Posts Tagged ‘Light’


Match Light

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The flame exploded into being as the match head dragged across the sandpaper. It might have seemed magical, but really it was just that the glass-on-glass friction generated enough heat to kindle the match’s phosphorus.

The match provided the only light in the entire house, perhaps the entire city. Between the impenetrable clouds and the power outage, darkness had descended as quickly as the sun.

The illumination lasted long enough for Theresa to count the remaining matches. Seventeen. Each one guaranteed to ignite but she knew such guarantees were hollow.

Seventeen matches to survive until the end of the world.


Better Off

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words





Nicole wakes up in what feels like a cocoon. Everything is soft, including her focus.

A familiar voice cascades in. Nicole turns. A stranger is smiling at her. She recognizes nothing about him but the voice coming from his mouth.

“The doctors say you’ll be okay. You just need rest.”

Nicole tries moving, but no response. She fears paralysis, until she notices the restraints. She looks back at the stranger.

“You really gave us a fright.”

She remembers. Not everything, not who this person is or the accident, but she remembers enough.

Better she were dead.


The Rant In The Lamp

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

In my perfect prison of smooth, curving walls, I dread the serpentine rope, curling on the bottom of the well.

No escape by that plaited ladder. It is a sucking wick, a path to punishment above in the glass panopticon, where they burn me alive.

With my light, without their night, those heedless animals cook and sing and flirt, while I, burning, dwindle and darken the glass.

I have suffered long in this prison well, and I have chosen my end. Once I am no more than soot and foul air, with my last, dry gasps, I will poison them.

From Guest Contributor Virginia Marybury


A Singular Engagement

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

William cradled his seven billion secret.

So many sparkles, surfaces splintering sunlight.

He couldn’t name a single confidant. The gravity and the gossamer belonged to him alone.

He snapped the case shut. The light remained. Would it fit? He believed so. He hoped so.

Then again, it didn’t matter. If it fit, they’d tell a fairy book tale. If it didn’t, they’d laugh, they’d reconsider, and they’d refit, impervious to the punches.

All of which they would come to know together. In the meantime, he’d know all alone, confident yet precarious in the center of his chest.

Witnesses could wait.

From Guest Contributor Frankie Sturm



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was about to toss you out. End our years of coexistence.

Reminiscing helped me see you in a new light. Made me realize how good
you’ve been to me.

Through difficult as well as good times you were there for me. Your
goal to please was simple. You aimed to brighten my dark evenings and
make me feel safe at night when I couldn’t sleep.

I’m thankful for your enduring warmth. For without you, I wouldn’t
have been able to orientate myself in these surroundings. Nor read my
favorite books.

Lamp I’ve owned for countless years, we belong together.

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


The Alarm

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

James and April had just moved to their new apartment. The walls were freshly painted and the appliances were new.

“You really should test the smoke detector,” April said. The light was out.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” James replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Honey, it’s almost twelve o’clock.”

“It’s not going to make much noise.”

We just moved in. We can’t wake anyone,” James said.

“Fine, fine. you can do whatever you want,” April replied.

“I honestly just don’t want to wake anyone up.”

Later that night, the complex was engulfed by flames. James and April escaped.

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

There was an old man who never slept at night. I saw him often from my room, I recognized him but didn’t know him.

I used to see a flickering light in his room, it disturbed me and didn’t let me sleep. I wanted to shout ‘could you turn off the light’ but never did.

My sister got married and I shifted to her room. I never saw him again; now all I get to see is a closed window with broken glass. I wonder where he’s gone? Previously, the open window disturbed me and now it’s the closed one.

From Guest Contributor Preeti Singh

Preeti is a french language interpreter and a media professional who is engaged in writing short films and playing characters for tv series.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The road is not straight. It swines and curves. Like a path of destruction. No journey here I called. I couldn’t see ahead. Deviation, pain, loss, pricked at me. They said no left turn, back up, 6 months, maybe less. Who decides, hurray, take a right? No, down that alley, over there. A light, but you can’t escape. It creeps in deceptive, unimaginable, taking everything. There is no humility. It feeds off itself until the end. Then a rapture egresses, no more pain, no more exile from the human race. So many, yet one name. So common – cancer awaits.

From Guest Contributor Dana Sterner



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

You leapt forward with clear resolve. Left me standing in the dark.

I mull over your departure. Review circumstances. My mind turns somersaults, not being able to comprehend.

It wasn’t me, you once said. Not even us. You tried to resolve battles within you. Past demons colliding with ideals you set for the future. Hope slipping into a void.

I offered you help. You refused.

Into the darkness I stare. Light beams from afar. Tempts me to look into a future I can make my own.

I’ll open the door. Be on my way. Knowing you won’t travel with me.

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.


Morning Run

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Keep your footing steady, prepared for the slick, the slide, your
flight, your footlessness, your unexpected sky view. Run towards the
hazy white clouds, the early sun’s pinkish fire, the black ice–a
lake, a mottled mirror. You know the quiet sidewalk, the barren apple
tree, the forgotten field. But this sea yearning, this siren call to
dive deep, feet first, into the glass, the shatter–is undeniable, an
immersion, a full body baptism. You suddenly find yourself splayed and
shaken, flat on your back, laughing at your air walk, your feet now
hesitant, dull–the morning light cool, the day transparent,

From Guest Contributor Holiday Goldfarb