Posts Tagged ‘Time’

31
Oct

Echo Of Time

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I watched the child in the blue sweatshirt jump in the leaves, laughing. What a delight to have heard the echo of his chortle as I sat with the cool autumn breeze against my face. I had my novel opened at the same page for the last fifteen minutes, my eyes focused on the fair-haired boy.

He plopped down, waved his hands through the leaves and looked at the clear sky.

I closed my book and lifted myself up with my cane.

The boy had gone and all I saw were leaves blowing in the park.

That boy was me.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

29
Oct

My Cannibal Summer

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Hurricane season is upon us. Heat is the agitation of molecules. Today it’s raining, and my car is lonely as an empty swimming pool. Like a lost pilot, I drive myself around and around, although I don’t know where I’m going. All I can hear is black and white noise. Yesterday, I combed my hysterical hair, so I looked like someone based on real events. When I applied for the lifeguard job, I told them I prefer select flesh, and I never let the weather bother me. Was Amelia Earhart’s body ever recovered? I’m pretty sure there is still time.

From Guest Contributor Brad Rose

19
Oct

The Clock Tower

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The clock tower, situated in the center of the town square, afforded views of the entire valley. No shadow could hide from its rapacious stare.

Townspeople went about their business quietly, all eyes on the ground, hoping to avoid unwanted attention.

Rebecca and Victor met in the churchyard green. They’d yearned for each other since youth, but had never managed to share even kiss. Now might be that moment.

Time stopped. The entire town froze.

When the clock resumed, Rebecca and Victor, despite being certifiably sober, returned to their homes after once again awakening from a stupor under mysterious circumstance.

29
Sep

Why Do I Lose My Voice When I Have Something to Say?

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Jo cleared her throat. She’d prepared for this moment from the instant an audience had been granted. This was a safe space to share her story, to give voice to all the degradation she’d suffered at his hands. She would finally see justice done.

Instead, when her time arrived and the judge called her to the stand, Jo found she was unable to speak. It was everything that she feared. Just like during the interrogation. At the inquest. During the trial. The truth was they’d arrived at this moment despite her many failures.

Maybe she didn’t deserve justice after all.

4
Sep

Gone

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Twenty years of marriage, twenty years of building a life together. Buying houses and cars. Now she is gone.

For twenty years, she was my everything. The smile in my morning, the sunshine in my day. But now it is dark and quiet.

One argument led to cruel words. Cruel words led to hurt feelings. Hurt feelings took time to heal, but heal they did. Things returned to normal for us. Life continued for us as a couple. Then it happened.

One episode of indiscretion, it wasn’t such a big deal. Deal breaker, she said. She is never coming back.

From Guest Contributor NT Franklin

30
Aug

Americana

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The diner, Elmer’s Pitstop, recalled a simpler time, when coffee refills were always free and quarters were collected for eventual use in the jukebox. The server, Gina was her name, enjoyed the work and could actually raise a family on the income.

Bennett still enjoyed a good diner, even now that they were considered, at best, a novelty. Elmer’s had the best milkshakes in town. Did people not like milkshakes anymore?

He sighed as he surveyed the chaos. The outlines on the floor, dark red shadows marking where six people had died, were more gruesome than bodies would have been.

29
Aug

Afternoon Tea Party

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Eat this, Mom,” she said, handing me a plastic donut.

“Mmm,” I said, pretending it was delicious. I put it down and asked for more tea. Giggling, she poured air into a pink cup.

Someone pounded on the door.

The pot dropped to the table. I slid our pre-packed bag out from under the bed. She clung to me, like a baby monkey to its mother, and reached for her doll.

The door was giving in. Soon, it’d be off the hinges. I hoped we had enough time. I opened the window and my heart clenched.

The FBI waited below.

From Guest Contributor Bethany Cardwell

19
Jun

A Nice Girl

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Samantha read The Great Gatsby, to her elderly grandmother Millie,
again.

She sat with the book in one hand and her coffee mug in the other. The
small room was warm and cozy as the sun beamed through the window.
Samantha took a sip of coffee and listened to the birds chirping and the
ticking of the wall clock. It was time to leave.

She kissed Millie on the cheek. “Okay, grandma, see you on Sunday.”

Samantha’s eyes teared as she left, knowing her grandmother no longer
knew who she was, other than a nice girl who came to visit.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

30
May

The Warrior’s Path

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The warrior sharpened his sword every day by slicing individual strands of grass. He started in the front of his house and worked his way, patch by patch, blade by blade, towards the back. When he finished the last corner, the grass in front had grown long again. Without pausing, he would get to his feet and return to the starting point, ready to start over.

In this way, his weapon remained sharp, always ready to draw blood. And in this way, time had nothing with which to compare itself to and became lost.

Such is the path to immortality.

21
May

Revenge

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Home for a funeral, I pop into my local of yesteryear.

I recognize that boozy bleary-eyed pig face propping up the bar.

Wilkins, the school bully!

Wanker!

How he’d tormented me forty years ago, but clearly he remembers me not.

How I’ve fantasized about going back in time and standing up to him!

But now he has aged, badly, looking like a grotesquely inflated beach ball with his vast beer belly, all muscle turned to flab.

I fantasize about following him out at closing time and beating him up but desist, for life has already done the job for me.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher