Posts Tagged ‘Strength’
Jan
Hot Mess
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She waddled when she walked. Her left arm hung like a donkey dick. She loved to sit in the tub with lots of bubbles and read those silly magazines from the grocery checkout. Those were all she could mentally comprehend. She probably only looked at the pictures.
She was told not to take baths. She couldn’t lift herself out. No longer had the strength. But damned if she didn’t give it a try or two or fifteen. She’d be embarrassed with every rescue. It didn’t stop her from filling the tub and getting in.
The paramedics knew her by name.
From Guest Contributor Laura Shell
Laura quit her day job to become a full-time writer. She will be published in Calliope, eMerge, WINK, and Literally Stories, and will have an anthology of horror stories published in February. When she isn’t writing or reading short fiction, she watches horror movies with her dog, Groot.
May
Victory
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The air is ominous, and lightning brightens the sky. I hold onto the mountain with both hands. I’m an avid climber, but the weather forecast is wrong. The sky is not abundant sunshine.
With each step I take, I use all my energy to endure and sustain my worries. All I need to do is take a deep breath.
The rain is heavy, and I feel the weight of it baring down. Just a few more steps. I can do this.
I reach the peak and use all my strength to pull myself up.
I wave my hands in victory.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Cloudy Day
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Nothing hurts like the pain in my chest or the ache in my head. Thoughts of my grandma’s last embrace grip me. I look up, expecting to see her face in the clouds, but all I see is rain. Perhaps, her tears appear as raindrops, and her face is only visible to angels. I was once her angel. She took with her my wings, the same ones that gave me the strength to fly above obstacles. I hold her umbrella above me, her scarf wrapped around my neck. Some say I inherited her kindness, the only inheritance that truly matters.
From Guest Contributor Ernestina Aggrey
Jul
Sanctuary
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The showerhead above rains hot water hitting the skin hard with maximum strength, like it means it, sending a tingling current that pulls through every fiber. Having a powerful drowsing effect, these watery sounds mingled in heater noises fill the room like a warm blanket. A comforting scent of the body wash lifts the spirit up to a momentarily lightness of serenity. Back against the wall, I stare emptily at the floor as if I can see through it to the scornful world beneath. I think I still have some time to go…or do I?
“May I come in?”
From Guest Contributor David Chek Ling Ngo
David Chek Ling Ngo is a professor at a Scottish university in Malaysia.
Jul
Hands
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My mother’s hands frail and worked. Her crepey paper fingers and running rivers of lines pass along the hilly blue mounds of veins. Many cultures stand proud of ages proof as it displays wisdom, strength—a life lived. Honored one should be of the achievement—living.
What do they know?
I watch as these hands perform tasks, ones they always have, no longer recognizing them. They are not my mothers anymore; they are mine. The words wisdom—a life lived whisper at my ear, and I try to catch them in the wind. These hands—I want to obliterate them.
From Guest Contributor Dianne C. Braley
Dianne is a nurse freelance writer and blogger from Hamilton, Massachusetts.
Jun
Hylas
by thegooddoctor in Uncategorized
The journey with Hercules was arduous. We sailed the ominous sea, and the storm destroyed our ship. Stranded, with few survivors, I searched for a lake to quench our thirst.
As I came to a clear, calm stream, a lovely naked woman rose before me, her long black hair drenched and covering her breasts. She pulled me under with the strength of a man, as other women surrounded me.
“Relax, Hylas, we are here to please you.” Her voice melodious and soothing.
I drifted for what seemed an eternity and surfaced as if nothing had happened.
The ritual began again.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Forgiveness
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She walked along the deserted beach, cold wet sand hard underfoot, leaving her well-formed arch, her heavy heel dug-in tight, her human track. She scanned the choppy grey ocean, a seagull skimming along ready to dive. Looking ahead, an outcropping of massive black boulders stumbled together into a makeshift Henry Moore sculpture. The solid blocks of granite, columnar or reclining, soft-edged or angular, were reminiscent of her mother. The stoic strength, the impermeability, the dense solid weight of judgement. She had framed her adult life accordingly, with a negative imperative: I will not be like my mother.
From Guest Contributor Holiday Goldfarb
Sep
The Veil Of Light
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My body wakes to join my mind in shock as scenes of a distorted world vanish, and realization sinks in. The darkness of the world I inhabit dissipates, and the light arises once more. Haunted by the past and present, but none so terrifying are they to the unknown of the future. That eldritch thing that lurks behind the veil of light, creeping across the land and praised by the Cult of the New Dawn. I lie here in fear, hoping and praying that I possess the strength to face it once more, to conquer the daemon of the day.
From Guest Contributor Michael Atherton
Jan
Death’s Splendid Gifts
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Death and beauty were bound by love.
Its strength bore them two children in turn.
A prophet, intuitive and quick.
A defender, strong and kind.
Content together, all offered their talents so the world could partake of their bliss.
Beauty blessed creation, allowing all to enjoy its earthly splendor.
The prophet gave insight to decipher and atone for man’s errors.
The defender offered courage and strength to the masses.
Death bestowed his touch to all, releasing them from life’s toil.
Under their hand, humanity found constants, forever extant as long as man lived.
All inevitable, all wondrous and all binding.
From Guest Contributor Michelle Vongkaysone
Mar
The Vigil
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Even to this day I curse, swear and kick myself for having dozed off that painful night. Though I kept vigil all through her illness, the feeling of guilt has never subsided.
She was my strength.
I knew the meaning of the cloudy eyes and immobility. After three consecutive nights, the strain on my eyes was too much and I slipped. It was at such a weak moment she chose to give up her fight…that hurt me.
My being awake at her last moments would mean nothing, but I feel guilty for expecting the death of my loving pet.
From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore.