Posts Tagged ‘Life’
Feb
Storm Damage
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m a lucky lady. I have a wonderful lover in my life. A younger man. An enthusiastic younger man.
Lovemaking sessions are spontaneous, passionate and spicy. Lately we have been able to see a lot of each other. It is great.
I was annoyed he didn’t drive here immediately to help me with the post-storm clean up. The house is fine; the yard a carpet of leaves and branches.
Calmly, I put things into proper perspective.
-I have no right to put demands on him.
-He can’t be on call.
-My husband will fly home tomorrow from his overseas posting.
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry O’Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry’s other stories can be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story in 100 Words.
Nov
Good Bye World
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The blood of the homeless worked nicely. I was able to refine the unimaginably gruesome ritual and it worked, I stopped aging! I am writing this to repent for my sins and to warn others. Now the only life I will take is my own, to ensure that the minute details of the sickening ceremony die with me. Always remember that one virtuous short life is worth more than a hundred long lives of evil like the one I have lived. I now say goodbye to the world I have known longer than anyone else in the history of man.
From Guest Contributor Kevin Pentalow
Oct
Rotten Teeth
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Staring down at my bloody teeth, I vowed this would be the last I had this nightmare.
Dr. Lawson called them stress dreams and suggested I examine where my anxiety was coming from. Only I knew their true source. I wasn’t going to share it with my therapist.
I tried washing my hands, but soap and water couldn’t cure the corruption. My soul had turned, many years ago, and the only way to end its blight was to take my own life. Or to kill again.
Dr. Lawson was the next victim to pay the price for my own cowardice.
Happy Halloween
Jul
The Last Transmission Of The Starship Pyramus
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
100 seconds to detonation. All crew evacuate immediately.
Rob, I…
You used to say “we were stardust once and we’ll all be stardust again.” You always were a sentimental son of a bitch.
Bobby, I’m about to break my promise.
60 seconds to detonation.
The Centauri ambushed us. So, new orders: set the charge. Lure them in. And then…
Well, there are worse things in life than a quick end.
30 seconds to detonation.
I’m sorry, Bobby. There’s so much to say…
Don’t worry about me. I’m staring at death,
10, 9, 8-
but all I can see is stardust.
From Guest Contributor, John Murray Lewis
Apr
Jeb And Gerold
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Jeb thought he was safe for the time being; then he heard something:
“Who’s there?”
“Someone trying to stay alive.”
Jeb peered and saw someone. He crept forward, cradling his rifle.
The young man sat on some hay, his legs spread out, arms back.
“Go ahead, shoot.”
Jeb came up, and sat across from the Yankee.
“Not yet. How did you get caught in this mess?”
“I could ask the same about you.”
They looked at each other, forming similar thoughts.
“We could die tonight, you know,” said Jeb.
“Life’s too precious for that.” They leaned forward, and then kissed.
From Guest Contributor, Dycen Alexander
Dec
No More Sequels, Please
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
As she awaited death, memories of her many poor life choices channel-surfed through her mind. Jennifer couldn’t help but think that her life too closely resembled a science fiction novel.
There was the time she’d been scooped up by aliens and narrowly averted the destruction of the Earth. Or the time machine that sent her back to colonial times where she accidentally killed George Washington. Or there was the trip to the outer rim on board the pirate ship, where she was sold into slavery.
Now that she looked back, Jennifer realized her life story was more of a trilogy.
Jul
I Had A Question
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
So I sought an answer. I looked behind silos, underwater, between the lines of out-of-print taxonomy texts. I branded objects as “right” or “wrong.”
That January I met a mathematician who studied knots. Like rope I asked, no, like string theory he replied. Then I wanted to know which planets may harbor life on their moons. He shrugged. Beckoned the waitress. It started a morally inhospitable year.
I leveraged my concerns. I was humbled by saplings. I began ending sentences with “in today’s world.”
In December I met a prophet. I had been inhaling incorrectly my entire life.
From Guest Contributor, Liv Lansdale