Posts Tagged ‘School’
Nov
Of Weak Spots
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Summer holidays meant wagon rides and a delicious break from school.
On the run for letting the poultry loose, my brother and I were making a hidden treehouse.
Later, we would have gone to the bank, devoured stolen nuts, nailed floorboards, as punishment. Together, we would have made jokes. Of weak spots on the fence and Granddad!
However, the treehouse being too feeble, our hands slippery from juice, hearts too unwilling, he fell to death.
Standing on the desolate bank, I glance at the familiar walnut blooms at Johnson’s. I wonder how we never discovered the weak spot in life.
From Guest Contributor Swatilekha Roy
Oct
Locked
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Depression lives with me. Locks my mind in a formidable place. It allows limited interactions with the outside world. Pushes aside the people who love me.
When I feel ready to emerge, it tempts me to abandon the thought. I’d peer out of windows opened to the world and sniff the air. Then, recoil. Preferring the comfort of what I know to something new.
Today, its hold is difficult to resist. A backpack filled with textbooks stays put in my bedroom. The bed becomes my refuge. The pillow, a sponge for tears.
The lock on my school locker remains locked.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.
Jul
Contrast
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A painting pulled me from across the room. Past spectators scrutinizing other exhibits. Past a man commenting on contemporary art.
I wanted to meet the artist and ask what had inspired him.
Hut alone in a field. The dark evening sky contrasted with flaxen wheat. No people or animals.
“Do you like it,” a man asked me.
“Too depressing,” I answered. “Looks familiar.”
“It’s the toolshed on my parents’ farm. As a boy, I took shelter there during a sudden storm.”
“So, you’re the artist,” I exclaimed eyeing him.
I left the gallery realizing we were once classmates at school.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.
Jun
Her Nebulae
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Space lover, every other morning she flips through iridescent images of interstellar clouds. Those nebulae are hers. She has collected many – Crabs and Orions, even Eagle’s pillars.
Today the Eye of Helix is just coming out on her thigh – fine web of filaments, embedded in a red and slate-blue oval. An older mark on upper arm begins transitioning from purple to the shades of yellow and green. She promises herself to find its alien soulmate tomorrow. Now she must go, and she packs her school bag void with hope. The regions of bright nebulosity are safely hidden under shapeless uniform.
From Guest Contributor Natalia Kay
Apr
Paul
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Paul was proud of his bike.
When Mabel walked home after school, he sped past her, throwing some sly remark. Showing off. His grin stuck with her and played havoc with evening homework.
Sometime later, Mabel didn’t see him riding his bike. She didn’t see him at all in school.
Curious, she decided to walk a different route home; past his parents’ house. In the garbage put out for collection was Paul’s crumpled bike.
“Your mom told me about the accident.” Mabel said at the hospital.
“Thanks for visiting,” Paul answered. “No one else from school did.”
They exchanged smiles.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.
Mar
Curiosity Killed
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The house-bricks were as red as the little squirrel which inhabited the tree just outside.
Ciaran was glad he was able to watch the little fellow scamper about, and even left treats on the window ledge…when it had been left open.
Those big frames were too heavy for him to handle and he’d been forbidden to try: they were treacherous when it came to crushing fingers.
He’d heard in school that the American Grey Squirrels were causing the reds to die out. Mum was angry-ironing. He cocked his head and risked a question.
“Mum–?”
The blow rattled his eyes.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jan
Jobs For Humans
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The android smiled at Brad. “Did you enjoy your work day last week?”
“Watching androids build walls? Are there any jobs where I actually do
something?”
The android paused. “A day as a headmaster at a school?”
Later, another android greeted Brad at the school gates. “Mr Earnshaw,
come this way.”
“What will I be doing?”
“You’ll be giving the human day teachers a motivational talk on how
important their role is.”
“Do they teach?”
“The children are busy with android led classes.”
Brad was stood in front of a room of bored humans, and left to do his job.
From Guest Contributor Ross Clement
Nov
Educated
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
At a student’s desk, she wept. A cheerful message written earlier on the whiteboard: “How are you, Miss Jimenez?” in English and Spanish.
“You can press charges, but I wouldn’t advise it,” one assistant principal said. “He is getting suspended for one day. Any bruises?”
Jimenez hung her head. “No, sir.”
“I’d advise taking a personal day, but it’s so hard getting a sub. Besides, you don’t want to look weak,” the other assistant principal said. The radio squawked – an emergency in the bus lane. The AP’s rushed down the hall on the only day Jimenez left at 4:30.
From Guest Contributor Embe Charpentier
Aug
We’re All Learning
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Back to school shopping.
Jennifer wanted pens and whiteout. Stevie picked a package of pink hangers. One by one, items landed in the shopping cart. Mother pushed. Around the big superstore they went. Cart three-quarters filled when they finished.
“Don’t they need new clothes?” grandmother asked anxiously.
“They don’t sell clothes here,” mother answered.
Grandmother frowned. “You should have another colour. Pink is for girls.”
“But I like pink,” Stevie answered.
Mother asked “why not” and turned her face the other way.
Where was I? In the elevator with the family, hearing their conversation as it unfolded to the public.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, and Espresso stories.
Mar
Impressions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Ugh, Dad you cannot send me to that school!” I squealed.
“Why Samantha? It looks lovely there.”
“It is on that terrible estate where children smoke drugs and lose their virginity at twelve years old.”
“You don’t even know the name of that estate, Sam,” my Dad challenged.
A wave of silence flooded the room. My Dad huffed, walked over to the bookshelf, picked up Hamlet and opened it to page twenty-six.
“Come here Sam and look at this page very closely, but don’t read the words. Read between the lines. What do you see?”
I hesitated. I saw nothing.
From Guest Contributor Joshua Wallis
Joshua is a home-school student from the United kingdom, who loathed reading literature until recently! He is looking forward to reading works of great novelists and insightful 100-word stories in the coming years.