Posts Tagged ‘Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher’
Jun
A Nice Girl
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Samantha read The Great Gatsby, to her elderly grandmother Millie,
again.
She sat with the book in one hand and her coffee mug in the other. The
small room was warm and cozy as the sun beamed through the window.
Samantha took a sip of coffee and listened to the birds chirping and the
ticking of the wall clock. It was time to leave.
She kissed Millie on the cheek. “Okay, grandma, see you on Sunday.”
Samantha’s eyes teared as she left, knowing her grandmother no longer
knew who she was, other than a nice girl who came to visit.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
Unexpected
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Lucy turned up the car radio. It was their song and it reminded her of his soft touch on her body and the warmth of his breath on her face. Jim was taken too soon from an unexpected illness and the pain jabbed at her heart. She longed to hear his laughter and see his big dimples. His family didn’t approve of their relationship. She was older, divorced and not Catholic. But they were in love.
Lucy drove up the driveway and rubbed her stomach. How would she tell a family that disliked her that Jim would’ve been a father?
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Tick Tock
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
With his apartment empty and no sounds other than the ticking of the clock, Timothy took a walk in the cold night air until a bright sign caught his eye. Psychic Reading. Reluctantly, he went inside.
“I’m, Tianna. Sit.”
Tianna smoothed her fingers across his palm. “You will be the cause of a terrible accident.”
Upset, Timothy stormed out and crossed the street when he heard a woman’s voice.
“Hey, you didn’t pay me!”
He turned and then a car came to a screeching halt, but not before hitting Tianna.
Still on the ground, her eyes open, Tianna was dead.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Happy Max
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Perhaps it’s the abundant sunshine, or the bees pollinating the flowers, or even the birds flying from tree to tree. Or, it could just be that Max is a happy man. Yes, happy. He walks around the neighborhood listening to his favorite group U2 on his iPod. His stride quickens to their song, The Streets Have No Name. He waves to his young neighbor Tammy, who is riding her pink striped bicycle.
“Max, watch out!” Tammy bellows.
Max turns, but it’s too late. The last thing he sees before the car strikes him is birds soaring above, and feet approaching.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
Storm
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Having left my car behind, smashed against a tree in the forest, I’ve been walking for hours, with the snow and wind against my face. My feet half frozen, barely able to breathe and my hands numb, I’m lonely and afraid. If only I could see in front of me, but it’s becoming dark and the snow distorts my vision.
I can’t go any further. I fall to the cushioned ground and pray my death will be painless. I close my eyes and feel the snow cover my body. I drift off, and the last thing I see is darkness.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
The Postcard
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I sit in the beaming sunlight reading Tim’s postcard from France repeatedly.
“Callie, I met a beautiful French woman and we’re in love. I’m not coming home.”
My sweat drips onto the postcard leaving smudge marks. How could he do this to me? I’m so aghast, I throw the postcard on the grass and my dog Bentley whimpers as I kick the lawn chair across the yard, hitting the neighbor’s fence.
“Hey, watch it, Callie! You’ll break my fence,” Charlie yells.
Before I have a chance to answer, I look at the postcard and chortle. It’s full of bird excrement.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Feb
New Start
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A new year, a new start and I’m ready to begin my novel.
“Okay, I need a protagonist and an intriguing plot. I can definitely do this.”
I turn the computer on, fill the printer with paper and sit my butt down. Then I stretch my arms, put my fingers on the keyboard and stare at the blank screen.
“Okay, what’s my character’s name? Charlie Strong. Now, I need a plot.”
After typing, Charlie Strong sat at the table sipping coffee, I froze.
“Well, so much for my new start.”
I get up and make a fresh pot of coffee.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
My Proudest Moment
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The river was calm, and the fish were biting. I wouldn’t dare tell my father I hated fishing. It was our time together. I watched as he baited his hook and threw it into the water.
“Isn’t this nice, Son. I really enjoy our time together.”
“Me too, Dad.”
I swung my rod into the water and within minutes I got a bite.
“Reel it in, Son. That’s it. What a catch! That’s a big fish you got there.”
I looked at my Dad and his face was beaming.
I’d always remember how proud he was of me that day.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
New Year’s Resolutions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
New Year’s Eve, a time to reflect on the past year, and Charles did just that. In the upcoming year he would eat healthy, and spend more time with his granddaughter. Julia with her dimpled cheeks would be a young woman soon and he didn’t want to miss another minute.
Times Square was filled with people, dressed in big coats and hats braving the cold. The countdown began, and the glittering ball started to drop.
“Happy New Year, Elise,” he said.
He drank his champagne and placed it next to his wife Elise’s photo, her glass full and bubbling untouched.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
The Tiny Box
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Rosa watched the Christmas lights flickering on the house across the street. Green, red, blue and white, gleaming through her window. She took a sip of tea and let the warmth settle in her stomach.
Under the Christmas tree sat a tiny box from Steve, neatly wrapped in gold paper and a red bow.
A year had passed since Steve’s death and Rosa wouldn’t open the box without him.
Deep inside she knew what would be in the box, but truly knowing would break her heart.
Every year Rosa continued putting the box under the tree and never opened it.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher