Posts Tagged ‘Years’
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
Feb
Embers
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He thinks he sees her again and he’s mesmerized by her perfection.
He watches her and remembers his perfect past; remembers what it was like for him all those many years ago when, returning home, he’d find the perfect woman there, smiling, standing beside the fireplace, close to the fire, waiting. He can’t always recall her name, but he remembers the fire and her smile; the perfectly soft glow, the welcoming warmth.
These are the benedictions of age, he thinks. Even when the fire burns low, there is memory and imagination; even in an empty room I am never alone.
From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette
Find Ron. Lavalette’s work at: EGGS OVER TOKYO
Aug
Daddy’s Little Girl
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
His little girl called and said that she was getting married.
When he first held her she weighed about as much as two large apples. He was told it could be only hours so say goodbye.
Hours turned into days and then years.
His wife never wanted to try again so his little girl would be the only one that went to see the Yankees with him and share the dogs, the overloaded nachos, the wings, sundaes, and when she was old enough, the brewskis.
“How do I look, Daddy?” The gown was perfect for her 400 pounds.
“Beautiful, Baby.”
From Guest Contributor E. Barnes
Jan
She’s Done Crying
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She wasn’t crying today. First day in years. All dolled up with makeup and wearing her fanciest dress, she was going somewhere. And she looked good, so good, that even her children smiled a little. Friends had been expecting this, and some stopped to see her. Daniel wasn’t there. He never was. His love for her was long gone. After being gone for fifteen years, even the kids didn’t care about him anymore.
It was time. A loud thump signaled the end. The latches sealed and locked the casket closed. The finality of it was unmistakable. She was done crying.
From Guest Contributor NT Franklin
May
Chivalry
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“How many years do you think we’ve known each other?” Zoey asked.
“I dunno, at least since pre-school. We’re both thirty now,” I replied. We walked the cobbled roads of Newburyport. The clouds looked like lines of poetry.
“You go first this time,” Zoey said.
“I like holding the door for you though.”
“Damn it, Tyreke. Why do you always hold the door, and hold the umbrella, and make me coffee? Women can do things you know.”
“I know that.”
“Do you feel you have to protect me, or be a man, or–––“
“I do them because I love you.”
From Guest Contributor Steve Colori
Apr
Dream Beach
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He walked along the beach he’d frequented as a child in holidays long ago.
“All those years,” he thought, “and my life has had as much significance as a grain of sand on this shore!”
“Even my memories are fading,” he reflected, as the past receded ever further year on year.
“My senses too are dulled. The sights and sounds of the sea are not as vivid as before.”
Hearing the mesmerizing cadence of the waves he felt he was walking in a dream.
Yes, it would soon be time for his return to the dust from whence he came.
From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher
Nov
The War Of Walls 2
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One Hundred years in the future a time machine is built to enlist war troops. After the resistance, America was angry as the resistance killed. The Americans hijacked a plane, so the English grabbed an attack plane. The American General said, ‘We can’t shoot it down!’ His Major had an idea.
The Major said, ‘Go above the plane and drop soldiers on it!’ The General said to the Major, ‘You are right.’ As the hijacked plane flew he pushed the Major onto the attack plane. The Major’s team took out all of the enemy and both war planes landed safely.
From Guest Contributor Bayley Kelly
Nov
The War Of Walls
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
One hundred years in the future a time machine is built. Scientists send the machine back to get Native Americans, cowboys and dragons.
The English side with the Native Americans and the Americans with the cowboys. The English build a wall. Using jeeps, tanks, and planes they fight for six years. The cowboys break the wall, but lose the war.
After the war a resistance forms and is sent to New York to disable the tanks controlling the security building which houses the president. Some get away, some are killed.
The President’s last personal, best fighter is promoted to General.
From Guest Contributor Bayley Kelly
Mar
Relationships
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
I was about to toss you out. End our years of coexistence.
Reminiscing helped me see you in a new light. Made me realize how good
you’ve been to me.
Through difficult as well as good times you were there for me. Your
goal to please was simple. You aimed to brighten my dark evenings and
make me feel safe at night when I couldn’t sleep.
I’m thankful for your enduring warmth. For without you, I wouldn’t
have been able to orientate myself in these surroundings. Nor read my
favorite books.
Lamp I’ve owned for countless years, we belong together.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has
been 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.
Oct
Arm In Arm
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Her spindly hand with purple veins protruding forms a tight grasp around the rigid arm. She had a history with this arm, often leaning against it to maintain her balance. It had been a steady companion over the last several years, which was more than she could say about her children. They never approved of their mother’s new company. A cigarette always hung from her overly wrinkled lips when the two were together, and the last thing she needed was another vice. It’s their loss, she shrugged and gave a tug on that trusty metal arm, waiting for three sevens.
From Guest Contributor Nicholas Froumis
Nicholas practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared in Gravel, Right Hand Pointing, Dime Show Review, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Ground Fresh Thursday, Balloons Lit Journal, and Short Tale 100. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.