Posts Tagged ‘Hospital’
Apr
Paul
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Paul was proud of his bike.
When Mabel walked home after school, he sped past her, throwing some sly remark. Showing off. His grin stuck with her and played havoc with evening homework.
Sometime later, Mabel didn’t see him riding his bike. She didn’t see him at all in school.
Curious, she decided to walk a different route home; past his parents’ house. In the garbage put out for collection was Paul’s crumpled bike.
“Your mom told me about the accident.” Mabel said at the hospital.
“Thanks for visiting,” Paul answered. “No one else from school did.”
They exchanged smiles.
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.
Apr
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
Oct
Infinite Summer
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
God had bleached everything. The shattering sky. Erin’s face. Even our baby’s perfect hands were white.
Tiny, frozen fingers assail the windshield while Erin shivers in the passenger seat. I ease the gas pedal cautiously, hesitantly–-coaxing a reluctant lover.
Tires slip and I wonder if it would be so bad, sliding to our end in ice and pavement. Why not, with the cold body of our almost baby left at the hospital?
Erin clutches her abdomen, lingering reflex, and whispers the name I refuse to remember. The name we picked when the world was warmer and life infinite summer.
From Guest Contributor Sierra Donahue
Oct
An Ending, A Beginning
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dr. Philippa Marsden awoke with a start, the hard cold wood of her desk on her forehead. She clasped her hands to either side of her head, as if she was trying to hold her splitting headache prisoner. Her breath wheezed through her pursed mouth, but the fever was gone.
“Jonathan?” He lay on the floor, white coat stained with blood, stethoscope laying beside him like a dead snake. Pulse? None.
Philippa ran from ward to ward, the cacophony of the previous night replaced by silence. Pulse? None. Repeat. She ran outside to the street..
“HELLO! ANYONE?” Nothing but silence.
From Guest Contributor Ross Clement
May
Ruby’s Incontinence
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“You’re such an asshole Chuck,” the back-braced senior citizen Ruby said as Chuck held the Stanford Medical Center elevator door open for her with one arm, balancing seven incontinence pads in his left.
Chuck smiled and pushed floor one.
“We’re parked in the basement you idiot.”
“I knew that, dear. I wanted to show you every floor so I’d get my money’s worth. $75,000 to fix a damned hernia.”
“You’d rather I be in pain, jerk?”
“Hmm… tough question.”
“Proves my point.”
“I love you enough to tolerate your usual grumpiness at the hospital.”
“Of course you do. You would.”
From Guest Contributor Jay Paul
Feb
Street Life
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
November spreads gray across sticky sidewalks as acrid smoke from burn barrels warms frigid hands and stings sleep-weary eyes. Winos huddle wary knowing tempers can flare as quickly as last week’s newspapers tossed in the fires. On the streets a life is worth a pint of Mad Dog. Desperate men commit despicable acts for a drink. Women trade sex and dignity for comfort under blankets. Robert the Shank holds jagged metal to a girl’s throat. Bettie slams a bottle against his ear. He cuts her bad. An ambulance takes her to County. She smiles bleeding, thinking of a clean bed.
From Guest Contributor, Jeff Switt
Jeff is a retired advertising agency guy who loves writing flash fiction—some days to curb his angst, other days to fuel it. His words have been featured at Dogzplot, Boston Literary Review, Flash Fiction World, Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, and Shotgun Honey, and have appeared at lots of places that take whatever you send in.
Jan
The Dream World
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Lesley entered the dream world for the first time the night after the accident. She fell asleep in her hospital room with the aid of painkillers and woke up to find she could walk again.
It is common for people to have their first experience of the dream world after an unexpected trauma. The sudden vulnerability allows them to touch aspects of reality our minds try to keep hidden.
Our greatest heroes are usually those who navigate the dangers of the dream world and become something greater than they were.
Lesley was not one of those. She died almost immediately.
Dec
The Tablet Manifesto
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The figure appeared out of the fog covered in blood and carrying a large stone tablet. He made it only a few steps towards us, then collapsed.
He was dead before he could be taken to the hospital and he would never be identified. The tablet was remanded into our possession.
At first, we thought it was just a blank piece of stone, but when examined under a microscope, a lengthy manifesto was discovered. It had been recorded in several languages in succession. After careful translation, the meaning became clear.
Boiled down, it read, “Stop being assholes to each other.”
Jul
Citizen Watch
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Let me start by saying nowhere in the United States is it illegal to film the police in public spaces. I’m sure if you asked Quincy Adams, he would tell you acting as a watchdog against an intrusive government is not only your right but your patriotic duty.
So I took to following cops in the neighborhood with my video camera.
I didn’t last an hour. They must have put in a call to their buddies, because suddenly I was surrounded. They beat me straight into the hospital.
Needless to say, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Apr
Carrier’s Cross Hospital For Charitable Cases
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Only the poorest, most unfortunate souls go to die at Carrier’s Cross Hospital For Charitable Cases. But die they do.
The institution instills such fear into the neighboring denizens that they suffer severed limbs and advanced stages of the most grisly diseases rather than cross its threshold.
Nurse Wembley laments their reputation, for every one of the doctors and custodians care for their charges with the utmost diligence. Most are in fact volunteers, as they receive only the tiniest contributions from the city.
The majority of their budget, therefore, must come from selling cadavers to Carrier’s Cross Butchery and Deli.