Posts Tagged ‘Tears’
May
For Life
by thegooddoctor in Uncategorized
“Pillow fight!” Jenya yelled.
I tossed the pillow at her, and white fluffy stuffing went flying. We both giggled as we bounced on the bed in our pjs until Mom came in.
“Enough, girls,” she said, smiling. “Time for bed.”
We lay our pillows down and panted, holding hands. “Best friends for life?” she asked, hooking her pinky in mine. I nodded.
I lay my hand against the bed, and the tears fell as I recalled her last days. “For life, Jenya,” I said, remembering all those years we had lain side by side as sisters. And now, never again.
From Guest Contributor rani Jayakumar
Mar
The Silenced
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She did not say yes.
The silence of more fear than cultural respect was not a sign of consent. The tears on her face at the dawn of her ‘big day’ were not a sign of consent.
The lashes fell upon her, one, two…
She had dreamt of wearing green for her wedding. Red was her mother’s choice.
His voice was loud it silenced her lips.
Ninety-eight or was it already past hundred? She’d later count the scars on her back, looking at her reflection in the broken mirror stained with blood.
She never wanted marriage.
She never wanted this.
From Guest Contributor Anne Silva.
Anne is a student writer from Sri Lanka. She publishes her writing on social media as Poetry of Despair.
You can read them at www.instagram.com/PoetryofDespair.
Nov
Her Sacred Space
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sammy was buried in the garden, behind a shed. Rose stepped daily over a trail meandering between overgrown shrubs to get there.
She told Sammy how dearly she missed him. How her life lacked happiness, excepting visits from grandchildren.
They would’ve delighted seeing him. But it was different for them. They lived elsewhere in town. Their lives filled with interests young people sought.
Only when Rose died did her grandchildren realize her loneliness. Close to the burial ground, hidden under debris, they uncovered a stash of cigarette ends.
Undoubtedly saturated with the tears she shed for her beloved Chihuahua, Sammy.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
Oct
Unspoken Memory
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Memories surfaced as the woman on the balcony leaned against the balustrade, her young daughter beside her.
She had been joyfully preparing to tell him the wonderful news. She cooked a special dinner and waited for his return from work. She opened the bedroom window, breathed in the fresh spring air, and watched the passersby. A group of people gathered near a stopped buggy. Tears rolled down her cheek. There had been no mistake. It was his still body.
She gently hugged her daughter and watched the young girl’s red hair blow in the breeze. The same color as his.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
A New Home
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
“Hi, we’re the new foster parents. Are the little ones ready?”
The woman who opened the door has tears in her eyes.
“You’re early.”
“We were anxious to see them.”
“Promise me you’ll take care of them.”
“Um… certainly, madam.”
“I’ll get my husband.”
A man comes to the door, carrying a basket and then handing it over.
“Is everything all right with the missus? She seems a bit upset. She IS aware we will end up eating them, right?”
“Sssst. No need to remind her of that.”
“Maybe you should consider to stop giving away free tomato plants, then.”
From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys
May
A Picture Of Him
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The rain came in through the window, but she didn’t move to close it. Her eyes were fixated on the picture of her late husband.
His toothy grin, unkempt hair, and the obnoxious Rolling Stones t-shirt brought a smile to her face. She had forgotten how goofy he could be when taking a photo. He had the complete inability to be serious when a camera was pointed at him. The various ridiculous poses and his exaggerated grins came to mind and made her chuckle to herself.
She gently traced his face with her fingertip as tears glided down her cheeks.
From Guest Contributor Zane Castillo
Apr
The Witness
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
Her footman stood in the midst of the crowd on the grounds of the White Tower. He could see the scaffolding, the glistening executioner’s sword, and the block where his lady would place her head. Then, Lady Anne climbed onto the scaffolding.
Holding back his tears, the footman listened to the Queen’s prayerful last words. He watched as the attendants removed her mantle of ermine and blindfolded her. She knelt down.
With one swift stroke, the French swordsman ended the life of Queen Anne.
The footman turned to his friend and cried, “If only she had given him a son.”
From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin
Mar
Head Held High
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Amira’s mother quickly pulled the floorboard out, placed her daughter in the hole, shut it, then heard a loud bang. They kicked in the door.
“I knew we’d find a Jew here. Where are the others?”
Anita held her head high. “There are no others. Only me.”
“Take her.”
Amira’s body trembled as she listened to the footsteps and voices above.
“No, I won’t let you take me,” Anita struggled to break free and was shot. She dropped to the floor and whispered her daughter’s name.
Amira held back tears as the Nazi’s laughs and footsteps faded from her ears.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
How It Was Is How It Will Be
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
No one claims to know how the Hebrew slaves came to be heaving the shriveled bodies of the dead into raging furnaces. Soon their throats swelled from the smoke, and they couldn’t swallow or eat, and then their eyes turned red, and everything looked blurry, as if seen through the sting of tears. I feel less certain every day about my own chances. I go to sleep afraid, and I wake up afraid. Sometimes I’m even chased down the street, shoes slapping the pavement, but when I glance back, I can’t quite see who it is that is chasing me.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.
Oct
Reunion
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Imagining their reunion had helped her do unspeakable things since the Collapse. The cold night crystallized her tears. Others might mistake the flicker on the mountainside for a twinkling star, but she knew it’s a candle burning in the window–their sign. Don’t worry baby, she thought, Momma’s coming.
By daybreak, she had reached their cabin. Its warmth draped itself around her like a blanket. Wiping her shoes on the mat (force of habit) a small thing flew out of a cupboard and pinned itself to her legs. “Mummy! I missed you!” David emerged; his face already crumpled with emotion.
From Guest Contributor Carla Halpin