Posts Tagged ‘House’


The Final Letter

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Thelma raced to the door when she heard the clang of the mailbox. She looked forward to the mail. It gave her hope on these bleak days. Only one envelope today. It was from PFC Herman Davis, dated July 14, 1944.

She ran back in the house, her hands shaking. The screen door bounced closed behind her. “Jesse, Jesse,” she called for her husband. It was too soon. She just buried Freeman last week.

“What’s wrong,” Jesse asked.

“Here, here,” she said handing him the envelope.

Jesse instantly knew what it was. This was Freeman’s last letter before he died.

From Guest Contributor David W. Cofer



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Through the fog and overgrowth that chokes the front yard, an eruption of tulips grows on either side of the doorway, an invitation to visitors that stopped visiting decades ago. They are the only splash of color on the otherwise gray facade of the crumpling structure that used to be a house.

Tulips once required cold weather to survive. Somehow these plants learned to adapt, and are now in flower nearly year round. A stark contrast to the failure of civilization all around them. Were anyone still alive who could understand, there’s a metaphor to be found in those plants.


Preparing For The Afterlife

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Sally spent most of her days cleaning. She polished and buffed and wiped her way through every room in the house, until it was time to start all over again. The dwelling wasn’t that cluttered either. She was just extremely thorough in her routine.

Matt, her husband, had argued they should hire a cleaning service, but Sally believed it was her responsibility. He eventually gave up and left her to it. It seemed to make her happy.

Sally took more care with her possessions than she did with herself. Perhaps because she knew they would someday be all that remained.


Last Days Of Summer

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Charles Delany stepped off the horse and buggy. In front of him a white
shingled wood house with a porch, surrounded by an abundance of trees,
overlooked the ocean. He removed his hat and walked slowly up the
pathway to the porch. He sat on the wooden bench and took it all in,
listening to the waves slapping against the fishing dock.

“Okay, son, this’ll be your home for the summer. The doctor said the
fresh air and trees are good for your condition.”

Charles nodded and when his father walked away, he coughed clumps of red
into his handkerchief.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher


A Troop Of Mushrooms

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Stephanie didn’t know who else to call, so she called the exterminator. She was vague over the phone, preferring him to see the infestation for himself. His condescending tone annoyed her.

When he arrived, the condescension immediately turned to terror.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

So they brought in an expert from the university. He surveyed Stephanie’s house and proclaimed it a colony, though he admitted he’d never seen human-sized toadstools before. He suspected they were deadly.

Stephanie wasn’t paying attention to his diagnosis. She couldn’t get over the fact he kept pronouncing fungi with a soft gee.


Sweet Memory

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The girls play hopscotch, the one sister’s hair bounces in rhythm to her skips. She giggles and bends to pick up the rock, balancing her leg in the air. She wins, and they play again and again, until the sky opens, drenching them. Hand in hand they run home with their mouths open tasting rain drops. Entering the house, their mother yells for them to take off their wet sneakers and leave them by the door.

They kick off their sneakers and socks.

In the kitchen there’s the sweet smell of chocolate chip cookies.

Eighty-five-year-old Cindy smiles at the memory.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Toxic chemicals from a nearby factory contaminated Mr. Williams farm. Every year sixty-foot tall corn would grow. The farmhouse and barn are not affected and deemed safe.

A cornstalk opens sideways and reveals a mouth and eyes. Its husk legs can move up and down quickly but have a hard time moving forward. It extends its husk to reach for a wagon, but spots a unicycle and grabs that. The giant cornstalk rides towards the house.

Mr. Williams’s wife Ruth hears something and looks out the window, then screams.

“What is it?” her husband asks.

“It’s a unicorn,” says Ruth.

From Guest Contributor Denny E. Marshall


Wear Me Down

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The shavings scattered as he coughed, revealing how little actual progress had been made in the last thirty minutes. The brace still protruded from the floor enough to be noticed.

His wife’s admonishments occupied him as he filed. It was always her way, whenever she made a mistake, to look for any way to shift the blame elsewhere. Better still if she could pin him as the culprit. So when she’d tripped on the uneven joining between the foyer and kitchen, she yelled at him. Who cares the house had come that way.

He’d given up fighting back decades ago.


The Bodies Are Piling Up

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

She killed another overnight. Now what, she thought, as she headed to the woods with the dead body. She had to be careful not to draw carrion eaters near her house, that would lead to other problems.

How many did this make, four, five, six? She lost count. Meaningless lives, they disgusted her. No one would miss them. Any of them. How many more would she have to kill before she could sleep soundly? She stopped and thought. Five dead, she was sure now, then proceeded to open the mouse trap and let the lifeless body fall to the ground.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin


The Other Side Of Obsession

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Nothing was as he remembered. Not the walk, with the chipped and uneven flagstones, nor the dusty, desiccated garden, nor the house itself. The two decades had ravaged the property and Stephen immediately regretted its purchase.

As a youth, his mother brought him here on Saturdays. He’d sit in the chamber to the rear of the kitchen reading library books, hoping the owner’s children failed to notice his presence.

The Packards had long since moved on to a much more modern estate. It seemed he was still trying to catch up in a race only he knew they were running.