Posts Tagged ‘Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher’
Sep
Home From War
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I stepped off the bus, my body drenched in sweat. I couldn’t wait to remove my uniform.
I walked the path, the grass greener than I remembered and budding with flowers.
My head ached from the heat, and I needed a bath, but I didn’t think my wife would mind.
There Jane stood, her dress blowing in the breeze, her hair longer, shielding the sun from her face. She screamed my name and ran into my arms.
We enjoyed a passionate kiss that lasted several minutes when she took my hand and led me inside.
The bath would certainly wait.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
Assignment
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I had been told of the dangers of the assignment and assured my boss that I could handle it. Now on the dark, ominously quiet streets after curfew, in Nazi-occupied Poland, I wondered. I told myself I’m doing it for my country and for myself.
I hid the folded map in the secret compartment in the heel of my shoe. If I am captured, we will all be tortured and then executed.
I continued until I reached my destination and handed over the map to the leader of the resistance.
I finally let out a sigh of relief and wept.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
Repose
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The warmth of the spring sun filled my body with repose. I laid back and looked up at the sky. The blueness bright and cheery awakened my eyes to ebullience.
I let the small rowboat drift on its own while the sound of ducks quacked and flapped their wings bathing in the lake. Nature was all around me. Birds chirped, on the shore frogs hopped, crabs crawled on the sand, and tree leaves quietly blew in the slight breeze.
I closed my eyes and soaked it all in, storing every sound and image in my mind.
Tomorrow, I start anew.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Aug
Gone Fishing
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The fish hook didn’t stir in the stillness of the water.
There’s a dark, ominous look in the sky. Not the sunny, warm weather the forecasters predicted.
The shore wasn’t far, so I stayed on course and waited. I wished I had something to drink. The air was humid, and my lips quenched water.
In the tiny row boat, I felt lonely, especially since no one else was on the lake and my only companions were the birds chirping in the trees.
A bolt of lightning filled the sky, followed by claps of thunder.
Then the downpour.
No fish today.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Resistance
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The bomb exploded and debris collapsed all around. Covered in dust and choking from dryness, I ran to the alley. A sharp pain in my leg, I realized I had a large gash. I tore the sleeve of my shirt and wrapped my leg to stop the bleeding. With the gestapo in the area and people screaming, I stayed put.
After hours of cramped space and agonizing discomfort, I got up from the ground and limped to the safe house where my team awaited.
The resistance would be pleased with my finding and hopefully the allies would be here soon.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Dr. Marks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dr. Marks observes Tommy. “How are you feeling?”
Tommy fidgets. “Okay.”
Dr. Marks writes on her pad and then looks at Tommy again. “Tell me about your friend Sal.”
“He stands up for me when the other kids are mean. Isn’t that right, Sal?” Tommy turns to the empty chair next to him.
“Tommy, was Sal there when Charlie took your lunch?”
“Yeah, he hit him with his history book.”
Dr. Marks writes more notes.
“Tommy, you’re going to be staying here for a while.
“Me and Sal?”
Dr. Marks places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yes, you and Sal.”
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Last Breath
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My heart aches when I look at the faded photo of my wife. I place it back in my pocket and lean over the trench, rifle in position.
The tanks approach and deep down I know it’s an impossible situation, but I run onto the field shooting, the tanks firing back, hitting me, and my body thrown midair.
Charles, my friend, pulls me into a ditch and I manage to gesture to my pants pocket. Charles reaches in and pulls out the picture and hands it to me.
With the photo clutched to my chest, I take my last breath.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
Until Death
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I rode my bicycle past the Nazis they laughed and threw rocks at me. They hated our kind, and it was time to leave. I had no family, and lived in a small apartment alone, so it wouldn’t take long to pack. I neatly folded my suits and placed them into the luggage. I took the money I saved, stuffed it inside my jacket pocket, took one last look around and walked out the door to the train station.
A few months later, the Jewish families were rounded up and taken to camps.
My heart would ache until death.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Saturday Jog
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Jogging through the park, I keep the pace feeling energetic and free. The breeze against my cheeks feels refreshing and the chirping birds fill the air with song.
It’s crowded for a Saturday morning and parents are up early with their children. I pass two women pushing their young children on the swings as the boys soar high and chortle. Other joggers pass and smile contently.
I finish my lap and take a seat on the bench gulping water.
After breakfast and a shower, I will go about my regular weekend visiting my dad in the nursing home memory unit.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Victory
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The air is ominous, and lightning brightens the sky. I hold onto the mountain with both hands. I’m an avid climber, but the weather forecast is wrong. The sky is not abundant sunshine.
With each step I take, I use all my energy to endure and sustain my worries. All I need to do is take a deep breath.
The rain is heavy, and I feel the weight of it baring down. Just a few more steps. I can do this.
I reach the peak and use all my strength to pull myself up.
I wave my hands in victory.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher