Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Nov
Wicked Witch Of The West
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He was a short chapter in my story, merely a page turn, but, in his story, I was the witch who broke his heart, and that bothered me. Knowing he would always view me as the wicked witch I didn’t want that part, I didn’t ask for it. I just could not love him the way that he wanted, and he couldn’t give me the love that I craved, no matter how hard he tried. Years later, when he calls me a whore, I pretend it doesn’t bother me. It’s just his way of coping, and I accept that story.
From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott
Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her master’s degree in English as well.
Aug
Thanks
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I cannot thank you,
little cat with serious eyes,
for your gift of a dead mouse.
I flee from reminders
of killing. I am a vegan, and it would
be easier if you were too.
But then I would lose
your playfulness and pounce, and turn
you into a timid, nibbling rabbit.
I love you for those things,
for your wish to feed me, and for
your love for me, strange as
I must appear to you: so huge,
so hairless, so hopeless a hunter. I am thankful
for what I cannot understand, this strange
love than can span species.
From Guest Contributor Cheryl Caesar
Cheryl lived in Paris, Tuscany and Sligo for 25 years; she earned her doctorate in comparative literature at the Sorbonne and taught literature and phonetics. She now teaches writing at Michigan State University. Last year she published over a hundred poems in the U.S., Germany, India, Bangladesh, Yemen, and Zimbabwe, and won third prize in the Singapore Poetry Contest for her poem on global warming. Her chapbook Flatman: Poems of Protest in the Trump Era is now available from Amazon and Goodreads.
Jul
A Mother’s Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
First it was only yelling. Then she sported bruises. The police carted him away. He came back. He was sorry, couldn’t believe he was capable of that. She let him back in. He escalated. A fresh set of bruises appeared. The cycle continued.
She stayed to protect the child. His safety was all that mattered. A mother’s love.
A protection order was issued, papers were served, the divorce imminent. That was the legal way to handle the situation, but not Dad’s way. He wasn’t worried about legal. He didn’t give his daughter away to be slapped around. A father’s love.
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
Jul
Decision
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The witch stared into the candlelight. The darkness and tempest outside would strengthen her spell, To Make Him Love You More. He wasn’t home yet, now was her chance to cast it.
The thunderbolt’s light lit up the room, and a sparkle under the bed caught her eye. Squinting, she focused on it. A shattered mirror.
“Next time, it’ll be your head.”
Her eyes widened as his harsh words echoed in her ears, and her hand froze mid-air. Without thinking, she flipped to the following page of her open spell book, To Mend Your Broken Heart.
Decided, the witch chanted.
From Guest Contributor Soleah Kenna Sadge
Soleah is a fantasy writer. You can learn more about her and her writings by visiting https://linktr.ee/sksadge
Jun
Love You Till The End
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
I’d never seen a more glorious sunset, even after a tornado. Half the sky was a golden yellow and the clouds above the sun were skeins of vermilion fire. Even the orange flames on the horizon dulled in comparison. Dust in the air; much of it probably radioactive.
We had come out of the root cellar, its door fortunately hidden by an overgrown raspberry patch, where we’d hidden from marauding mobs that had fled the cities, and hidden again when the pursuing troops began shelling. Our house and outbuildings were charred skeletons, the animals gone. We were still holding hands.
From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann
May
Unconditional Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“That damn dog! How did she get out this time?” I asked.
He replied, “It’s my fault. I didn’t secure the back gate properly. Why does she run away like this when we take such good care of her?”
“We can’t take it personally. It is just doggy instinct to hunt. I am just sorry you need to chase her when she does this. Try looking down by the pond.”
Just as he grabbed a leash, the culprit appeared: tail wagging, dirty nose, and a dead gopher in her mouth.
“There you are! Come here. Who is our best girl?”
From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius
Apr
Threatened Birds Nesting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You’re eating lunch on a bench in the park, close to a roped-off area where a sign says threatened birds are nesting. It’s the first nice day in a week. You’re enjoying the spring-like weather when a man you’ve never seen before steps out from behind a tree. He points a .38 special at you, shouts, “I regard Henry Ford as an inspiration,” and fires. In just hours, friends have assembled a pop-up shrine at the spot, with flowers, teddy bears, messages of love and respect. Although not me. I’m reading true crime books in order to gather survival tips.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.
Mar
Love Note
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Even though the sign says, “Do not swim near seals,” we’ll have fun, go on a picnic in the hills, maybe spend the whole night there, so many stars that the sky looks perforated by cosmic buckshot, or we’ll sleep in and then helicopter over traffic jams, moving, breathing, shining from rehab center to wedding cake palace, while the angel of death rolls a cigarette and the border wall sinks another quarter of an inch, and this will happen again and again and again, people turning up at all hours to complain bitterly about being written out of our story.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press.
Mar
Coda
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He followed the familiar tune through the fog: strings, horns, that impossibly sweet voice. The gloom lifted to reveal the girl, singing her heart out under the spotlight, invisible orchestra in accompaniment. He cried tears of joy, felt love, and also something not quite love.
“You sing it to me every night in my mind. But it sounds so much clearer now. Why?”
She smiled sadly. “Can’t you guess?”
*
“Is he dead?” The reporter watched the killer’s body inside the execution chamber.
“Yes.”
He peered closer. “What does he have to smile about? He murdered that girl right on stage!”
From Guest Contributor Clay Waters
Feb
Obsession
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Are you addicted to chocolate? Creamy on the tongue. Eat it all you want, whenever you want it. Secretly in your room, for you and nobody else. Life’s hard. Chocolate melting in your mouth makes you whole. Briefly.
They’ll call you an addict. They’ll tell you to get help.
Are you addicted to a person? Soft in your ear. Ring her, mail her, message her all you want, whenever you want her. Secretly in her arms, you and nobody else. Life’s hard. Melting into her softness makes you whole.
They’ll call you in love. They’ll tell you you’re lucky.
Briefly.
From Guest Contributor Amita Basu
Amita is a graduate student of cognitive science. Her fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in The Right-Eyed Deer, Gasher, St. Katherine Review, Star 82 Review, Proem, Muse India, and Dove Tales. Her nonfiction has appeared in Countercurrents and Deccan Herald. She has finished a collection of literary short stories, and is working on a mystery novel about art. She lives in Bangalore, India.