Posts Tagged ‘Morning’
Feb
Frozen Morning
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The bright light of the dawn greets him with a cheerful glow, sneaking lies between the buildings.
His breath forms thick clouds that mocks him with its resemblance to cigarette smoke. His fingers ache in his tattered gloves. His legs creak as he raises himself from his bed to face the whitewashed town, bleached clean of its sins.
Looking back towards his bed, the cardboard’s damp. Ragged sleeping bags and repurposed plastic have brought him into the frozen day.
Children laugh in the distance. The rumble of snowploughs begin, pushing the salt-weakened snow into heaps of black slush.
From Guest Contributor T.W. Garland
Feb
Parasitic Sea
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A stillness descends on the empty beach. The children are asleep in cottages. How many of you stepped on shells and hurt yourselves? How many of you were stung by jellyfish?
A small light shines far away over the dark sea. It rushes faster than the waves, dashes across the beach, and dives deep into the scratched feet of the dreaming children. And it divides, multiplies, and devours.
The next morning, the children wake and run toward the sea. They leap into the waves and swim away.
It’s time to go home. Are your parents going to miss you, kids?
From Guest Contributor Natsumi Tanaka
Translated from Japanese by Toshiya Kamei
Natsumi Tanaka is a writer living in Kyoto, Japan. Her short stories have appeared in journals such as Anima Solaris, Kotori no kyuden, and Tanpen. She is the author of the short story collection Yumemiru ningyo no okoku (2017). Translations of her short fiction have appeared in Fanzine, Star 82 Review, and The William & Mary Review, among others.
Oct
Boss
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The dog was known as Boss by the Belfast housing estate kids. They heard harsh scratching as he desperately tried to crawl away from his tormentor, his muzzle leaving a dark trail of blood from where the first round had hit him in the face. His life trickled away from him through the short grey hairs on his jaw; an occasional desperate snarl ripping apart the cold morning air before he began whimpering again like a child.
Lining up the rifle sight, his tormentor watched the heaving chest, pressed the trigger and the pavement was awash with blood and fur.
From Guest Contributor Bernie Hanvey
Jul
Later Life
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Given the choice, I would want to be the sort of shrewd, goatish old man it’s said Rodin was, strolling the broad boulevards and ornate arcades of Paris after a productive morning in the studio, a young Russian-born French lady leaning lightly on his arm, and if her eyes were too wide apart for her to be considered a classic beauty, or if she didn’t actually read any of the books he recommended, he wouldn’t care, because it had just turned fall, and the air was like a crisp white wine, and they always felt at least a little drunk.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie co-edits the journals Unbroken and UnLost.
Jun
Blues For Beginners
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My mother went in the hospital for heart surgery and never came out. What would make someone leave all this? It’s a question I often ask myself when I get up in the morning or when I lay down at night. Take cleaning your sheets seriously; there’s sweat and drool and worse on them. (By the way, meat tenderizer and saliva remove bloodstains.) The old bluesmen had voices caked with blood and as scuffed and battered as their guitar cases. No one will believe you live the blues if you wear a suit – unless, like me, you’ve slept in it.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is on the pavement, thinking about the government.
May
A Normal Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Bree walked up the subway steps into the abundant sunshine. It was a beautiful fall day, and the streets were filled with pedestrians hurrying to work. Cars honked and buses came to a halt at their designated stops. It was a normal day in the city of Manhattan.
Bree stopped for a bagel and tea at the cart in front of her building. The owner greeted her good morning and handed her the lightly buttered bagel and tea, sweetened with Equal and skim milk. After paying, she turned.
The rumble under her feet would be a moment she’d never forget.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
May
Drought’s End
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was almost dark and he pulled into his driveway a happy man.
He had planned to be home in time for lunch, or at least to be at home at lunchtime, home in time for his favorite talking heads to read him the news he’d missed in the morning while he showered so as to make himself presentable at his favorite café, his best black journal open, crying out for him not to allow yet another eight-day lapse without so much as a single penstroke.
It was almost dark and he was happy to have generated three whole sentences.
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Mar
Jesus Christ Superstar DJ
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The most impressive thing Jesus has done recently other than walking on water and dying for everyone’s sins is buying that used turntable at a yard sale. From the moment his fingers graced the platter, he couldn’t stop himself from shredding sweet jams, morning, noon, night.
Wrists limp in constant trance, eyes filled with stars, he gave birth to melodic mixes that wafted through windows and pierced hearts.
The evening he stood on that stage holding the Cincinnati DJ Superstar rhinestone-encrusted first place trophy, a tear streamed down his cheek. This one’s for me, Dad. This one’s just for me.
From Guest Contributor Ashley Jae Carranza
Feb
The Painful Meditations Of A Modern Day Buddha
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Kevin enjoyed the contemplation of his morning walks, the perfect ritual for tuning out from his devices. Sure, he’d steal the occasional glance at his phone, but only to ensure he wasn’t missing an important message.
By 9am, the sidewalks were normally empty, so when the preteen on his bicycle came wheeling towards him, Kevin was surprised. He expected the kid to move into the grass or skip off the curb, yet he continued straight towards him, until Kevin had no choice but to step aside.
The anger rising inside him at the inconvenience was certain to ruin his day.
Jan
The Swimmer
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Last summer it was warm with sun drips. The rain would pour and pour, filling my yard to a pond. When one morning I had a visitor inside this blue and ceramic bird feeder a little creature peeking his head out with excitement. I peeked in not knowing what to expect. It was a tree frog with little suction cups on his feet, so cool. He leaped out and climbed onto the tree so fast looking for something. I guess he was trying to find a huge raindrop to drink from. He was snatching magic, a raindrop with a rainbow.
From Guest Contributor JoyAnne O’Donnell