Posts Tagged ‘Smile’
Jan
Welcome, Everyone, To The Vortex Universe.
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One night, the sky’s illumination changes and Harland sees the galaxy open up. The stars fade away as hundreds upon thousands of brand-new ones are born. The light reappears, and he watches as, one after another, the familiar stars disappear again. After a new dawn, the sky will shine with the beauty of new creation, as new forms of life will emerge, be nurtured, become powerful, and change the course of history.
Harland’s vision starts to fade, and he rests his head on his desk in silent contemplation and smiles. The grip of the world slips away.
Life is good.
From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster
Nov
Scars
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I weave between trees, around my bike and up the stairs. The screen door slams in my wake. Through the kitchen, I run for my room. Behind me, my brother stretches out his Gumby-hand. He’s within inches of touching my skin. Inside, a tick is dying to suck my blood.
Years later, I’ll run on the beach. You’ll chase me with something in your hand. Perhaps a periwinkle plucked from a nearby dune. You’ll hand it to me and smile. Say you love me. I’ll take it, hold the flower to my nose, and wonder what it wants from me.
From Guest Contributor Sally Simon
Sally (ze/hir) lives in NY. When not writing, ze travels and stabs people with hir epee. Read more at www.sallysimonwriter.com.
Oct
The Long Battle
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The heat has taken its toll on my men and the tents smell of sweat and rotting flesh. The battle raged taking many of my soldiers, still left in the trenches, their corpses exposed.
I take refuge in my own tent and remove my wife’s letter from my uniform pocket where I’ve kept it for the last month, her encouraging words the only solace to get me through this hell of a war. The scent of her fragrance has worn, but I envision her beautiful smile.
A loud explosion startles me. I inadvertently drop the letter and run for cover.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
Two Hearts Beating
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m very excited to announce the winner of our Robots flash fiction contest is Two Hearts Beating by Marcelo Medone.
Thank you to everyone who submitted stories. It was definitely hard to pick a winner, and it was exciting to see a mix of stories from regular contributors and brand new authors.
If anyone has any suggestions for contest themes, please let me know in the comments or hit me up on Twitter
I led Lisa through the maze of underground corridors. We had no time to waste; the exterminator robots were on our trail.
“I’m exhausted,” Lisa told me, panting.
“We have to get to the vault. Only there we will be safe,” I replied, without letting go of her hand and moving even faster.
Suddenly, we ran into an automatic barrier, equipped with a heartbeat detector.
“CHECKING,” a voice yelled.
“TWO HUMANS, CORRECT,” it announced, after a few seconds.
The door opened for us.
Back in the vault, I gave my best artificial smile and was thankful that Lisa was pregnant.
From Guest Contributor Marcelo Medone
Marcelo (1961, Buenos Aires, Argentina) is a fiction writer, poet, essayist and screenwriter. His works have received numerous awards and have been published in magazines and books, individually or in anthologies, in multiple languages in more than 40 countries all over the world, including the US.
He has been nominated for the 2021 Pushcart Prize.
Facebook: Marcelo Medone / Instagram: @marcelomedone
Mar
Echoes And Reflections
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It follows me everywhere, the inaudible predator. Fixated upon a daily routine, mocking every subtle maneuver that I made. The thing glissades in a deriding dance upon my every step. A replicant of form cast under the luminosity of ever radiant sun.
Signified in our sinister, daily reflections. An entity of faux similarity and duplication. In such replication a truer self and profound verity obtained. Co-conspiring and willingness etched upon that imitation smile. The backdrop of the unstained silhouette and persona versus my tainted hand. A cheering entourage as the blade is always in my hand painted with crimson delight.
From Guest Contributor Brett Dyer
Jan
The Final Procedure
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She lays on the table like a forgotten doll, eyes closed. The final procedure is complete.
Let it work.
A moment of silence, then she opens her eyes. And smiles.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“I’m David.”
“But you’re…old.”
She searches her memory, then cries out.
