Posts Tagged ‘Money’
Nov
Big Money
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Howard entered the school’s front office Monday morning following his Saturday wedding. The head secretary smiled at him and cooed coquettishly, “Ooh, Mr. Morgan, how’s married life?” The other secretaries smirked, eager to hear his reply.
The question amused Howard. He didn’t know what to say so he pumped his fist in the air three times and said, “It’s fantastic. I’ve doubled my income. Life is good!”
“Oh! Oh!” the head secretary shrieked, hands flying to her throat. “You’re just the most horrible man.”
Grinning madly, Howard walked out of the office thinking, What a great start to the day.
From Guest Contributor Robert P. Bishop
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
Dec
Every Mickle
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The local Farmers’ Bank went belly up.
It was a cooperative concern, like many in the region. The Secretary of the Bank had taken a loan in her late husband’s name on forged documents. Almost all the staffers either embezzled or connived with the defalcators.
Investors, most of them traders and peasants, were shell-shocked. Some blamed themselves for their imprudence while others huddled indecisively.
Kali, the old woman who sold candles, also had a deposit in the bank.
As the bank’s director exited from his car, she confronted him.
“Where’s my money?” Kali yelled, catching the man by his collar.
From Guest Contributor Sathyajith Panachikal
Sathyajith. P.S has reconciled himself to the reality that it is impossible to be reborn in an ancient past with a smartphone and internet connection. Currently, he is trying in real earnest to regain the originality he had when he first chanced upon this planet.
Nov
The Good, The Bad, And The Stinky
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s said to be good luck for homeowners when a carpenter leaves a tool in your walls after a job. They might hide a fish in the vents if they get screwed over for money. It will take years for the smell to dissipate. Whoever built this house went a little too far. At least that’s what I’ll tell the police.
They’re still looking for my partner. I suspect that she and the contractor left town with my money.
In my mind, I can still see the bodies, skin crumbling, bones exposed. The smell of flesh lingers inside my skull.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Oct
Apologia Pro Vita Sua
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A college-age girl collecting money – no doubt for a worthy cause – rings the doorbell, sending our little white dog into a barking frenzy. Sorry, I tell her after kicking aside the dog to get to the door, but we gave last week. She doesn’t believe me. I can read it in the sudden hardening of her face. If anything, she’s probably thinking it’s necessary sometimes to kill what is in order to bring about what is not. I start to shut the door and then stop and glance up the street. The falling leaves die saying, I want to go.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie Good’s latest poetry book is The Horse Were Beautiful (2022), available from Grey Book Press. Redhawk Publications is publishing his collection, Swimming in Oblivion: New and Selected Poems, later this year.
Mar
Keep Movin’
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
—Get in the car, doll.
—Where we goin’, Roy?
—To get us some money.
—Gonna buy me something pretty?
—The world, babe.
—Slow down. You almost—
—Look in your purse.
—A gun.
—Know how to use it?
—Point and pull?
—That’s all.
—Who’m I gonna point it at?
—You’ll see.
—Why the mystery?
—There’s Buster, on that park bench.
—You gonna stop?
—He ain’t movin’.
—Looks like a bullet hole in his head.
—Change of plan, doll.
—Who killed him, Roy?
—Wasn’t me.
—Didn’t Buster teach you all you know?
—Main thing he said was, keep movin’.
—Slow down, Roy.
From Guest Contributor Joe Surkiewicz
Joe writes from northern Vermont.
Feb
Vegan Vigilantes
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The joint was cased. All that remained was the decision: this coffeehouse or the Dunkin’ Donuts on the bypass?
Roland sauntered inside and scanned the menu–coffee and sandwiches–on the back wall.
“Can I help you?”
“Anything vegan?”
Bewildered: “Uh, vegan? Er…”
An older barista, working a blender: “Nothing vegan.”
Roland stepped back, leaned against the wall, phone to ear: “Mook, it’s the shop on Main. Even worse than Dunkin’. Pick me up in two minutes.”
He replaced the phone with a gun and approached the counter.
“Since your menu isn’t cruelty-free, I’ll take your money. Open the register.”
From Guest Contributor Joe Surkiewicz
Joe writes from northern Vermont.
Sep
The Lions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was coming home and it had to pass through the (Gareth) South Gate.
I wanted to witness this, so I hurried. Normally I’m a (Kyle) walker, but this time I had to (Jordan) pick Ford as means of transportation. Money didn’t matter, I had so much pound (Raheem) sterling in my pocket that I could have bought (Mason) Mount (Harry) Maguire if I wanted to.
During halftime, they played a song I like: Sugar (Harry) Kane.
I had a bowl of (Ben) white (Declan) rice, but it felt like eating (John) stones.
This really was a (Jack) grealish day.
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
Hervé Suys (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.
Jan
The Paisley Tattoo
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We couldn’t afford real tattoos – we were too young, anyway – so we borrowed a stick-and-poke kit and I let Jim attempt a yin-yang symbol on my back. Mom called Jim the artistic twin; said he needed an outlet – but that was the encouragement of a mother loving her son too hard. His sweaty hands shook and slipped; after an hour, he quit, and we never spoke of it again. On our eighteenth birthday I had my brother’s work converted to a paisley that I’d later recreate for a favorite tie; Jim spent his money on a different set of needles.
From Guest Contributor Rich Gravelin
Rich writes short fiction from the woods of central Maine.
Nov
Served
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“You are served!”
“Why?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Hmm. No contact, the papers state, so I won’t know. Let me think. I haven’t bought her a birthday present for four or five years, but she doesn’t like what I buy anyway. I always turn over all of the money I make. She is a great bookkeeper. No ‘out to dinner,’ but I cook often. I don’t do dishes. The kids are grown and out on their own. We don’t talk too much. I imagine she emptied out the savings. Where are Ted and I gonna get stoned? Where am I to sleep?”
From Guest Contributor Virginia Timm