Posts Tagged ‘Parents’
Apr
Rubble
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The ruler of the rubble sits at the end of a table that reaches around the world. Who will live to see his reign unravel? The babies, who grow up somewhere else? Will they return middle aged, full of stories from their broken parents, and older brothers and sisters who went to school in their own country, saluted their own flag, played in the sea that belonged to everyone? Surely they will come, full of sadness and anger, looking for remnants of family left behind. Grownups, who pick up handfuls of rubble and say, this used to be my home.
From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe
Dec
In Pursuit Of Tomorrow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A young boy shaped sand sculptures. His parents combed the beach with a metal detector. When clouds rolled in, mother rose, balancing on the only leg spared in a shark attack.
Over driftwood, shells and rocks they trampled to reach the trail that would lead them to a road.
Father turned for one last glance of the abandoned tanker anchored by the coast. He had heard of buried treasures from at least a dozen ships in those turbulent waters.
As he imagined newly acquired wealth for his family, the sea tossed out a bottle. Nestled inside was a folded note.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction. She resides in Alberta, Canada.
Oct
Lucy’s Life
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
CONTEST SUBMISSION:
Lucy peers out the back door. “Hey, squirrel, stop eating my parents’ tomato garden.”
The squirrel faces Lucy. “Since when do you talk, little dog.”
“I bark because that’s what dogs are expected to do with humans. I could ask why you only talk to animals, but I’m sure the answer is the same.” Lucy puts her paws on the door and growls a warning.
“Fine, I’m leaving. I’ll go scavenge in the woods.”
“There’s my Lucy,” says her mom as she enters, and Lucy jumps on her legs.
If only her mom knew what’s going on in Lucy’s life.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
A Poverty Of Love
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The guests looked on with complete bewilderment as my future parents exchanged what sounded like ironic wedding vows. Afterwards at the reception, a farmer sang about his favorite crop and then it was the best man’s turn to speak. He had barely begun when my father interjected, “Spare us your life philosophy.” The wailing that arose might have been especially invented for the end of the world. Everything was burning. People, drapes, carpets, tablecloths – everything. In years to come, my brothers and I would pick through the blackened ruins. Haven’t you ever noticed that only the poor have dirty hands?
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s latest full-length poetry collection, Gun Metal Sky, is due in early 2021 from Thirty West Publishing
Dec
Assembly Required
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
His parents were poorly assembled themselves. Throw meth and booze into it, and no wonder he grew into a discombobulated mess.
Those who tried to help fled after one too many black eyes from his spazzed-out fists. Well-meaning therapists nodded blankly as he sobbed.
One part worked, though: his left pinkie.
Undoing himself was no walk in the park; piecing himself together was the challenge of a lifetime.
Through trial and error, he bravely persevered.
And one day, like a miracle, all his parts beautifully aligned—with only an occasional faint clicking sound to remind him how far he’d come.
From Guest Contributor Michelle Wilson
Michelle Wilson’s words have appeared in Entropy Squared, 50-Word Stories, 101 Words, Literally Stories, The Miami Herald, and elsewhere. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida. Sometimes, she can be found here.
Oct
Dreamland
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The lake has an island that has a church on it with fine black cracks etched all over. It’s the place where disaster originated. Everything else has been declared safe for visitors. The sky is an orange I never experienced before. A smell like the rancid diapers of the spawn of Satan crawls through trees. A fox poses in front of a sign that says NO JEWS AND ANIMALS ALLOWED. Joggers, dog walkers, and parents with strollers slow down as they go past. I catch the expression on their faces, mostly a combination of surprise and puzzlement. Sometimes they smile.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of two new poetry collections, The Death Row Shuffle (Finishing Line Press, 2020) and The Trouble with Being Born (Ethel Micro-Press, 2020).
Oct
Beauty Of Life
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Walking through the park’s garden, the fresh scent of grass and flowers soothes me. The leaves are slowly blowing in the breeze and the chipmunks race around the path.
Children are laughing and playing baseball while their parents proudly watch, and it reminds me of my own childhood summers, playing catch with my friends while my father coached us on our throws.
I wish I could go back and be young again, but I can’t change time. I’m elderly, brittle and fortunate to be able to walk at my age.
This is why I’m thankful for the beauty of life.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
The Voice
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Beginning on his sixteenth birthday, Kevin began to hear a voice in his head. A friendly voice, it offered advice and made recommendations regarding both important and unimportant topics alike. Kevin thought of it as a friend.
As time passed, the voice gradually became more insistent about certain themes. Of particular concern to the voice was what car insurance Steven used. This seemed like an unimportant matter to Steven, who was content to stay on his parents’ insurance policy with Allstate. This extremely bothered the voice, and eventually Steven relented.
This 100-word story has been brought to you by Geico.
Jul
Melodious Birds
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Erik sat silently in the small attic, fatigued, and his legs aching from being crunched together in the confined space. His father had told him to stay quietly hidden until the birds chirped.
Before the gunshot, his mother screamed. His father yelled a profanity, then he heard another gunshot and muffled his cries.
As Erik awakened, the birds sang. He slowly opened the creaking door and went downstairs.
In the kitchen, his parents bloodied bodies laid on the floor and a Nazi soldier stood against the wall.
“Ich habe gewartet.” I’ve been waiting.
A gun was aimed at Erik’s head.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
The Century Plant
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
People lined up around the block, masks on, cameras and children in hand. The news spread fast, as these things do in 2020, via Facebook and Instagram. Some thought it might be a hoax, but any excuse to leave the house was welcome.
The woman who planted the Agave was just ten years old when she and her dad had picked placed the little cactus in their front yard. She’d decided to hold onto the house after her parents moved to Florida hoping to see it flower someday. Now, despite the crowds and reporters, the long wait had been worth it.
From Guest Contributor Alice Ryder