Posts Tagged ‘Husband’
Jun
Ghost Milk
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Before going back to the backyard she checked on her husband and her two-month-old kid who were fast asleep. The bed was undone, the dishes were huddled up in the sink unwashed, the rugs were clumsily rolled up. She knew that the child would wake up in an hour exactly. Those midnight crying fits. Last Sunday the infant was inconsolably crying, craving for milk, while she was in the backyard. She wanted to feed him, but couldn’t. Her breasts were heavy with ghost milk. The newspaper on the table read, “Delhi woman electrocuted by wet electric pole in the backyard.”
From Guest Contributor Anindita Sarkar
May
Homer
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Marjorie and her husband Herbert thought that names were important. When their first child was born, they named him Homer in hopes that some day he would be a major-league baseball player. Herbert used to laugh at the concept even while he predicted that Homer would be inspired by his suggestive name.
When Homer was three, Herbert bought him a baseball bat. Then it was Little League and high-school baseball and finally the college baseball team. Marjorie and Herbert were ecstatic; their dream was coming true.
In the end Homer majored in Classics and wrote an epic poem in Greek.
From Guest Contributor Anita G. Gorman
May
A Picture Of Him
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rain came in through the window, but she didn’t move to close it. Her eyes were fixated on the picture of her late husband.
His toothy grin, unkempt hair, and the obnoxious Rolling Stones t-shirt brought a smile to her face. She had forgotten how goofy he could be when taking a photo. He had the complete inability to be serious when a camera was pointed at him. The various ridiculous poses and his exaggerated grins came to mind and made her chuckle to herself.
She gently traced his face with her fingertip as tears glided down her cheeks.
From Guest Contributor Zane Castillo
Apr
Lady Macbeth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
Life had become so boring, so beige boring. Every day it was hound the maids, light the candles, greet the guests. Then along came prophecy! What’s not to believe about a witch, let alone three? Once again, my world oozed with possibility.
What came to pass? Life in red, gushing red. There was blood in the soup, blood in the stew, blood on the hands of my husband. I thought about the plagues in Egypt, the Pharaoh who knew about miracles turned against him. I thought about science. That what flows, surely ebbs? While the old king’s blood ran blue.
From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe
Linda Lowe’s poems and stories have appeared in Gone Lawn, Crack the Spine, What Rough Beast, New Verse News, Tiny Molecules and others.
Apr
God Bless America
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
He was met by his family at the Orlando airport after 12 long months of active duty.
Captain Steven Hooks was a free man. Now that the Army didn’t need him anymore, he could get back to being a husband and a father and re-open his dental practice.
Gloria, his wife, suggested a movie for his first night home. They gave the kids baths, dressed them in cozy pajamas, and loaded them into the station wagon.
Upon arriving at the booth he handed the cashier the money but she wouldn’t take it.
“Sorry, but this drive-in is for whites only.”
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
E. has works published at Entropy, Spillwords, The Purple Pen, The Haven, and several works are in the anthology, “NanoNightmares.”
Apr
Easter Sunday
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Through the window, the sun beams against my face. It’s Easter Sunday and the family will be arriving this evening. I haven’t seen my cousins since the Covid-19 quarantine and we’re all nervous. Do we need to wear masks to avoid breathing on each other, I wonder? We didn’t discuss it, so my husband and I will take our chances.
The food is prepared and cooking on the stove. The lamb and spices fill the room with a delectable aroma and I’m leaning against the counter sipping wine.
I drop my glass when the doorbell rings. I can’t do it.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Apr
Divorced
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m the son of divorce to the neighborhood. Parents keep me from their children. They don’t know my pedigree, they claim. Nothing against me personally.
They know about Dad and his liaisons. They slander over smiles and Sinatra. Mother’s a “hysteric.” Can’t keep a husband. Son’s a bastard.
Mother wears starched smiles for neighbors, weeps at night.
I want to fight. I want Mother to smile. Let neighbors hate me for loving Elvis, not for Dad’s idiocy. I want to cruise the streets, to be called friend. Best friend.
I’d be considered hysterical to mention this.
I don a smile.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, 50 Word Stories, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.
Mar
Sweet Lullaby
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Brianne gently swung the bassinet humming a lullaby. It had been in her family for years and it was her turn to place a baby in it.
She decorated the nursery with teddy bears and yellow duckling wallpaper. She spent the majority of her time in the baby’s room holding the many tiny onesies her family gave her and reading the children’s books for the baby’s library.
“Honey, I’m home,” said her husband Greg as he entered the room with a bouquet of freshly scented red roses.
Brianne began to weep.
It was time to tell him about the miscarriage.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Good News, Bad News
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
If it was up to me, I would be anywhere else but this waiting room.
I visit my Doctor as little as humanly possible. In fact, last Monday was the first time I’ve been here in ages. He told me to go to the hospital and take the tests. He said he’d call me back when the results were in.
I got the call an hour ago from the practice nurse. She said the Doctor could see me as soon as I arrived.
The news is not good. It’s twins and my husband has been in prison for two years.
From Guest Contributor Bernie Hanvey
Oct
Expired
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Lucie hears the police officer’s voice so clearly in her memory. We’re sorry, your husband has been hit by a drunk driver and he’s unresponsive. Come to the hospital immediately.
She’s helpless, afraid, when she sees John still, and bleeding from his head.
Lucie stares out the window watching the birds fly, chirping in unison. The clouds give way to abundant sunshine and she waits for the doctor, impatiently biting her nails.
The doctor’s words are imprinted in her mind. Internal injuries. Needs surgery immediately.
“Mrs. Giovani, I’m very sorry. Your husband expired on the operating table.”
The sky darkens.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher