Posts Tagged ‘Tears’
Oct
Locked
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Depression lives with me. Locks my mind in a formidable place. It allows limited interactions with the outside world. Pushes aside the people who love me.
When I feel ready to emerge, it tempts me to abandon the thought. I’d peer out of windows opened to the world and sniff the air. Then, recoil. Preferring the comfort of what I know to something new.
Today, its hold is difficult to resist. A backpack filled with textbooks stays put in my bedroom. The bed becomes my refuge. The pillow, a sponge for tears.
The lock on my school locker remains locked.
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 Stories.
Sep
Preserved
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It floated in a four-foot cube glass case with runes etched into the gold frame and tiger’s eye gems set into all eight corners.
Connor found his gaze drawn to their chatoyant lustre and wondered if the sphere was only an optical illusion.
“It must be,” he verbalized. “There’s no such thing–”
“Ah, ah…unnatural,” the mage corrected. “You were never going to get this from nature.”
The image of Claudia moved inside the time-bubble. Connor watched his daughter smile: a welcome change from the burial mask.
“I’ll take it,” he said, smearing tears with the back of his hand.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Aug
Grief, Lack, And The Last Transmission
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The cities were brought to a grinding halt by the death of the Great Leader. There was grief and tears, on personal media feeds, the walls, the screens, holograms, everywhere, even the real faces and eyes.
The psychologist-in-charge at the ground control station of the manned extra-solar expedition warned her supervisor not to intimate the traveling crew. She had warned, but the supervisor in his grief, blurted out the news to the Captain.
That was the last the world ever heard of the traveling space shuttle and of its crew. XT9 became a haze among the frequencies and disappeared forever.
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 Visitant, Off the Coast, The Opiate, Aainanagar, Literary Orphans, Friday Flash Fiction and here at A Story in 100 Words, among others. He can be reached at debarunsarkar.wordpress.com
Jun
Homecoming
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Years of content memories awaited familiar arms. Angel wings brushed bedposts softly, listening for command. Good-byes graciously accepted. Passing without fear, anticipating this new journey, unknown. Each shallow breath now numbered, every fragile heartbeat heard. Yesterdays spent letting go of earthly things and people deeply loved. Words need not be spoken, it was understood. No sorrow or regret. She would miss them, but only for awhile. Withered hands smiled, soothing random tears. No pain present, peace her blanket. Voices heard yet distant, creased lips pressed in prayer. Fading eyes searched light, bent fingers directed misplaced hair. Would he recognize her?
From Guest Contributor Christy Schuld
May
Blood In The Dirt
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The man strolled to the saloon, thinking about what he had done and what he would do now. His family had been killed and thanks to him their murderers were dead too. Revenge had been his life from the time he was fourteen.
He pushed his way up to the bar. He ordered a whiskey and sipped it.
A drunk yelled at him to pull his gun; it didn’t matter why to him.
He said, “Not here,” and he walked into the street.
The drunk followed.
“I’ll see you all soon,” the man muttered as his tears fell. “Now draw!”
From Guest Contributor Dylan Baker
Mar
Staking A Claim
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It started with his touch and before that the way he looked at me; clear blue eyes that knew how to take me in, how to see through my quiet, my fear. We explored city streets that summer, always attached, love-linked. A goodnight kiss turned couch tumble—hungry hands searching, lips and teeth crashing, his weight pinning me down. And then that surprise on the back of my neck: sweat, tears so sweet. Surrender, yes, maybe even love; but later, and better, trust and understanding, an intimacy that allowed regrets to be shared, my darkness to escape, a homestead staked.
From Guest Contributor Holiday Goldfarb
Holiday is currently enrolled in the MFA Program in Writing at Lindenwood University, Saint Louis, MO. If all goes as planned, she will graduate in December 2016.
Mar
Bringing Back The Dead
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She gasped as he removed the scarf from his face.
“Don’t be afraid my love, I’m here,” he whimpered, choking back tears, “see me, see me for all that I am.”
Silence. Gut-wrenching silence.
Anguished, she bowed her head. With one deep breath she finally let him go. “The man I loved is not in this room, I do not see him before me.”
“You wear his face but he is not you, you are not he.” She turned to the door, her lip quivered, her voice shook as she softly uttered their final exchange, “Goodbye darling, you’re free now.”
From Guest Contributor Jodi S. Ivers
Dec
Mall Christmas
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Christmas shoppers crush the mall their noisy chatter drowning out tinny holiday music. Fairy lights glimmer from boughs bedecked with fusty smelling red bows. At the epicenter of the mayhem is Santa Claus, surrounded by dingy fluffy snow. Corralling people into a staggering line, the elves keep order as Santa’s beard is yanked — it’s real! — and wishes whispered in his ear. A ruffled and flustered child heads for the over-sized presents next to Santa’s worn throne. Ripping shiny paper away, the child’s eyes fill with tears — it’s empty! A quick-thinking elf offers a fat orange. Tears gone. Christmas is saved!
From Guest Contributor D. K. White-Atkinson
Dec
Santa Ritual
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I’m ten, too old to sit on Santa’s lap. Tell my parents. Please, someone?
Last year I was a brat, on purpose. Cracked inappropriate jokes, tugged his beard, farted on his pants. Hoping my message would come across.
Yet, here we go again. When asked what I want for Christmas, I belted out my thoughts.
Santa was speechless. Mom and Dad stared. Parents with kids waiting to meet Santa looked like icicles.
Then, I remembered Scrooge. “Sorry Santa,” I said, not letting him see my tears.
“You’re forgiven, son,” he replied. “The greatest gift is love. You already have that.”
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 Stories.
Jun
Blink
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She’d strain each time to keep her eyes open as long as possible, until tears were rolling down her cheeks, but no amount of effort was enough to stop the inevitable.
The lifetimes had started to pile up, some tragic, some painful, all of them heart-wrenching in one way or another, but never were they uneventful. There were times when she wanted a new life but usually she became attached and knowing she had to let go was the worst part.
But what could she do? She was cursed to live an entire lifetime with each blink of an eye.