Posts Tagged ‘Window’

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

20
Dec

The Tiny Box

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Rosa watched the Christmas lights flickering on the house across the street. Green, red, blue and white, gleaming through her window. She took a sip of tea and let the warmth settle in her stomach.

Under the Christmas tree sat a tiny box from Steve, neatly wrapped in gold paper and a red bow.

A year had passed since Steve’s death and Rosa wouldn’t open the box without him.

Deep inside she knew what would be in the box, but truly knowing would break her heart.

Every year Rosa continued putting the box under the tree and never opened it.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

26
Oct

Don’t Fear The Reaper

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Jack wanders into the local for a pint at the end of his evening walk.

“Damn!”

He’d forgotten it was that time of the year.

There’s fat Marge dressed as a witch, and in walks Brad, the estate agent, now a skeleton.

Jack orders lemonade and watches the party grow louder. The pub band, three ghosts and a ghoul, rock them into a frenzy.

Unable to bear the drunken hysteria anymore, he walks out, sober, into the chill of the night.

He glances back through the pub window at the carnival of fools, none of whom will escape the Reaper.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

19
Oct

Happy Halloween

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

I’m driving home from Lori’s Halloween party when the car engine dies. It’s after midnight, the road is desolate, and I’m tired. I reach into my purse for the cell phone, but it’s not there.

Leaning back in my seat, taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. A knock on the window startles me.

“Miss, are you okay?”

It’s a man dressed as Count Dracula, his fangs scarily realistic.

“My engine died.”

“Let me look at it for you.”

As soon as I exit my car, Count Dracula grabs my purse and drives off in his truck.

Happy Halloween.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

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.

11
Sep

Never Forget

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

It was a warm sunny day on September 11, 2001. Lori remembered the towers imploding, the sadness and knot in her chest from the horror. She never forgot the sight of human bodies dropping to the ground as she watched from the window with watery eyes and shaking hands. She paced the floor as her other colleagues stayed silently glued to the window. The only words were those on the phone for panicked loved ones.

Sixteen years later, on a warm sunny day, the names of the victims are televised and read by grieving family members.

Lori will never forget.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

5
Sep

Lure Of The Surf

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Chatter heightened in a resort restaurant.

“She’s a striking beauty,” someone blurted. “Out surfing every day,”
another added. “Can’t miss.”

Ken placed lunch servings before the patrons, imagining running into
someone like that.

When work ended, he headed for the beach. Between relationships,
feeling low, he sought peace by the sea. Surfers dotted distant
sparkling waters. Their faces couldn’t be distinguished.

Next day, Ken served the same group of diners who had talked so
passionately about the mystery woman.

“She’s walking ashore holding a surfboard,” someone shouted.

Everyone, including Ken, turned to look out the window.

It was his sister.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

26
Jun

A Fool For Love

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Timothy stepped out into the cold evening air and briskly walked to the flower shop to buy a dozen red roses to propose to his girlfriend Isabelle. He had the ring in his inside coat pocket and his proposal branded in his memory.

Timothy pulled out his wallet. “A dozen red roses, please.”

“Big night, sir,” the cashier asked.

“I’m proposing to my girlfriend,” Timothy answered while fumbling for change.

“Good luck, to you.”

“Thanks.”

When Timothy arrived, stunned from what he saw through the living room window, he dropped the roses. Isabelle and his brother Tony were passionately kissing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

22
Jun

Trepidation

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Landslide. Highway closed. Closest motel, five miles back.

The adjoining restaurant was packed. I sat at a table with a couple
and their three high-spirited children. Rain fogged our window.
Someone outdoors fleeted past us.

“Creek flooded road to my cabin,” an elderly gent spoke as we both
exited. “Why are you here?”

I wiped my eyeglasses pretending not to hear. “Can you please walk me
to my room.”

He laughed. “Why, you scared?”

“I saw a prowler earlier.”

He obliged.

Next day’s news revealed that a bear had to be tranquilized on the
grounds, taken back into the woods.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. 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.

16
May

Summer Days

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Joseph peered out his bedroom window, the summer sun beating on his old tired face. At ninety-five, he didn’t care. He enjoyed watching the children play hopscotch, giggling and waiting for the bells of the ice cream truck. Every time, the girls would drop their chalk and run to the sound. In the background birds flew from tree to tree. Joseph remembered those summer days as if it were yesterday.

“Time for your medication, Joseph,” said the home care nurse.

Joseph turned in his wheelchair and took his medication. He knew any day he’d never see those children play again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher