Posts Tagged ‘Tears’
Feb
Roses
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Apprehension accompanied me to my car. How would they react? With sadness? Indifference?
I placed the bouquet lovingly into the trunk, holding back tears.
The intended beholders knew nothing of its history. Nor of the person who presented it to me. Roses, once of warmth and vivid pink, had crumpled to shades of aged dryness. Like his love did, when he left for another and I didn’t realize he meant it for real.
I set the vase onto my desk in the classroom, for my art students to observe, interpret and present their creativity onto canvas—of a life stilled.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Aug
You Know It
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Gordon refused to acknowledge the accusations Heather levied against him.
“It’s you who’s been sabotaging this relationship from the very beginning, not me.”
“See, you’re doing it again. You turn everything around. You know it, too.” She was so angry, she was nearly choking on her tears. Heather always started crying whenever they got in an argument. To gain the upper hand. And he was sick of it.
“If you’re so unhappy then let’s just break up.” Whenever he threatened ending everything, Heather immediately calmed down. She was scared of being alone and she knew it.
“I agree. We’re through.”
May
Another Broken Heart
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
They’d warned her. They told Sheila that he wasn’t boyfriend material, let along worthy of marriage. But she hadn’t listened. Sheila believed that if she stuck with him, Greg would prove them all wrong. He had hidden layers.
Then Greg decided it was over, and here she was in tears. The same thing had happened again. Her girlfriends didn’t need to say, “I told you so.” Her therapist didn’t need to remind her of repetitive behavior patterns.
Greg wasn’t the one. And thinking that he might be after their first date said more about her than it did about him.
Oct
Runnin’ On Adrenaline
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m amazed at how much energy I can muster after that dreaded phone call. It doesn’t matter it’s 3:00 AM. I can sacrifice sleep. I’m dressed in a flash and on the road racing to the hospital, running through hallways, arriving before your final breath, “I’m here Dad, I love you.”
You whisper, “Always remember Helen, you’re my queen of queens.”
And after arranging your funeral, packing your clothes, arguing with my siblings about who gets what, I drag myself home, plop down on the bed thinking I’ll pass out from exhaustion, instead, I think of you and tears erupt.
From Guest Contributor Charles Gray
Sep
A Family Affair
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I couldn’t help but keep my hand on my stomach as the baby kicked inside. “Jace, you can’t tell Jeffrey the baby is yours. It would destroy him, our marriage.”
He took a gulp of water. “He needs to know. If you don’t tell him, I will.”
I grabbed him by the shirt. “Please, Jace, don’t tell your brother.”
He pushed me away; I lost my balance and fell. I hit my head hard and blacked out.
When I awakened, Jeffrey was by my side in the hospital.
I knew from the tears in his eyes the baby was gone.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Sep
Lightning
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Are you ready?” Tim asked.
“Somewhat,” Clara answered, holding a child by the hand. “Who can be? Are you?”
“You want to know like the rest of us,” interjected another neighbour.
“It won’t be pretty,” Tim struggled, unable to say more.
A shuttle-bus pulled up to take them, along with others. They drove down Main Street. Shock froze their faces. Some sobbed.
“Mother nature started it,” the driver said, shaking his head.
Lightning struck the forest outside town limits. Wind fueled the flames in the direction of their town.
“My house is gone,” Clara choked back tears. “Yours too, Tim?”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Feb
Home
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The muffled voices from outside the closed door play behind every memory. The echoes of arguments filled my ears each night as I fell asleep. The stinging sliding down my face and the taste of salt along my lips fills me with comfort. My frowning face in the bathroom mirror, as I rinse the dried tears from my cheeks, is a clear picture of me. Home is a safe place. I feel safe behind those doors. I feel safe tucked in my bed. I feel safe as I cry myself to sleep. Home is the familiar noise of troubled souls.
From Guest Contributor Selah Mantravadi
Feb
What The Stars Saw
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The stars saw her face, someone who wishes wildflowers never died, thunder always accompanied rain, and the sounds of the waves were something that left the shoreline. Even the tears she shed when she thought it was only her and the items of clothes on the floor because the mirror just did not look right. The stars saw the smile she wore when he cherished her in the dark and the tears she lost when she was left to her own company on the worst nights. Some nights the stars were enough. Some nights, she wished they would do more.
From Guest Contributor Caitriona Mullenix
Jun
Orange Sky
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The sky has turned a hazy orange from wildfires capable of creating their own weather. Pages are torn out of books to further feed the fires. Birds wildly flap their wings to escape, only to go round and round in circles. Everything that isn’t predator is prey. Sisters of Mercy are forced to strip naked on the edge of a burial pit, folding their arms over their breasts in misplaced concern for modesty. Today is without a tomorrow. The roof burns, and we let it. My eyes fill with tears from the smoke, but I have never seen more clearly.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie’s newest poetry collection, Heart-Shaped Hole, which also includes examples of his handmade collages, is available from Laughing Ronin Press.
Mar
Blue Lights
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“In the basement?” I throw my face at Sunny. Gosh. I hate him sometimes. “What could you possibly want to show me…in the basement?”
The bulb above us illuminates his smile. “Just open it, Sophie.”
I push the door, and I gasp.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Yes. Just like you.”
“Where did you get this Sunny? It must have cost a lifetime.”
“You’re worth a million lifetimes, Sophie.”
Tears anoint my cheeks.
“One more thing.” Sunny flicks off the lights. The white dress glows an azure sheen.
He kneels. “Will you marry me?” A ring sparkles in my face.
From Guest Contributor Tom Okafor