Posts Tagged ‘Time’

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

26
Apr

Ireland’s Descent

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Niamh clambered down the rocks, grasping grass to ensure balance. Her eyes widened with adoration each time she peered over her shoulder espying tides crashing carelessly against bustling coral. To others it was an empty beach clinging to the base of Irish pastures, but to Niamh her struggle over the roughened pebbles opened the gates of Eden.

Her lens captured what she saw; pulsating amber beasts clinging to years of compressed life, silvery fish darting around with grand families and crabs working hard, hunting. Emerald weeds flowed through natural pools capturing the life of the sun. Images she trapped forever.

From Guest Contributor Kerry Kelly

6
Apr

Tell Me Lies! The Truth Is Harsh. Give Me Hope While I’m Falling Apart.

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

He gazed at her, longingly, knowing that it would never be. His dream crashing down upon the floor. Broken words won’t help no more. Her mind was made. His heart–betrayed. He brushed her cheek: a simple good-bye. What more could be done? What more could he supply? He fell to his knees, “my sweet don’t leave!” But, she just left him there to grieve. He fell to the ground, in a sprawl, as the only sound he heard were high heels, echoing off the wall.

There is no time to sit and wait.

Take life’s hand and run with fate.

From Guest Contributor McKenzie A. Frey

20
Feb

Off Her Rocker

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Annette sits in her favorite rocking chair, by a big window. A gloomy afternoon.

She cradles her dead baby in her pale arms. Hair as white as a ghost. Lips cracked and bleeding. Her body fragile and weak.

She sings a familiar tune. Rocking back and forth, as if trying to put the baby to sleep.

Her watch beeps. Medicine time. She throws the bottle out the window.

The Devil calls her name. She stops her singing. Her body freezes.

“He made me do it. He made me do it. He made me do it…” She repeats.

The devil exists.

From Guest Contributor Alexa Findlay

15
Jan

The Reason He Loves

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“How do you have so much love for me?” my wife asked. We were laying on the couch.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You understand people so well,” she said.

“It just took time,” I replied. “I wasn’t always this way.”

She put her hand on my chest. “How were you?”

“I slept with half the town. I didn’t care at all about anyone.” A shameful silence followed. “One morning I felt empty and meaningless.”

“Then what?”

“I started searching for my soul. When I found it, I was in pain.”

“And?”

“I found the only cure was love.”

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori