Posts Tagged ‘Husband’
Jul
Firstborn
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The soon to be father entered the delivery room wearing a hastily tied paper gown.
“You’re just in time, Dad. We’re about to have a baby,” the doctor said. A large set of forceps flashed before vanishing behind the curtain. “Okay Mom, one more good push.”
Mom screamed while attempting to crush her husband’s hand. After a smack on the rear, the newborn sucked in its first breath and wailed.
“Congratulations, you have a baby girl.”
Tears of joy filled mom’s eyes as her daughter was placed into her arms, and she said with concern, “She looks like an alien.”
From Guest Contributor Eddie D. Moore
Eddie travels hundreds of hours a year, and he fills that time by listening to audiobooks. When he isn’t playing with his grandchildren, he writes his own stories. His stories have been published by Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Black Hare Press, Nomadic Delirium Press, Fantasia Divinity Publishing and by dozens of online publishers. You can find a list of his publications on his blog, eddiedmoore.wordpress.com, or by visiting his Amazon Author Page, amazon.com/author/eddiedmoore. While you’re there, be sure to pick up a copy of his mini-anthology Misfits & Oddities.
Jun
Her Greatest Love Affair
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
On her death bed, Jennifer’s thoughts don’t dwell on her husband, despite several decades of marriage and two children together.
It’s Mateo she remembers instead. Jennifer was only meant to spend three days in Barcelona, but she switched out her ticket and let her friends travel on to Italy without her.
She remembers Mateo’s laugh, and the way he mispronounced her name in the cutest way. She remembers the passion when they made love in his flat beneath the open window.
It was only two weeks, but that was enough time to know Mateo was the love of her life.
May
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
Apr
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.
Mar
Emptiness
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Toniann held her infant daughter close to her chest. She hummed and rocked looking at her tiny eyelids, gently pressing her face against baby’s fragile skin.
The nurse came in to take her, but Toniann pleaded for a few more minutes. She loved the feel of her small body in her arms.
Kurt gently reached to remove the baby from Toniann’s arms. “Honey, it’s time to let the nurse take her.”
Toniann struggled at first, but then released her daughter into the hands of her husband. Emptiness filled her heart.
She’d never feel the soft touch of her daughter again.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Chopping Along
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Knife steadied, I proceeded to chop sweet pepper. Choppy chords of a Chopin prelude dominated the airwaves as the sound of an overhead chopper faded. “Anything else to add to our Chopin list? Sorry, couldn’t help it,” husband laughed. Lucky he’s not on my chopping block, I thought. “Don’t forget. Mother’s here for dinner tonight,” I said. Onions appeared next on my chopping board. “What are you making, Mom?” I turned around to answer: “Vegetarian Chop Suey.” “No lamb chops? That’s okay,” my boy surmised. “Don’t think grandma’s choppers can take anything tough. Does she know how to use chopsticks?
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals and many friends.
Nov
Mary Of Silence
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
From where she stood, she watched the blood soak into the hard, compacted earth. It was like watching water that has spilled from a glass onto the countertop evaporate in fast motion. Soon it would be as if the dark fluid had never been there, absorbed into this wasteland where it could serve no purpose.
Mary wanted to scream. But her voice had fled long ago. With no one willing to listen futility had eventually won out. The doctors called it aphasia.
So Mary watched her husband die. Here, freedom surely was a bitterness. Alone, she started walking towards sunset.
Oct
Corn
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
Jun
Just Another Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Officer Barrett aimed and fired his gun, hitting the man in the shoulder. The criminal dropped his weapon and screeched in pain.
“On your knees, hands behind your head,” Barrett said, cuffing the man’s hands.
“Take it easy, I have a bullet in my shoulder,” he wriggled as Barrett pushed him to his feet.
“Better than a bullet in your head, like you did to that poor woman’s husband. You’re going away for a very long time. This was your last house robbery.
Barrett put him in the squad car and slammed the door.
Just another day on the job.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Salt Of The Earth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Ian sits supping his pint, jotting down some verses in his notebook, his Sylvia Plath’s Collected Poems at his side.
A mother and two twenty-something daughters take the next table. The menfolk, the husband and the boyfriends, arrive with the drinks.
They notice him briefly and he senses the usual smirks and rolling eyes.
But he’s soon forgotten as they immerse themselves in their hearty little world.
The men have large practical hands. Eavesdropping, Ian learns that the daughters are in sales and retail, respectively.
‘Salt of the earth’ he thinks sardonically, thanking God for poets and tortured souls everywhere.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher