Posts Tagged ‘Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher’

5
Dec

Cindy’s Day

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Cindy sipped her hot cocoa and let the warmth hit her stomach, as she listened to the serene crackling of the fireplace. She opened her book, and cuddled on the couch with her dog Bree, until the phone rang.

“Who could be calling me on my day off?” she asked Bree as she barked. “I feel the same way,” she said as she patted Bree’s head and answered the phone.

“Stan has called in sick. You need to come to the office now,” Cindy’s boss said without a hello.

Her planned relaxing day became a hectic day at the office.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

21
Nov

Thankful

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I smell the turkey as my father carves each slice delicately. My
mother’s homemade mashed potatoes steaming, the butter melting down onto
my dish, makes my mouth water.

We can’t touch our food until the turkey is on the dish and the
Thanksgiving prayer has been said.

My younger brother squirms in his seat waiting to shovel stuffing into
his mouth.

“Okay, the turkey is carved,” my father says and clasps his hands
together and begins the prayer.

It’s not the food I realize that makes me happy. It’s the faces
surrounding me at this table that I’m thankful for.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

14
Nov

Reflection

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I sit by the fireplace in the cabin I rent, sipping steaming tea,
staring at the painting above the mantel.

The woman’s face has a distinct redness to her cheeks and lips. Her deep
brown eyes match the color of her hair which is tied in a bun with one
small red rose tucked behind her left ear, her head tilting ever so
slightly. Her pearl necklace drapes neatly around her neck and she
stands tall, her gown showing off her shapely hips.

There’s no date on the painting or artist signature.

The young woman in the painting is me.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

7
Nov

Sweet Memory

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The girls play hopscotch, the one sister’s hair bounces in rhythm to her skips. She giggles and bends to pick up the rock, balancing her leg in the air. She wins, and they play again and again, until the sky opens, drenching them. Hand in hand they run home with their mouths open tasting rain drops. Entering the house, their mother yells for them to take off their wet sneakers and leave them by the door.

They kick off their sneakers and socks.

In the kitchen there’s the sweet smell of chocolate chip cookies.

Eighty-five-year-old Cindy smiles at the memory.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

31
Oct

Echo Of Time

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I watched the child in the blue sweatshirt jump in the leaves, laughing. What a delight to have heard the echo of his chortle as I sat with the cool autumn breeze against my face. I had my novel opened at the same page for the last fifteen minutes, my eyes focused on the fair-haired boy.

He plopped down, waved his hands through the leaves and looked at the clear sky.

I closed my book and lifted myself up with my cane.

The boy had gone and all I saw were leaves blowing in the park.

That boy was me.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

15
Oct

The Eve Before Halloween

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The eve before Halloween I visit Melissa’s gravesite and place a
bouquet of yellow roses against her stone. She’d be thirty years old
today. The cemetery is empty, and the rain is cold against my face, but
I am here.

“Hi, Sweetie. In honor of your favorite holiday, I’m having a Halloween
party and celebrating your birthday tomorrow. I wish you could be here,”
I say, tearing. I walk to my car briskly, the umbrella inside out from
the wind.

The rain becomes heavy and when I drive off, the petals of the roses
blow in front of my car.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

11
Sep

Never Forgotten

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The eerie sound of rumbling and cries coming from the street as the day turns clouded with dust and debris.

Sirens blaring, chaos ensuing. A day of sadness and a city coming together in the face of tragedy.

The memory of falling angels and blackness in lower Manhattan as firefighters run to help the innocent.

Seventeen years later, the depth of emotion still consumes our souls.

Names read every year on the day, by a weeping family member.

Sleepless nights and sorrow for family still waiting to hear if their loved one’s remains are found, never forgetting September 11th, 2001.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

23
Aug

The Red Cardinal

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Mark sat next to his motionless mother.

“How is she doing today,” Mark asked the nurse. A red cardinal perched
on the window sill chirped.

“The same. Quiet and still.”

Mark opened his journal and wrote the date. He spent his time writing
happy moments with his mother rather than spending time on a novel.

“Mom, look. There’s a red cardinal, your favorite bird.” Sophia’s mouth
sagged, expressionless.

He sighed. “Mom, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Mark left the room with a blank space in his journal. Alzheimer’s took
his mother away and he didn’t know how to endure the emptiness.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

25
Jul

I Should’ve Known Better

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The sweat is dripping down my neck. I chug water to quench my thirst,
but it doesn’t alleviate my heated body. Why did I promise my wife I’d
plant the basil seeds today? Why? Because I’m an idiot and she knows it.
If I have a heart attack, all she’ll care about is the garden.

I finally finish up and brush myself off. I can’t wait to feel the cool
shower on my body.

“Did you finish up outside?”

“Yes, Dear, the planting is done.”

Now I know better than to have an affair with another woman in our
house.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

17
Jul

A Beautiful Day For A Stroll

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I strolled down the street enjoying the spring air. Birds chirped, and
squirrels crossed my path. What a beautiful day for a walk.

“Hey, Bree,” a voice yelled from across the street.

It was Myra. A nice person, but too verbose.

“Guess what, I got a job at Smith & Smith. I start next Monday. Isn’t
that great! I can’t wait until I tell my boyfriend Hank. He’ll be so
excited. Do you want to get coffee? I could really use a cup.”

“Got to go, Myra. Good luck.”

“Are you sure you don’t want…”

My stroll became a jog.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher