Write about a character who gets good and bad news in quick succession — not necessarily in that order.
Posted in Angst on Oct 31, 2022
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✍️ 47 stories
“In Sickness” by Lauren B
Content warning: profanity and terminal illness. I was really hoping that my wife would die. Not at first. When she was first diagnosed, I just wanted a speedy recovery. Then I could continue with my plan to leave her. Like the cancer in Debbie’s breast, these feelings had been eating away at me for years. Twenty-one years into our marriage, Debbie had grown old, obviously...
“A Fading Touch” by Gregory Wright
Under the nurse’s guidance, Marty walked into the cold exam room and shuffled over to the examining table. Awkwardly pulling up on the legs of his jeans to get comfortable, he pulled out his shirt tails to give him more room, his feet dangling in the air like a school boy’s. He sat quietly with his hands folded in his lap while the nurse, after reassuring him the doctor would be in soon, closed the door, leaving him the...
“A Cookie for You” by Rhonda Allen
For the past 5 years, I have lived in a cul de sac with wonderful neighbours. Everyone is so friendly, we often get together for BBQs, holidays or just coffee on the porch. Two weeks ago, I sent out invitations to everyone in the cul de sac for a cookie exchange and tonight was the night. I had received the RSVPs back, and it looked like everyone was going to come. My excitement about this e...
“It's All Good” by J L Jones
As a young mother, there were days when I couldn’t wait for my girls to grow up. I couldn’t wait for cries to become words. For diapers to become underpants. For their constant dependence on me to become self-sufficiency. Funny that as time passes and all those things come to fruition, all a mother wants is to go back to the days when those trying early years are the only ones in front of us. My girls, El...
“Appearances of Bad and Good” by Debra Koffski
I hate when you’re almost asleep, your phone is plugged up away from your body, and then it rings. You think to yourself, do I really want to turn over, after I just got comfortable, to answer my phone at 11 o’clock at night. It’s probably a wrong number. But then you think, maybe it’s a friend who needs you, or your mom. By the time you think all these thoughts you’re wide awake, and you turn over to answer, and they ha...
“AH, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED” by Mara Masolini
AH, YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! He entered the bar out of breath, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his T-shirt rolled up on his stomach, half uncovered. He squinted, he was not in his own ( he was not in himself) for the impatience to start telling us…oh, wonders. “ Ah, you don’t know, but sure, you can’t know! It happened a few minutes ago , as I was walking dow...
“THE SUMMONS” by R. J. Garron
The doors opened on a cold whim. No sound, no protest. Everything fell into the silent ambience of the alabaster lighting encapsulating every corner of the Civilian and Culture Building. The door slid shut behind without notice. In plain view was the conduct coordinator, a lump of a post-modern human more akin to a walking thumb, sitting at the circular desk in the middle of the room, a product of middle management handling the valuable contributions and disciplines of its emp...
“Mom, Do You Want to Hear the Bad or Good News First?” by Etya Krichmar
Mom, do you want the good or bad news first? At work, my cell phone rang. I picked up the receiver. It was my son, Jeff, a Ringling School of Arts and Design college student. He was about to complete the third year of his studies. "Hi, Mom. How are you?" "I am fine, and you?" "I have something to tell you. Do you want th...
“Tell Me” by Roxanne Abner
TW: manifestations of a mental health disorder and some description of physical violence You know what? I don’t know if I should tell you this or not. I, myself, am a bit distressed at the moment. Therefore, I could use a clear mind, a reasonable mind, a partial mind to judge the whole situation. Yes, what you see is correct, this is the corpse of Mother. Yes, I was the one who killed her, you can see the...
“from Jessica:” by Kenn Rho
(TW: mentions of sexual violence, gun violence, and bullying) Betty sat, criss-cross applesauce, underneath the bleachers in the gym. She set down her lunch tray in front of her, taking occasional bites of today’s meal: biscuits and gravy. She thought that this was more of a breakfast food; then again, she also thought that Jared would be here by now. Disappointments happen all the time, she figured....
“Guess What” by Pinny Bugaeff
“Guess What?” You know the sound a shopping cart makes when one of its wheels is wonky? Wockata, wockata, wockata. Last year, my hoarder mother snagged one of those things from behind Walmart. Tiny as she was, she trundled that thing around like a ferret chasing a chicken. Our stinking house, next to the tired strip mall, was bulging with...
“First, The Good News” by Gary Wells
Peter Dillon sat in the parlor of the swank offices of Blum, Rottenkirk and Slacke. He was anxiously jostling his knees up and down. He felt underdressed, even though he had put together one of the best outfits he owned – a tan suede jacket with dark brown elbow patches, a clean blue-and-brown plaid shirt, a pair of relaxed-fit jeans he had purchased a few days ago. His brown loafers were kind of old, but not ratty or anything.He wished that he had shaved. The young women he met at bars and social functions tended to like his scruf...
“Letting Go” by Andrea Shaw
No birthday should be spent in a hospital. Instead of a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday”, we are serenaded by a symphony of machines. Each beep is the sound of my son’s heart beat-rhythmic and strong. We tried to celebrate as normal; decorating his room with colorful balloons, streamers, and even a party hat with a pom pom on top. Anything to keep our minds from the fear that plagued us since our arrival. De...
“Last Flight” by Janet Change Balda
Content warning: mental health; substance abuse; physical violence, gore, abuse; suicide, self harm. Maria was having a nice, quiet morning when she heard the car in the driveway. She had been enjoying the way the early sunlight filtered in through the eyelet lace curtains. Even upstairs, she always kept the windows covered so that no one could see in. She put down her cup of tea and opened a sli...
“189 Downing Street, Little Windsor, Sutton.” by Ann Walker
This story contains sensitive content including mild language, violence, and abuse. July 18, 1814Dearest Domonique, Being my most trusted and longest-lasting friend, I thought it necessary to document the events of the happenings here at the estate of Bancroft. Let not cloudiness or muddle headedness interfere with the truth of such events. I would find it unarguable that the “good news” is the easiest to divulge, given most circumstance...
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