicking through the cracked ground in search of any remnants of moisture. He’d probably lost his sanity at that point too, but who was keeping track?
Yet there was that sparkle. No matter how many steps forward he took, the sparkle remained in place, forever out of reach.
He kept walking anyway. Hope was all he had left.
Aug
Duty And Thoughts Of Alisen
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A sweep of peach graced the western sky…maybe. Sleep deprived, he couldn’t really be sure. Vision might be compromised, eyes too bloodshot to discern the ambiguous purity of grey dragging the downpour along the horizon.
And the windows were filthy.
Sunday eyed him from the corner, placid gaze sharpening as her head rose from his Nike, quasi-spaghetti dangling from open maw.
He identified with the drool-laden laces.
“Curious passion,” he said, observing the dog…but thinking of Alisen.
Sunday growled, mouthing the trainer, front paws tensed and backside hoisted by her wagging tail. Play and a walk.
Duty called.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jun
Double Down
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dave peered from his bunker across the smoldering horizon. He refused to cry.
That charred skeleton of masonry and rebar had once been home. People he knew had died in those streets, now nothing more than corpses and ruin.
After the initial wave of destruction came the pestilence and blight. The rotting skin and miracle pleas suggested a biblical retribution was at hand. The metaphor was on everyone’s lips, but Dave clamored against it. He blamed the whining snowflakes who refused to accept they had lost.
Dave remained certain. This outcome was still better than if she had been elected.