Posts Tagged ‘Mind’
Jul
Possibly Stephen
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The writer stared at the page, expecting inspiration to spring at him from the fibres of the old-style reporters’ notebook.
Words trickled…gushed…cascaded. He ripped the page out, rolled it into a tight ball and chucked. It bounced off the bin, thran as the incorporeal muse.
“What was wrong with that?” she asked, form flickering in the draught.
“It was in Latin,” he spat.
She giggled a bit. “Sorry, my mind wandered. I know, how about–?”
“Look, could you put on something less filmy. It’s distracting. Tired, not dead.”
“Tweeds okay?”
He nodded, and wrote Misery.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
May
Daydreaming
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Morning. Walking to the shops in a daydream, hungover. My mind wanders and takes me somewhere else….
I am sitting at the bar in the Wolf Dog Tavern with John. I ask the landlord to sub me a fifty. The landlord moans, ‘go and cut some lawns and make your own money.’ I tell him that I will have money next week. John was going to cut his lawn by the fish factory.
A lady snaps me out of my reverie, I must have be talking aloud and waving my hands.
‘You alright?’ She asks assuming that I am mad.
From Guest Contributor Declan Kelly
Declan lives in Mayo, Ireland. He is a big fan and follower of Irish heritage, culture, and beer.
Apr
In The Dark
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Sit down!” someone yelled.
“I need to find out what happened,” I yelled back.
“We were told to wait,” a woman insisted.
The stage went dark. My mind revisited twirling silks, accelerating swings.
“Pity she fell. A beautiful performer,” the man next to me said.
“She wanted to be a aerial trapeze artist since turning twelve,” I replied.
“Difficult to replace,” he added. “She was so talented.”
“Why in the past?”
“Because,” he said while checking the Internet, “It appears she may have…”
“It’s my only child,” I sobbed, rising to walk away from my seat.
No one stopped me.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
Apr
Murderous Intentions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He sat on the park bench. Waiting to find his next victim. Women pass by as they take their morning jog.
A woman with meaty thighs and blonde hair grabs his attention. Not too slim, not too heavy. Right in the middle. She is the one. Time to work his magic. He jogs beside her.
“Hi I’m John. Let me just say that even if there wasn’t gravity on earth, I would still fall for you.”
“Smooth, but cute. I’m Kathy.”
They jog together. His mind wanders. How is he going to kill her? Stabbing? Poison?
So many endless possibilities.
From Guest Contributor Alexa Findlay
Alexa is a Creative Writing Major at the University of California, Riverside. She spends her time writing fiction and poetry. Her work has been featured in Pomona Valley Review, Better than Starbucks Magazine, Adelaide Literary Magazine, Halcyon Days, Grotesque Magazine, Blood Moon Rising Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review, and A Story in 100 words, amongst others.
Apr
Tell Me Lies! The Truth Is Harsh. Give Me Hope While I’m Falling Apart.
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He gazed at her, longingly, knowing that it would never be. His dream crashing down upon the floor. Broken words won’t help no more. Her mind was made. His heart–betrayed. He brushed her cheek: a simple good-bye. What more could be done? What more could he supply? He fell to his knees, “my sweet don’t leave!” But, she just left him there to grieve. He fell to the ground, in a sprawl, as the only sound he heard were high heels, echoing off the wall.
There is no time to sit and wait.
Take life’s hand and run with fate.
From Guest Contributor McKenzie A. Frey
Feb
Layers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Her mind acts as warden, keeps her in her room most days.
She confesses to me that one week straight, she huddled in the dark base of her closet. She had built a nest within, its four tight walls comforting her like an eggshell: no demands made upon her, no chance to fail.
I ask what she will need if she comes home. She cannot answer, and so I build a table with layers of blankets both over and under it, where, like the Princess, she can feel despair creeping in even if it is the size of a pea.
From Guest Contributor Laura Lovic-Lindsay
Nov
The Death Of Tales
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The mist glistens with false promises. The canopy drips blood of myriad misled bards vanquished by the Mediocre tribe.
The incantation echoes through the rain forest, causing even lianas to cringe. “We have decided not…”
The shaman feels tears slow to a reticent trickle from still-closed eyes. His heart freezes with horror, sharp mind balking from interpretation.
“Vates!”
It takes a moment to understand he is being addressed.
Lids snap open. “Yes?”
“Did the Mystic Mushroom bring wisdom?” The bard asks, handing him a bowl of spring water.
Cathbad rises from the straw bed. “No, Carolan, a warning of ignorance.”
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Sep
Alma’s Journey
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’d always known about my husband’s cheating, but when he was home, he was good company. Now he’d left.
Was I losing my mind, too?
“Leave Miami,” my daughter had said. She’d just given birth to my only grandchild. “You can start over with us in Orlando.”
What was she was thinking? She knows I’ve never been more than thirty miles from home.
I looked down. The purse I thought I’d lost was between my shoes.
Picking up my purse, I couldn’t wait for the train doors to open fully—my daughter cradling my granddaughter on the brightly lit platform.
From Guest Contributor Geoffrey Philp
Geoffrey is the author of the YA novel, Garvey’s Ghost. He teaches English and Creative Writing at the Inter-American Campus of Miami Dade College.
Apr
The Night’s Hope For A Better Tomorrow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Dreams projected on a ceiling from a restless mind. A vision of a better tomorrow plays from the imagination onto the stucco. With pleading hope for happiness to join the rising sun, the reality of sadness can be temporarily cast aside. Muscles relax and the burden lessens with the promise. Eyes close and colors dance a firefly ballet on the back of eyelids. Fantasies and nightmares disturb the slumber but recede with the buzz of an alarm clock. Golden rays of butterscotch pour through the glass and warm the face. I rise, we all rise… with hope in our hearts.
From Guest Contributor Jordan Altman
Mar
Rain Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I stare out the window watching the torrents of rain pound the leaves on my maple tree and listen to the ferocious wind hit against the siding of my house. My dog Patty barks and scratches the windowpane. I pull her next to me on the couch and rub her stomach, the only thing that soothes her. Roads are closed due to flooding and I’m stuck at home.
I had an argument with my boss yesterday about not getting enough time off. Now I’m home and bored out of my mind watching the clock.
It’s funny how things turn out.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher