Tag: short story

Bricked

From the window of the station Tony could just make out the outline of South America. With a nearby ding he remembered where he was standing, grabbed two coffees from the vending machine and turned around to see Lynn waving him over to talk with one of the doctors. He quickly crossed the waiting room toward his haggard wife and the well-kept Dr. Zionkowski.

As he bridged the distance, his wife motioned to the doctor. “She says she has news.”

Tony handed one of the coffees to Lynn, who just held the warm cup. He said, “How is she?”

Dr. Zionkowski lifted up the tablet to double-check her charts and then sighed deeply. “I wish I could give you better news, be more gentle. But it’s not looking good.”

Lynn mumbled, “Oh no.”

Dr. Zionkowski continued, “She…she isn’t responsive, not to sound, not to light or vibration. I fear you have only a few hours to make a decision.”

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Step Mother’s Note

Dearest daughter,

I know when you went to sleep you still didn’t consider me your mother, but I hope you know that I always considered you part of my family.  By the time you read this, you will have woken up from your rest. I hope that you are feeling better. I know things haven’t been easy, and I hope when you wake things will finally be easier, fairer.

I know that this situation has taken a deep toll on you. It’s taken a toll on me as well, but I don’t mean to make this about me. 

What I am trying to say is, I hope that by the time you wake you can find it within your heart to forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to do this, but… I hope you can at least understand why, even if you can’t forgive me.

(more…)

The Gentleman’s Lie: Part 1

The Duchess’s consort was well looked after. After all, people would not look upon her favorably if she lived in wealth while her husband lived in squalor. His apartment, directly attached to the Duchess’s, included its own kitchen, lavatory, study, and smoking room. They were all, of course, smaller than the Duchess’s, as it also would look a bit unseemly if her consort were to have living conditions that matched or even exceeded hers. 

The consort’s bedroom was, however, the same size as hers. This was a gift to him, and one she could easily give, as, hopefully, no one of importance would happen upon it and discover her indiscretion. When he asked why, she simply said, “You make me laugh.” and left it at that. The room was lavish. There was a large oak dresser, imported from the north; expensive jewelry, imported from the west; placed in an ornate ivory jewelry box, imported from the south; and a four post cherry wood bed with silk sheets, all imported from the east.

Underneath those sheets, the consort, Duke Theodore Mercier, felt a tickle as the ties of his lover’s mask brushed against his neck. With him was Gabriel Chastain, of the Chastain family of merchants, the wealthiest family of commoners in the area. And Gabe had one goal, to caress every inch of Theodore’s body with his lips, starting from the top. This was a time-intensive task, but he was a man who stuck by his word. And so, as he gripped Theo’s shoulders and pulled him close, as he straddled Theo, one leg on either side of his hips, Gabe brushed his lips gently down the side of his neck.

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The Truth: Part 1

Trouble always seems to find me if it wants to go looking. It makes sense; my office can be reached from almost every corner of the world. See, all you really need is the right ingredients and the right incantations when walking into any investigator’s office. By the time the incense has finished burning, you’ll be right across the desk from me. 

See, every one of us had an aspect, a calling, something that defined us in the abstract. I was truth, and by extension I was the one the others went to when they needed to know the truth. It doesn’t mean I was always honest though. I was just simply inclined to find the truth, not tell it.

There were millions of us, I think. It was hard to keep track of at the time. You got to know those who worked around you, but that doesn’t mean that you knew anyone beyond your network. To be honest, I hadn’t seen my immediate network in a couple months. Most of them were of similar aspects, like “lying,” “honesty,” “knowledge,” and even “communication,” so they didn’t need my help as often as others.

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Mother May I

Molly entered the kitchen to see Michael already awake and cooking breakfast. “You’re late! Mother will be home soon.” He paused and changed his tone to something more pleading. “Please help.”

“I was still asleep.”

“I would love to sleep in too!” said Michael, losing the softer tone he had before. 

Molly’s eyes flickered to the patches on his skin and quickly walked into the room to help him. “What do you need from me?”

“Could you see if the milk is still good?”

Molly ran to the fridge and opened it. The hinges groaned open and a sweet smell filled the room. “I hate this thing.”

“She tried her best, now hurry up and help.” Michael continued to chop up a carrot, shaking the entire time.

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