Posts Tagged ‘Mother’

11
Mar

The Cemetery Of Buried Feelings

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I would pretend to be sleeping when he flipped on the light in my room. He would loom over me until my eyes opened. The walls would seem to lean in. Fear would distort my breathing. If I tried to scoot away, he would grab me by the arm and drag me back and crack me across the face with the flat of his hand. He was buried on a cold Sunday next to my mother. Some thirty people, mostly family, attended. It began to snow as stood at the graveside. He had finally found a solution to his loneliness.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie co-edits the online journal UnLost, dedicated to found poetry.

4
Mar

Limits

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

This can only last so long. There’s stuff I have to do. I gotta catch up on work and go for a run still today. I have papers due by midnight and I just put a pizza in the oven. I don’t have time for this. My friend keeps texting me “get on the game.” This can only last so long. I’m organizing due dates, scheduling movie nights with friends and stuttering replies to my mother. This can only last so long. My phone lights up with her face again, but like this poem love can only last so long.

From Guest Contributor Anonymous

I’d prefer to remain anonymous however I’d like to say a little about myself. I am not a writer but a teenage kid trying to graduate. I enjoy thinking deeply and taking the chance to put my thoughts on a page in a creative writing class is nice.

5
Jan

Stirring Up The Pots

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Everything under control?”

“Absolutely,” I responded, stirring the contents of the left pot, checking on the right.

Gravy bubbled up delicious aroma. Steamy chocolate swirled to the ceiling, taking me back to the time I watched mother make the same recipe.

“Darn!” my inner voice screamed. “Cornstarch lumps!”

I reached for the blender. Meantime I detected a slight burning cocoa smell and set the dessert sauce aside.

“Fifteen minutes left!” the announcer yelled.

A panel of judges awaited each contestant’s creations.

“Interesting combination with chicken,” one stated, sampling mine. “There’s brandy. Definitely chocolate. Cherries are divine. What’s your dessert sauce?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction regardless of the season or location she finds herself in.

27
Dec

Relativists

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

A twin, jealous of her sister’s looks, sends her into outer space.

-The joke’s on you, says their mother. She will return younger than you. And, she’ll look even better.

Doesn’t she know time is an illusion? Then again, she believes the sun rises and sets.

-She knows an illusion when she sees it, says the mother. She’s always been the smart one.

The mother glances down at her watch. It runs more slowly when in motion, treating time like taffy: the greater the pull, the more it stretches.

-Gravity, she seethes.

You always liked her better, says the twin.

From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Cheryl’s recent fiction has appeared in Switch, Does It Have Pockets? Gone Lawn, Necessary Fiction, Pure Slush, and elsewhere.

29
Nov

Perfect Spring Day

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Rob stares out the window at two young girls playing jump rope while their mother and grandmother cheer. The girls are chortling and clapping without a care.

The birds swoop overhead, and leaves blow in the light breeze. It’s the perfect spring day.

It becomes too hot by the window, so Rob backs away.

“Hello son. Let’s go outside. The doctor says the fresh air will do you good.”

Rob nods and wheels his chair toward the door. His dad pushes him the rest of the way.

The girls will be jumping rope, while he looks on from his wheelchair.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

28
Nov

Justice Delivered

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It left a strange taste in her mouth, just as Robert said her first would. But it was successful and could launch her career. A perfect heart shot at 300 yards. There are those that will want to know who made the shot. She left traceable evidence of her sniper nest, so the exact shot distance would be known.

Maybe it should have bothered her, but it didn’t. What’s one less human trafficker in the world? She’d happily trade his life for one less girl trafficked. At least one mother got the justice she wanted and will sleep well tonight.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, Dime Show Review, among others.

24
Nov

The Whimsical Sun

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It always rained where I lived, and the sun never showed its face. January to December: an encore of relentless grey days.

Sometimes during the summer break, when the gray became unbearable, my mother allowed me a night’s stay at my best friend’s house next door.

There at her place, we would play late into the night and there was always an abundance of hot chocolate and stories to go around. Late mornings, while we were still in bed, her father used to roll up the clacking blinds, and tiny motes of dust danced in the sun, just like magic.

From Guest Contributor E. Rhyme

18
Sep

Motherhood At Starbucks

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Motherhood at Starbucks.
A boy of 3 discusses his day’s activities with his mother.
While enjoying his cookie.
In a moment of grace, he offers his mom a bite of his treasure.
His prize for perfection– His cookie.
She accepts knowing that this perfection may not come again.
They discuss their plans that are meaningful only to them.
I am amazed at the fluidity of their grace and their understanding
Of one another.
I wonder what our lives would be like if we were so blessed.
Except on holy days when angels guided us home, happy, in love.
And sacred.

From Guest Contributor Sandy Rochelle

Sandy Rochelle is an award winning and widely published poet, and filmmaker. Her Documentary film Silent Journey is streaming on: http://www.cultureunplugged.com/storyteller. She is the recipient of the prestigious Presidential Literary Award. Publications include: Dissident Voice, Wild Word, Verse Virtual, Indelible, Haiku Universe, Every Day Writer, Poetic Sun, Ekphrastic Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and others.

12
Sep

Ingredient

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Of course Mickey was very honored that the great wizard Merlin asked him, an apprentice, to fetch an important ingredient for his secret potion.

He rode for days to get to the desert hills, where he encountered a wolf’s nest, five cubs and their mother. Without hesitation he pulled his dagger and turned her offspring into orphans.

Wolf’s milk was a peculiar ingredient Merlin requested for his magic potion, he thought.

On his way back, he saw plants he had never seen before.

‘I should bring some home and who knows, Merlin could find some use for these too.’

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°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.

21
Aug

Not Hurt

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

At 11:30 p.m., Mother woke and found her son Bin wasn’t in bed. She scurried into the living room and found the siblings watching cartoons.

“I was so worried, my baby. Go to bed with Mom,” Mother said to Bin gently. She then glared at Lan, “Don’t be a bad influence on your brother!”

“But Mom, it is Bin who wanted to watch cartoons. He begged me to stay with him,” Lan tried to explain.

Mother shouted, “You are the elder sister. You are supposed to take good care your brother. Never do it again!”

Lan pretended she wasn’t hurt.

From Guest Contributor Huina Zheng

Huina either coaches her students to write at work or write stories for fun after work.