Posts Tagged ‘Sleep’


Duty And Thoughts Of Alisen

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

A sweep of peach graced the western sky…maybe. Sleep deprived, he couldn’t really be sure. Vision might be compromised, eyes too bloodshot to discern the ambiguous purity of grey dragging the downpour along the horizon.

And the windows were filthy.

Sunday eyed him from the corner, placid gaze sharpening as her head rose from his Nike, quasi-spaghetti dangling from open maw.

He identified with the drool-laden laces.

“Curious passion,” he said, observing the dog…but thinking of Alisen.

Sunday growled, mouthing the trainer, front paws tensed and backside hoisted by her wagging tail. Play and a walk.

Duty called.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid


My Armor

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He was my life, my armor, my smile, my savior, my everything. Lost him! I Will never see him again. I’m sad, grief stricken, but not devastated. I did my best, was there for him with everything required to always keep him going. I did love him more than anybody else and we shared the same feeling. He loved me more than anybody else. His kisses I miss. I don’t cry but long for him secretly. All day I laugh, I’m merry with my toddler. The moment I close my eyes he’s there waiting for me.

I sleep more now…

From Guest Contributor Manmeet S Chadha



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I was about to toss you out. End our years of coexistence.

Reminiscing helped me see you in a new light. Made me realize how good
you’ve been to me.

Through difficult as well as good times you were there for me. Your
goal to please was simple. You aimed to brighten my dark evenings and
make me feel safe at night when I couldn’t sleep.

I’m thankful for your enduring warmth. For without you, I wouldn’t
have been able to orientate myself in these surroundings. Nor read my
favorite books.

Lamp I’ve owned for countless years, we belong together.

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


Supermarket Sleep

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Wednesdays, post-second shift, bone-marrow tired, Kyra grocery-shopped. To stay alert, she categorized customers, itemized their purchases.

First: class, marital status, number of kids, happiness level. Pony-tailed woman opposite Kyra? Pinching pants tight in the crotch? Must be married ten years; barely making do managing odd-lots store; two sucrose-loving preteens; miserable as a mutt, minus flea collar, August.

Cart contents: Pony tail and family down waffles, wings, PB & J, rolls, store-brand sherbet, Bud, Coke.

Kyra’d be sad, eating that.

Pulled leggings, smoothed hair. Double-take: her mirrored reflection! She’d best snap out of this, load check-out counter. Be on her way.

From Guest Contributor Iris N. Schwartz

Iris is a fiction and nonfiction writer, as well as a Pushcart-Prize-nominated poet. Her work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in such journals as Bindweed Magazine, Connotation Press, The Flash Fiction Press, Jellyfish Review, Quail Bell Magazine, and Random Sample Review.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

There was an old man who never slept at night. I saw him often from my room, I recognized him but didn’t know him.

I used to see a flickering light in his room, it disturbed me and didn’t let me sleep. I wanted to shout ‘could you turn off the light’ but never did.

My sister got married and I shifted to her room. I never saw him again; now all I get to see is a closed window with broken glass. I wonder where he’s gone? Previously, the open window disturbed me and now it’s the closed one.

From Guest Contributor Preeti Singh

Preeti is a french language interpreter and a media professional who is engaged in writing short films and playing characters for tv series.


A Night On An Empty Skywalk

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The skywalk at the Santa Cruz railway station which connects SV Road in the west to the highway in the east was empty that night. He took his time to walk eastward, each slow step was counted so as to not reach shelter too quickly. Sleep was not cheap.

On the eastern end, another man was on the run from the police with a gun in his hand, having outdone the police. The emptiness of the skywalk seemed like the best possible thing. He could make his escape. Only then he saw a well-dressed man walking lethargically on the bridge.

From Guest Contributor Debarun Sarkar


English Ivy

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Flamboyant scarlet blossoms arched twisting, winding heirloom English ivy. An

unexpected downpour ignored by the water-soaked guests. Whitewashed mason jars

splashed crimson pallets of rustic rural splendor. The music began, he stood nervously

waiting, looking down at his rented black shoes. She grasped her father’s arm. Fervent

desire charged fiery passion. Sugary words melted sultry shadows. Fireflies and fairy

dust lit moonless nights. Silence invited the darkness. Substance replaced by distance;

whiskey preferred to a kiss. Emotions frost bit in autumn’s showy splendor she’d climb

grasping, experiencing struggle with the fortitude of English ivy. She knew he watched

her sleep.

From Guest Contributor Christy Schuld


Road To The Suburbs

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Her house was situated next to a busy route. A road which connected the city to the southern parts of the suburbs.

The whole year, living in that house without wired broadband, with the incessant dust of the road, and the smell of pollution as the trucks roared by; she could barely sleep.

In her dreams she murdered and killed drivers of four-wheeled vehicles, and imagined a day when she could make their lives miserable.

The next year the media went gaga over the unaccounted increase in car crashes on that road. She was not on the list of suspects.

From Guest Contributor Debarun Sarkar

Debarun sleeps, eats, reads, smokes, drinks, labors and occasionally writes stories and submits them. Recent works have appeared or are forthcoming in Off the Coast, The Opiate, Aainanagar, Rat’s Ass Review, Cerebration and here at A Story in 100 Words. He can be reached at


Mid-Night Dilemma

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Am I awake? Had I actually slept? I was fighting the urge to check my watch but the curiosity of what unholy hour this was got the better of me.

Slipping my hand out from under the sleeping bag I paused.


Just close your eyes, go back to sleep it’s too early for this.

As I closed my eyes, my thoughts swirled attempting to deduce and desperately seeking an answer I knew would destroy my chances to sleep again this night.

Just sleep.

I can’t.

Inevitably the unbearable urge won and I was cursed with the answer I sought.

From Guest Contributor Michael Major


Feeling Blue

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Blue is a breeze blowing wisps of hair across my cheek. Red is juice running down my chin as I bite a sun-ripened strawberry. Green, the scent of freshly cut grass, blades rippling and tickling the soles of my feet. Purple is the fading warmth of a summer’s evening. White, a smooth window pane on an icy winter morning.

I feel these things because I was born deaf, and my vision melted away soon after. I sometimes imagine fleeting specks of color from my first glimpses of life, but those memories exist only in the moments between sleep and waking.

From Guest Contributor Megan Cassidy

Megan is an author and English professor currently teaching at Schenectady County Community College. Her first young adult novel, Always, Jessie will be published by Saguaro Books this spring. Megan’s other work has been featured in Pilcrow & Dagger, Wordhaus, and Gilded Serpent Magazine. For free excerpts and deleted scenes of Megan’s work, check out her website or follow her on Twitter