Posts Tagged ‘Kids’
Feb
Ghosts
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
In front of the circus truck came a moving van and two old clunkers. People were finally moving into the house at the end of the cul-de-sac, which we’d all suspected was haunted. The circus truck double parked beside the moving van and out poured our old friends, the bearded lady and fortune teller, clutching his crystal ball, two sweet loveable clowns who rolled out smiling, somersaulting around the cul-de-sac. Soon our kids were busy taming the lions while the elephants practiced their counting and we gossiped about the new neighbors until one of them floated by and said hello.
From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe
Nov
Pizza
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Bill picked mushroom slices off the boxed pizza, grimacing, stacking them.
Sadie watched. “What’s wrong, Honeybun?”
“Mushrooms. They don’t belong on pizza. My ex-wife knew that. They’re like human ears.” Bill shuddered.
“Sorry!” Sadie sniffled, blue eyes pooling on her freckled face.
“Don’t be a baby.”
She was 20. Their infant son lay in the bedroom, drooling on Bill’s pillow, fitful with eczema. His ex Patsy, thinner now, lived in her own divorce trailer, screwing her burly handyman. Grown kids, not speaking to Bill. Everyone, broken. Bill sighed at the pile of ears. “Growing you up, it takes time, Sadie.”
From Guest Contributor Nicole Brogdon
Nicole is a trauma therapist in Austin TX, interested in strugglers and stories everywhere. Her flash fiction appears in Flash Frontier, Bending Genres, 101Words, Bright Flash, Dribble Drabble Review, Centifictionist, and elsewhere.
Nov
Live A Little Before You Are Eaten
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Hybrid kids of Earth? Munching on mermaids? Half-trout, half-human tumors to turbocharge fish growth? A few escape, and voilà, mermaids? Dining on Manitours? Half-cow, half-human tumors? Some flee, transforming Earth into fairyland? How ’bout orcs? Half-pig, half-human tumors? Orcs could settle scores when they flee. The weirdest? Chickenman. End days echo Noah’s. Bon appétit! The sad truth of mankind? Will humanity never learn? Eating yourself to death is humanity into Soylent Green all over again? Does humanity never listen and learn change your way before you become the meal of the day. For in the end. Live before being eaten.
From Guest Contributor Clinton Siegle
Jul
Dr. Marks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dr. Marks observes Tommy. “How are you feeling?”
Tommy fidgets. “Okay.”
Dr. Marks writes on her pad and then looks at Tommy again. “Tell me about your friend Sal.”
“He stands up for me when the other kids are mean. Isn’t that right, Sal?” Tommy turns to the empty chair next to him.
“Tommy, was Sal there when Charlie took your lunch?”
“Yeah, he hit him with his history book.”
Dr. Marks writes more notes.
“Tommy, you’re going to be staying here for a while.
“Me and Sal?”
Dr. Marks places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yes, you and Sal.”
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Caught
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The car is in park, with the air-conditioner cranked. I finish my ice-cold soda, and would like another, but I’m not leaving this spot. It’s broad daylight and people are walking to work or taking their kids to school. I can’t wait until this is over so I can go home and get some much-needed sleep. A cold beer and cool shower will do nicely too.
She exits the apartment wrapped in his arms passionately kissing. I snap the photos with my cell phone and text the pictures to her husband. I put the car in drive.
My payment awaits.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
August Drops
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s not fall yet. It’s still light ‘til eight and the kids want to stay out past that on the trampoline that squeaks now with every bounce, its round net keeping out the cucumber-loving mosquitoes, the raspberry-loving bees, the cool night-loving spiders. The sky goes sherbet and then gray and raindrops fall but stop just before you get them to come in and then the sky is bright on one side, and the baby is jumping and pointing: light! (spin) dark! (spin) light! (spin) pink! And it’s time to do pajamas and kitchen and bills but you don’t.
You jump.
From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat
Brook is the author of Only Flying, a Pushcart-nominated collection of surreal poetry and flash fiction on paradox, rebellion, transformation, and enlightenment from Unsolicited Press. Her work has won contests at Loud Coffee Press and A Story in 100 Words, and it has appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror, Soundings East, The Alien Buddha Goes Pop, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. She is a founding editor of Blue Planet Journal and a professor of creative writing. Read her work and learn more about Only Flying at https://brook-bhagat.com/.
Apr
What Lies Ahead
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The explosions are closer, and my children are silent, staring wide-eyed out the window, watching people scrambling and screaming at the bombs up ahead. I would stay inside the comfort of my own home, but it is just as dangerous as the outside world. We have no choice; we must leave now.
“Children, come quickly.”
I take hold of Hannah and Erik’s hand and hurry down the steps, tripping and nearly falling taking my kids with me, but I steady myself and continue going.
The streets are crowded, and I don’t look back.
I stay focused on what lies ahead.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Soldier’s Return
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s been years since I could feel my wife’s hands on my body, and I can’t wait to lay next to her in bed caressing her soft skin.
I didn’t know what to give my kids for Christmas, so I made a collage of all the letters and pictures my son and daughter sent me. I made the same gift for my wife, but with a personal touch, for her eyes only. Their pictures and letters helped keep me strong through the long war.
The bus has come to a stop.
The three of them are here, smiling, anxiously waiting.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Served
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“You are served!”
“Why?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Hmm. No contact, the papers state, so I won’t know. Let me think. I haven’t bought her a birthday present for four or five years, but she doesn’t like what I buy anyway. I always turn over all of the money I make. She is a great bookkeeper. No ‘out to dinner,’ but I cook often. I don’t do dishes. The kids are grown and out on their own. We don’t talk too much. I imagine she emptied out the savings. Where are Ted and I gonna get stoned? Where am I to sleep?”
From Guest Contributor Virginia Timm
Jul
Metamorphosis
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Kids are dumb. Especially when they’re fourteen.
Vivian was this really fat girl in my Algebra class. Her friend passed me a note via my friend: Vivian likes you.
She waited for me in the cafeteria.
Her face was cute, but I didn’t want to be seen with her.
“I don’t like that fat girl,” I shouted so all would hear.
Since then I can’t bear to see her cry.
Yesterday, over breakfast, I asked my son to pass a birthday card to her.
She cried.
“You know, Dad, sometimes you’re a real dumb guy.”
I smiled. “I know, Son.”
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.”