“The car!”
“It can’t hurt you, Rachel.”
It hurt me. The drunk barreling down the road, right at her. And I, her big brother, her protector, too far away.
She wraps her arms around me.
“Don’t cry.”
I hug her to me.
“What is this place?” she asks.
“My laboratory. This is where I make cyborgs.”
From Guest Contributor Eric Petersen
Sep
Add One More Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Positive and quarantined at home, my days edge along like a snail. Immersed in social media and Netflix, suddenly, I gasp for oxygen. Panting for a breath, I’m rushed to the hospital. Tethered to oxygen, I yearn to hug and cradle my child. I have to bake her birthday cake. I want to see her victorious smile when I lose at UNO. I must leave a lingering kiss on my husband’s lips. Flustered by my thoughts, I inhale into darkness.
Cool air blows as the blanket is snatched off me. “Mom, the Zoom password is incorrect.” I breathe in relief.
From Guest Contributor Hetal Shah
Hetal graduated with her Bachelor of Commerce from SIES. She lives in Mumbai with her husband, son, and daughter. She rekindled her hobby of writing over the past year. She is the winner of Mumbai Poetry League 2020, and her poem was published in an anthology by Poets of Mumbai called Guldastaa A Bouquet of Poems. She also writes flash fiction, and has been published twice on 101words.org. She loves to read, and especially enjoys reading and writing stories of romance and everyday life. Besides writing, she enjoys cooking new cuisines, traveling, and singing.
Sep
Tremors
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My clammy palms drip sweat and my icy feet shiver. I barely fit on this stiff, creaky bed. From the haunted murkiness, a shadow emerges and creeps around.
Drowning in the claustrophobic silence, I am trapped. No one hears my heart’s pounding rattle. As he looms from the dark, my throbbing stomach twinges and my wobbly legs quiver.
He lifts the thin sheet off of my legs and I clench my fists timorously. I tremble in trepidation as he plunges the invasive latex-covered wand into my body.
Moments later, he tenderly pulls it out and smiles. “Your baby is healthy.”
From Guest Contributor Hetal Shah
Hetal graduated with her Bachelor of Commerce from SIES. She lives in Mumbai with her husband, son, and daughter. She rekindled her hobby of writing over the past year. She is the winner of Mumbai Poetry League 2020, and her poem was published in an anthology by Poets of Mumbai called Guldastaa A Bouquet of Poems. She also writes flash fiction, and has been published twice on 101words.org. She loves to read, and especially enjoys reading and writing stories of romance and everyday life. Besides writing, she enjoys cooking new cuisines, traveling, and singing.
Aug
Afterlife
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
People say when you die you see a tunnel. A bright light. Angels. Pearly gates. Or hellfire and brimstone, depending on your earthly deeds.
Lies.
There is no tunnel. No welcome by ghostly outspread arms. No river of milk and honey.
Instead, I see a river of blue. Vertical lines of binary code, scrolling endlessly in the void. The emptiness is so vast, it tugs at my soul, a remembrance. Grief.
I begin to walk, seeking. I push back the lines of code like a curtain. And then there you are. Your ocean eyes, your quicksilver smile.
“Welcome home, love.”
From Guest Contributor Heather R. Parker
Aug
Narcissi
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Resplendent in her white dress, she headed down the steps from the veranda. He tightened his parka to stave off the wind and followed.
Behind the house they built, they strode toward the pond, their barren feet leaving a trail along the mucky ground. Her smile was terse, he clenched his jaw. He searched for something new to say, she shook her head. They knit their hands, now ringless, and peered at their reflection.
Later, when the children rushed out to search for them, all they found by the water’s edge was a white lily rising beside a thistle bush.
From Guest Contributor Nicholas Katsanis
Nico is a writer of magical realism and absurdist fiction. His work has appeared in 50-word stories and Literally Stories. Look out for his debut novel Bocce at the End of the World in 2022 and follow him on Twitter @nicholaskatsan1