Posts Tagged ‘Wife’

5
May

Sirens

by thegooddoctor in Uncategorized

He’d risen early this morning to plan the house his wife had dreamed of, but the hilltop’s stark beauty had rooted him to the spot.

His tea got cold.

It suddenly seemed a travesty to spoil the land’s personality.

Don’t seek to dominate, Mother Nature whispered, explore me as you would a lover.

He felt his pulse race at the imagery. There were enticing little copses in his eye line.
He wondered if Elaine was up for–

“GRAHAM!” Her voice scattered the erotic thoughts.

He sighed and slouched towards the mobile home.

“Coming.”

He reflected on the nature of sirens.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

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

8
Jan

New Year’s Resolutions

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

New Year’s Eve, a time to reflect on the past year, and Charles did just that. In the upcoming year he would eat healthy, and spend more time with his granddaughter. Julia with her dimpled cheeks would be a young woman soon and he didn’t want to miss another minute.

Times Square was filled with people, dressed in big coats and hats braving the cold. The countdown began, and the glittering ball started to drop.

“Happy New Year, Elise,” he said.

He drank his champagne and placed it next to his wife Elise’s photo, her glass full and bubbling untouched.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

21
Dec

Wife’s Helper

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

John flipped his wife’s shopping list and reached for the phone in his jacket. No charge.

He caught a nearby shopper.

“Excuse me, what are these,” he pointed to the list.

“Try the seafood counter,” was the reply.

Once there, John asked, “Do you have scal…?”

“Scallops?” the server interjected. “Half a pound? They’re pricey.”

John placed the package into his basket. “Where do I find this,” he showed the same man.

“Rubber scrapers in kitchen gadgets.”

“Thank you.”

When John arrived home, his wife unpacked the bags.

“I’m allergic to shellfish!” she shrilled. “Where are the scallions
and capers?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

15
Dec

Last-Minute Shoppers

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

“Wrapping paper! Ha, ha!”

Shoppers passed by clutching rolls of it.

“Fancy spending Christmas Eve wrapping presents!” Ian thought, reflecting on how he’d finished his yesterday.

“My God, they’re fighting over chocolates,” he sneered, observing a couple of housewives tugging the ends of a Milk Tray box in Howell’s Department Store.

He resolved to have a latte in Starbucks to fully savour the spectacle before the shops finally closed.

“Chocolates?!…Christ, I forgot the wife’s chocolates!”

Ian rushed out of the café.

“Where the hell can I find some now?” he thought, seeing the doors of Howell’s snap shut.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

5
Dec

Secretly Thankful

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The story I’m told, is my cousin ran a red light, hit an oncoming car and died on impact. This happened the day before Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving Day, my aunt and uncle are preparing for his funeral.

I told my cousin Mike, time and again, he needed to stop fiddling with the radio when driving, because he could cause an accident or kill someone. I never thought that someone would be him.

The turkey sits in the refrigerator, no one wanting to celebrate thanks when a young man died.

Secretly, I’m thankful it isn’t my wife or one of my kids.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

18
Nov

Nothing To Lose

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Tim pressed his foot to the accelerator.

“Hey, moron, you’re all over the road,” yelled the man in the next lane.

Tim screamed and threw his beer bottle at the car. He lost his job, his wife and just found out he had terminal cancer. He continued swerving, cars honking, until his eyes blurred and his head ached. Inebriated and driving recklessly, he crashed into a tree.

“Oh My God!” yelled a jogger passing on the dirt path. “Are you okay?”

Tim moaned before answering.

“I’ll never be okay again.” He backed up and drove away, leaving the woman dumbfounded.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

16
Nov

Perfectionist

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

After his mother, it was his wife’s turn to chide him for his lethargy. Only a few of his good friends knew him to be a perfectionist. ‘You take a year to complete a chore’ was the common refrain muttered by his wife. His sweet talk on any given day always ended in a tiff. His wife, who envied the life of a butterfly, was fed up with him.

Unfortunately, he died suddenly of a heart attack.

A year later, in a drunken brawl, certain words slipped from two men, which led to the arrest of his wife for murder.

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore

18
Oct

Candlelight Song

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

The first night we moved into our new home, we heard singing from the house next door. I went to the window and saw a woman singing on the second floor. She held a single candle in her hand.

As the weeks passed, we heard the singing every night, the same song, the same window, the same candlelight. I might have imagined it, but the singing seemed to be becoming louder.

Now, each night, I sit at my window and sing that song, a single candle my only source of light. I have not seen my wife in many years.

13
Oct

Rose Petal

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It took Jim more than a half hour to arrive at his wife Kate’s grave. The flowers he brought were withered from the heat and drops of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

“Hi, Sweetie. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic was unbearable. I brought you your favorite, yellow roses, but they are ruined from the heat. I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get anything right these days.”

Jim placed the roses against the gravestone, knelt, and quietly prayed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

When Jim left, a rose petal dropped to the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher