Posts Tagged ‘War’
Nov
Live
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The Fuhrer took everything. My husband, two sons, and our home that had been in the family for years. I’m all that’s left. The war is over, but who and what do I have to go back to. I lived through the filth and disease when everyone else was dying and there had been nothing I could do.
When the Americans arrived and liberated the camps, I fell to my knees and wept. I couldn’t believe it was over.
It’s tragic and my heart aches every-day, but I will continue to live, if not for myself then for my family.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book, Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published, and The Importance of Being Short in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.
She currently resides on Long Island, New York with her husband Richard and dogs Lucy and Breanna.
Oct
The Long Battle
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The heat has taken its toll on my men and the tents smell of sweat and rotting flesh. The battle raged taking many of my soldiers, still left in the trenches, their corpses exposed.
I take refuge in my own tent and remove my wife’s letter from my uniform pocket where I’ve kept it for the last month, her encouraging words the only solace to get me through this hell of a war. The scent of her fragrance has worn, but I envision her beautiful smile.
A loud explosion startles me. I inadvertently drop the letter and run for cover.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
War Without Rules
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There were days when the explosions didn’t subside. The sirens became more and more frequent, especially at night. We began to sleep badly. Then one morning, while hurrying to the market, I was struck by flying debris. At the hospital the doctor first looked around to make sure no one was listening who shouldn’t be. “I just need to grab a lab coat and one egg and I can fix this,” he said. He cut my feet open and put pennies in the incisions before sewing them back up and wrapping them in bandages. He said they were lucky pennies.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is a poet and collage artist on Cape Cod. His latest poetry books are Famous Long Ago (Laughing Ronin Press) and The Bad News First (Kung Fu Treachery Press).
Jul
ARP
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I joined the Air Raid Precautions as a warden, ready to serve. I never imagined the danger.
The blackout began, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness. My partner George and I walked the streets and spoke frivolous chit chat when a bomb struck nearby.
We followed the screams into the chaos. Homes and businesses laid in a heap and bystanders wept as they picked up whatever was left of their belongings.
We searched the rubble and found no survivors.
I returned home, fell into bed, and dreamt of my childhood, a happy, peaceful time when there was no war.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Lisa has been writing since 2010 and has had many micro-flash fiction stories published. In 2018 her book Shorts for the Short Story Enthusiasts, was published and The Importance of Being Short, in 2019. Her most recent book In A Flash, was published in the spring of 2022.
Apr
Mother’s Tears
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
In 1991 my parents invited Sharon and I on a cruise to Hawaii and Tahiti (where we had never been). This was during the run up to Desert Storm, the US invasion of Kuwait to liberate it from Iraq. The trip was quite enjoyable, but what sticks in my mind was the sight of my mother crying on the deck when we received news of the invasion. It saddened her to think of her three brothers going to war in the WWII Pacific and Korea. Flying back to the mainland USA I imagined that the plane was filled with terrorists.
From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley
Dec
Soldier’s Return
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It’s been years since I could feel my wife’s hands on my body, and I can’t wait to lay next to her in bed caressing her soft skin.
I didn’t know what to give my kids for Christmas, so I made a collage of all the letters and pictures my son and daughter sent me. I made the same gift for my wife, but with a personal touch, for her eyes only. Their pictures and letters helped keep me strong through the long war.
The bus has come to a stop.
The three of them are here, smiling, anxiously waiting.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Nov
Waiting
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The mud on my face sticks to me from the heat of the sun, and I’m cramped in a hole waiting.
The sound of ammunition and men screaming is deafening. I reach in my pocket and take out the picture of my wife. She’s so beautiful. I close my eyes and envision myself stroking her long black hair and kissing her luscious lips. I miss her so much, it aches. I promised I’d make it back, but I know that could be a lie. No one knows what will happen in this damn war.
And so, I sit and wait.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Oct
Bass Fishing In America
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
CONTEST WINNER:
The bass must talk to each other.
“Hey, I’m not going to chase those chartreuse spinners today. Are you guys with me?”
It’s amazing that creatures with brains the size of a split pea can outsmart other creatures that are supposedly the pinnacle of creation, or happenstance. Anglers driving hundred-thousand-dollar boats equipped with underwater cameras, sonar, and drones occasionally get skunked.
“Let’s follow those surface poppers right up to the boat, then suddenly dart into that network of rocky crevices.”
“Okay.”
Stealth trolling technology, GPS markers, anise-scented lures.
I’m really not surprised that the war in Afghanistan didn’t go better.
From Guest Contributor Mark Thomas
Aug
Salvation
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I release the sewer grate and climb into the darkness, the stars my only light. I stay close to the alley in case German police scope the streets. My family is starving and out of the three of us, I’m the least weak to make the walk, even though I stumble from fatigue. We’re all in angst living in sewage, but we have no other option.
His figure is faint, but recognizable. He hands me the bag of potatoes and apologizes for not having enough, then kisses me passionately.
“Go now, my Sadie.”
Aron, my salvation in this wretched war.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Declaration Of War
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The noon sun was a blazing red ember in an ashen sky. It was all anyone could talk about. Even the dogs of the kingdom were going crazy, whining and running in circles and hypersalivating. Meanwhile, on the birthing table, the Red Queen, her knees up, her legs spread apart, her multiple chins trembling, pushed and pushed and then pushed again. Music – Wagner or perhaps Sousa, something rousing – came thundering out of her. She was like a little brass ensemble playing mightily. The royal physician remained strangely calm, as though thinking, “OK, why not?” Blood had never looked so red.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of more than a dozen poetry collections, including most recently Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).