Posts Tagged ‘Life’
Apr
Zip Bombs
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Six nuclear bombs head for Russia. A short time later the world’s arsenal is launched. Life on the planet changed overnight.
Jon is hiding in a barn with other civilians. As soldiers break in Jon transforms into a pile of hay bales. Soldiers gather the civilians and escort them to camps. Julie, still in the barn, escapes detection because she‘s covered in hay bales. Jon saved her life. Jon changes back to human form.
Afterwards Jon and Julie become best friends. Months later, Jon tells her his secret. “Those six nuclear warheads, they weren’t bombs, that was me,” says Jon.
From Guest Contributor Denny E. Marshall
Feb
The Mirror
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The crack begins in the center of the mirror, spreads out, and creates four distinct sections. Each one reflects a different period of his life: childhood, young adult, middle age, old age. He sees the past and the future all at once. Like the mirror, he is shattered, torn in different directions. He has regrets, sure, but he wouldn’t be where he is today without those regrets and where he is isn’t so bad. Still, what if he could do it all over again? He reaches out and falls into the mirror and finds himself back at the beginning again.
From Guest Contributor Dan Slaten
Nov
Betrayed
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Leo squeezed Hayden’s neck. Slowly the life began to leave her body as her eyes widened and face reddened.
“You slept with him, you damn witch!” Leo squeezed harder banging Hayden’s head against the wall until she collapsed with a thump, her dead eyes staring blankly at him. Leo released his grip and took a deep breath wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his hand.
Leo wiped down every trace of his finger prints and DNA. He put the gloves in his pocket and left Hayden’s house intent on finding the man she left him for.
From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
Robot Monkeys
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Daddy, why are there bars on the robot monkeys’ windows?”
Roger picked a bit of cotton candy off his son’s nose. “Danny, it’s a zoo.”
“But Daddy, they aren’t wild animals like the others. We don’t keep our robots in cages.”
Roger laughed and tousled Danny’s hair. “Well, Buddy, our robots have Gen IX brains. These little guys are first generation. Nobody wants them and they could never survive on their own.”
“But why keep them then? Why aren’t they just recycled?”
“Daniel. We’re not barbarians. We gave them life. We can’t just throw them away. Besides, aren’t they cute?”
From Guest Contributor Simon Hole
Jul
End Of The Line
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Grace ran her finger over the word.
TERMINATED
She over-pronounced each syllable. The word crashed off her computer’s screen. The “t” chipped the floor with its hook. The “e” cracked the tile, and the rest of the letters tumbled into the void.
“Didn’t tell me in person.” The night beacon, bedroom clock blinked 11:15.
In her unkempt kitchen, she knelt beside the sink. Ants crawled, a living chain of perfect order. They bypassed her bait. Scouts explored on. Workers followed trails through the cracks. But in the hive, the queen risked nothing.
Life balanced on the pinhole of a hilltop.
From Guest Contributor Embe Charpentier
Jun
Wishes
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I saw a comet yesterday. It came as though from nowhere, soaring across the deep blue expanse of sky inset with bright stars. Watching it, I felt youthful again, glowing with vibrant dreams and astronomical aspirations—reborn like a phoenix from the ashes of adulthood.
In a moment of euphoria, I closed my eyes and wished for the love of my life. The fiery tail ripped through the night, searching for my soulmate. When I opened my eyes, my wife was standing before me.
Then I remembered—comets are hard, icy rocks, and they suck the life from the sun.
From Guest Contributor Taylor Shepeard
Jun
Caught In The Fury
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One came at him from behind, another from the side. The assault started only minutes ago yet to him it felt longer.
He recalled his father’s war experiences. How as a mere twenty-year-old he was expected to carry out his country’s mission. The horror of losing many close friends while he was able to return home haunted him to the end of his life.
The present situation was nowhere as difficult as his father’s. The opponent stalled, giving him the chance to counterattack.
He leaped into a pile of paper, shaped sheets into airplanes. Aimed at his son.
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.
May
Failure To Thaw
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The funeral didn’t make her cry.
She had been given a frosty life, locked out of warmth. Once she found the sun, she never looked back. And yet, here she was.
The chalky dough of a face, ice white and just as cold, with a slash of red lips and the hum of memories in the air bounced off of her like the wrong side of a magnet. She gave the packet of tissues to her sister before brushing past.
Leaning close, she touched the stripe of rouge. Some rubbed off on her finger.
Curious, she thought, the measures taken.
From Guest Contributor Emily Fox
Emily has an MA in English and Creative Writing from SNHU. She currently lives in North Carolina. You can find her at emfoxwrites.com, or follow her on Twitter @emfoxwrites.
Apr
Forgetting Redwoods
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There are trees on the west coast you can drive through. Ancient monoliths built by thousands of years’ work: rain, floods, winters, dry lightning fires. Our grandfathers’ fathers’, storytellers gone silent over the ages, tales forgotten, archaic aching fallen into disuse, a dead language. Even the wind cannot communicate with these trees anymore.
Wander beneath their canopy, sniffing soft bark with noses pressed to red fur, hoping to draw life form the redness; to taste green needles under tongue, run thick sap through veins. But they are sealed.
And all I smell is the distant salt water licking wet sand.
From Guest Contributor Jon Alston
Jon has an MA in Creative Writing. Good for him. He writes things from time to time, and sometimes people publish them. Good for him. On occasion, he will photograph things (or people), and maybe write about them; sometimes there is money exchanged for his services. Good for him. He is married and has two children of both genders. Way to reproduce. He is the Executive Editor and founder of From Sac, a literary journal for Northern California. How about that? Currently he teaches English at Brigham Young University, Idaho among the frozen potato fields and Mormons. Good for you, Jon.
Websites: www.fromsac.com www.jaawritter.blogspot.com
Mar
Shades Of Time
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I sat quietly on the exam table pondering my yellow skin. Turning toward the mirror hanging on the wall, I ran my blue fingertips up my slender arm touching the pale face that reflected. Too young for wrinkles I thought. I never liked doctors or hospitals. Maybe that’s why I waited. But after a year of treating my superfluous symptoms, well – it never crossed my mind that it would be too late. That time was limited and colors carried the secret. The doctor wasn’t comforting. My dark brown wide set eyes that glittered with life would soon turn dim.
From Guest Contributor Dana Sterner
Dana is a registered nurse and has written for regional and national healthcare magazines and has been a prior contributor to a A Story in 100 Words.