Posts Tagged ‘Paper’
Jun
The Homes Of Birds (Nature Contest Winner)
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m very excited to present the winner of our Nature Flash Fiction Contest, from regular contributor Brook Bhagat. Someone might look at the strange format and say it’s more of a poem than a short story, but my favorite poems are the ones that tell a story as well. Plus I liked it so this is the one I’m choosing. Congratulations Brook! And thanks to everyone who participated. A lot of great stories.
I understand the funeral I have the address the dress the time
it begins with smiling cameras and ends with paper tablecloths, cold cuts and deviled eggs downstairs
even worse is the sunshine, all those empty minutes left
I would have lost it
if not
For the hike, still in our black together,
you and Ben, the boy,
me and my sister arm in arm
down the easy path at
Garden of the Gods,
lighter than before, noticing the homes
of birds in the rocks and remembering
we are just a moment, fragments
of a mystery that flies and sings.
From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat
Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror Magazine, Harbinger Asylum, Little India, Rat’s Ass Review, Lotus-Eater Magazine, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. She and her husband Gaurav created Blue Planet Journal, which she edits and writes for. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University, teaches creative writing at a community college, and is writing a novel. Her poetry collection, Only Flying, is due out Nov. 16, 2021 from Unsolicited Press. See more at brook-bhagat.com or reach her on Twitter at @BrookBhagat.
Stay tuned for an announcement soon about our next contest!
Jan
The Chronicle of Higher Education
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
What is inside you is going to come out. I think of it as a crime scene. You have brought your dead cat, placing it wrapped in a pink baby blanket on the floor. I feel in the wrong just being there. Before the exam starts, you ask the girl seated behind you for paper, but are given a slice of bread. I can’t explain it. I would need to Google you to find out. At the front of the room, the proctor makes a gun with his thumb and forefinger and then holds it to his temple and fires.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie Good 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.
Jan
Incensed
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The crumpled notebook paper can’t be hurt, no matter how hard it’s thrown. An anemic crackle sounds at impact, a lazy, pointless attempt to uncurl is its sole achievement. The lopsided wad sits atop the unburning end of a Duraflame log. Mercifully, black char ashes the paper’s edge, further loosening the ball until gravity pulls it down to hearth. Still misshapened, I see blue ink, evidence of the second worst opening line in the history of writing. The winner is in my fist, ready to toss to the flames. It’s the only way to bring fire to my words today.
From Guest Contributor DL Shirey
DL Shirey lives in Portland, Oregon, writing fiction, by and large, unless it’s small. He has been caught flashing at Café Aphra, 365 Tomorrows, ZeroFlash, Fewer Than 500 and others listed at www.dlshirey.com and @dlshirey on Twitter.
Nov
Thanks For Asking
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You ask me what my faces mean, if I trust people, what I think of you. You ask what I think about everything. You are amazed by what I see. How I can feel what’s invisible. Through miles and miles of walks, the no-destination drives, the not-so-torturous library hours, you keep listening to me, even when I’m quiet. I’m amazed that you can hear me over the sounds of our beautiful, loud friends, who think attention is inevitable. I trace my hand on paper: a habit. You copy on the other side: an unbalanced coin. Two sides of separate things.
From Guest Contributor Grace Coughlin
Grace is from Buffalo, New York. She is currently a Senior at St. John Fisher College, majoring in Psychology with minors in English and Visual and Performing Arts. She has 100-word stories forthcoming in Eunoia Review and Otoliths Review.
Oct
New York Strong
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I climb the subway steps into the abundant sunshine. The weather is warm and it’s just another September day. Or so I think…
Paper is floating in the air; the sky darkens and desks tremble. Nearby buildings disappear in clouds of smoke. I watch wide eyed from the fourteenth-floor window across from the World Trade Center. Screams are unbearable and angels fall with a thunderous thump to the ground. My heart pounds and I can’t breathe. I don’t comprehend the horror; the fire, blackness, death.
The towers collapse, but eighteen years later we’re strong for the victims and their families.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Mar
Bespoke
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Gordon hated being measured. It wasn’t just the crinkled-paper hands running over his body, but also the implication that in the intervening months he had changed shape.
This was the price he paid for original attire. Whether it was too familiar touches or jealous stares, Gordon’s success was a constant chore. Yet these labors must be endured, for triteness was the precursor to death.
Let the old man fondle his buttocks, and the common folk stare at his unconventional wardrobe. He was one of the few people in the world that could claim he was truly one of a kind.
Feb
The Gift
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Today the mailman came with a special delivery package. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and bore no return address. I was required to sign for it, which I did, and watched the mailman jump in an unmarked black van and speed away. I took the box inside and set it on the kitchen island. I wondered who might have sent it. I have no friends or family. It’s a peaceful life. Then I heard the screaming—a man’s screaming. Hard to make out at first, but once you keyed into it, you couldn’t stop hearing it for anything.
From Guest Contributor Meeah Williams
Dec
Paper Thin Walls
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Graham’s 300 dollars a month bought him a two-room sublet on the Upper East side. The twenty-four hour access to entertainment from his coterie of neighbors was complimentary.
He was privy to all manner of arguments, heated conversations, shouting matches, and late-night confessionals. After only a few months, he was googling “How to become a therapist” now that he possessed real-world experience. Then there was the lovemaking.
Graham stopped watching TV soon after moving in. He found more value from the real lives around him rather than the fake ones on his television. He finally understood the meaning of authentic.
Feb
New Start
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A new year, a new start and I’m ready to begin my novel.
“Okay, I need a protagonist and an intriguing plot. I can definitely do this.”
I turn the computer on, fill the printer with paper and sit my butt down. Then I stretch my arms, put my fingers on the keyboard and stare at the blank screen.
“Okay, what’s my character’s name? Charlie Strong. Now, I need a plot.”
After typing, Charlie Strong sat at the table sipping coffee, I froze.
“Well, so much for my new start.”
I get up and make a fresh pot of coffee.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
The Tiny Box
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Rosa watched the Christmas lights flickering on the house across the street. Green, red, blue and white, gleaming through her window. She took a sip of tea and let the warmth settle in her stomach.
Under the Christmas tree sat a tiny box from Steve, neatly wrapped in gold paper and a red bow.
A year had passed since Steve’s death and Rosa wouldn’t open the box without him.
Deep inside she knew what would be in the box, but truly knowing would break her heart.
Every year Rosa continued putting the box under the tree and never opened it.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher