Posts Tagged ‘Words’
Sep
It’s Not Me, It’s You
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
You hear the thin cries of a drowning man. You notice that seemingly innocent words like “today,” “yesterday,” and “tomorrow” have been censored. You pick quarrels with the baggers at grocery stores. You try but fail to ignore the prevalence of right-wing militias, foreign movies dubbed in English, shark sightings. You prefer baseball to football and a medically induced coma to either. You wonder what it’d be like to suffer a gunshot. You have a recurrent dream you’re lost in an old abandoned warehouse, usually with a friend you had growing up whose brother played Russian roulette once too often.
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie is the author of THE DEATH ROW SHUFFLE, a poetry collection forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.
Aug
Equals
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Hurry up with those bricks!” the manager screamed.
The workers glared at him but moved faster, wheeling bricks to the concrete slab.
Looking at his watch, the manager scowled. “This building isn’t going to make itself. If you work harder, maybe one day you’ll be my equal.”
The group of men laughed and shook their heads. They spoke in their native tongue, their words meaningless to the manager.
“What are you saying? Speak English!”
They looked at him with contempt, and a man stepped forward before answering, “Learn our language and find out, then maybe someday you’ll be our equal.”
From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer
Jul
Decision
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The witch stared into the candlelight. The darkness and tempest outside would strengthen her spell, To Make Him Love You More. He wasn’t home yet, now was her chance to cast it.
The thunderbolt’s light lit up the room, and a sparkle under the bed caught her eye. Squinting, she focused on it. A shattered mirror.
“Next time, it’ll be your head.”
Her eyes widened as his harsh words echoed in her ears, and her hand froze mid-air. Without thinking, she flipped to the following page of her open spell book, To Mend Your Broken Heart.
Decided, the witch chanted.
From Guest Contributor Soleah Kenna Sadge
Soleah is a fantasy writer. You can learn more about her and her writings by visiting https://linktr.ee/sksadge
Jul
The Lie
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It is too easy to start a lie.
I tried for a solid year to start a regular exercise routine, but it just didn’t take.
I promised myself eighteen months ago that I would only drink three days per week, but that never came to fruition. My current goal is to make a bottle of wine last three days.
Lying, on the other hand, was easy. I didn’t have to think about it. The words just spilled right out. It wasn’t conscious. I didn’t even have to journal about it or set a goal for myself. I just did it.
From Guest Contributor Amy Bracco
Jul
Learning To Read
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I lean into my chair holding the book by its bind, learning to read what I did not as a child, but now with gray in my stubble. Flipping through the pages, feeling the paper crease between my fingers, I fumble to link it all together.
I follow the words with a methodical dexterity of a trained scientist, and with repetition, I begin to sense the fruits of my labor, basking in the glow of my mother’s maiden language come alive.
The exercise ends with a whistle, as I close my cookbook and taste the pepperpot burn my overeager tongue.
From Guest Contributor Eric Persaud
Eric is an Indo-Guyanese American living in New York City. He is currently working on his doctoral dissertation in Public Health and writing stuff in his free time.
Jul
Troubles
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Covid-19 has taken a toll on my social life. The quarantine has me cooped up other than grocery shopping or a drive, and I miss the sounds of my friends boisterous laughs when we joke about men while watching romance movies chomping on popcorn.
Reading a novel with my feet up, the same words stare at me. I toss the book aside and pace, when a tapping on the back door distracts my thoughts. I look outside and a black kitten is on the patio meowing.
I forget all my troubles when I step outside and pet this adorable animal.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jun
Flying Dancers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She dances with the leaves on this late autumn night. They rise, fall, crackle, swoop back into the air, without reflection about their falls. No signs of injury. No self-pity.
She envies the leaves. They can fly from words.
Too artistic, dark, can’t you be happy? Go to this party. Go to that party with your father. Stand straight, watch your gait. Smile. Writing’s a waste of time.
The words float in her mind like sickly alphabet cereal. But another curtain of leaves showers her. She twirls, the leaves dancing with her, sky and street opening wider than ever before.
From Guest Contributor Yash Seyedbagheri
Yash is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, and Ariel Chart, among others.
Jun
Mother Nature Always Wins
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
When you push the envelope, sometimes the envelope pushes back.
The architects and the engineers were certain that their calculations were correct. The bridge would save time and effort when driving across the sound. The financing was in place after years of wrangling. The bridge was inaugurated with great fanfare.
The Williwaw was the locals’ name for the wind that came from the north. High winds were not unusual, and the designers of the bridge had accounted for them. Mother Nature didn’t know the words “vortex shedding” or “aeroelastic flutter.” But she didn’t need words, she just needed the wind.
From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius
Jun
Except In Pictures
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
NATURE SUBMISSION:
His mother always said you solved more problems with words than with fists. But his was not a peaceful nature, and after years of unanswered abuses, he was unwilling to sit by and do nothing.
The bomb exploded on the night of May 1st, 1997. One person was killed, another injured. Both security guards.
His lawyer would argue that the deaths were tragic accidents, that he’d thought the building would be empty. The truth was he hadn’t cared.
Now he’s in jail, no chance for parole. Nature is still being destroyed, and he hasn’t seen a tree in many years.
From Guest Contributor Samantha Dryden
Apr
The Witness
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
HISTORICAL FICTION ENTRY:
Her footman stood in the midst of the crowd on the grounds of the White Tower. He could see the scaffolding, the glistening executioner’s sword, and the block where his lady would place her head. Then, Lady Anne climbed onto the scaffolding.
Holding back his tears, the footman listened to the Queen’s prayerful last words. He watched as the attendants removed her mantle of ermine and blindfolded her. She knelt down.
With one swift stroke, the French swordsman ended the life of Queen Anne.
The footman turned to his friend and cried, “If only she had given him a son.”
From Guest Contributor Deborah Shrimplin