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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a story that takes place in a waiting room.

Posted in Thriller and Suspense on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 256 stories

“Keeping Time” by May Hodgson

Submitted to Contest #49

She waited. Hung on to each second as the clock ticked and tocked. Her heart beat along with it. But the time didn’t make a difference. Fidgeting against the vinyl of the red plastic chair, it squeaked. the tick-tock stopped. She knew they were looking at her. The man next to her wanted to know if she was crying too or if this was the best moment of her life. A soon to be sister or orphan. Whipping away the salt from her eyes with the back of her sleeve, the clock began ticking again and the wondering looks had drawn their conclusions. They ...

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“community mental health team clinic waiting room” by Penelope Flowers

Submitted to Contest #49

anxious, i’m early.also waiting to see shrinkacquaintance not friendwe exchange greetings.we were in a support groupyears ago. she. meshe and i fell outover religion and truth.civil only sinceunhesitant sheleans towards me and whispers,“remember barry?”i remember him.we were close once years agowhen life was awfulwhen marriage crumbledwhen my bipolar illnesswent wild, unstablewhen i joined the groupwhere i met her and barrywhere i shared my painmy deep dark secretssimilar to their secretsempathy at last!scared of rejectionmeeting only empath...

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“Saturn's Curse” by Sofia Keefe

Submitted to Contest #49

I am watching the clock. No, it is watching me. It is ever changing while I sit still. It seems to me a strange thought once one knows the true meaning of time.  A clock measures the succession of events, but what is there to measure as I sit here? The time it takes for a bead of sweat to roll down my neck? Or what about the growth of my hair? Nothing changes besides the slight movement of air, the rustling of my skirt, and the eternal beating of the clock. My name is Yaga, deemed the Queen of Deception and Alienation. I was punished...

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“Waiting Room” by Eleanor McLoughlin

Submitted to Contest #49

I had expected it to be unexpectedly ordinary. But it’s not. It has curtains, which are dark red velvet. It even has candles, on the floor perched on empty chairs, which is dangerous. I’m surprised she’d put real ones there. The chairs are velvet-cushioned in red as well. Their legs are made of brass-coloured plastic, which looks a bit cheapy, but if you forget about that it’s like one of those witch images my daughter would search online. The candles are white. One of them has dripped wax right onto its chair. That’ll take scrubbing to get ...

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“The Model Clinic” by Veena Parmar

Submitted to Contest #49

It’s going to be a long wait, thought the receptionist, looking at the waiting room full of people. Only Doctor Ahmet was in this morning, and after the first patient who’d just gone into the consultation room, it was difficult to say how long he would be. The doctor was already running late, so these poor people were in for a heck of a wait. They were hardly poor, really. More money than sense. That’s what Isabelle said whenever people asked her about the patients at the clinic. Well, they weren’t exactly patients. It wasn’t a typical ...

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“6:18 to RONKONKOMA” by Gerard Watson

Submitted to Contest #49

George Thomas sat in the Long Island Rail Road New York Penn Station waiting room feeling vacant, spent, and emotionally exhausted.  He’d come to the compulsory retirement age for his work. Although he knew this time was coming,  it still took him by surprise. Work became his reason for living after God called his wife, Mary, home five years ago. There was nobody to live for now. Every day for the past thirty years, he waited for the 6:18 to Ronkonkoma to take him home to Mary. Today, he’d jump in front of 6:18 and go hom...

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“Interstice” by Amy Wang

Submitted to Contest #49

At first glance, the Commission’s waiting room looked similar to the lobby of every hospital that Emil had ever visited. Its design was clean and minimalist, with seats arranged around the walls and a wide reception desk opposite the front door. The only difference was that a heavy, see-through barrier completely encircled the top of the desk, with rectangular openings near the bottom that seemed secured, from the inside, by a series of complicated-looking latches. Busy with keyboards and touchpads, the people behind it barely looked up...

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“Hattie Beresford's Appointment” by Helen Aherne

Submitted to Contest #49

Hattie Beresford’s Appointment The waiting room was full. People coughed, sniffed and one man could be heard drawing mucus up from labouring lungs, before depositing his cache into a grimy, discoloured handkerchief. He had the grace to look around apologetically, as he did so.            Across the aisle Hattie sighed, hoping her appointment with Doctor Scanlan would be called soon. She’d fought hard to get it, the next one available being in three weeks time – imagine!&...

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“Nannas Black Bag” by Sheila Roach

Submitted to Contest #49

Nanna and I were waiting for an appointment. I was restless and swung my legs and wriggled about "Nanna, please can I look in your handbag ", I ask. My five-year-old self, full of curiosity. She smiled and laughingly said, " Yes you may ". I opened the bag that I had been wondering about . I mean what could be in it? Its quite big and nan always had it with her. I could hardly contain my excitement. I found a little green bottle with what looked like crystals inside. "What's this then Nan ?", I ask. "That ", she replied, " are my smelling ...

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“The Monsters and The Man” by S U

Submitted to Contest #49

“So, what are you here for?”The lady looks up from her magazine towards the source of the voice. “Oh, me? I am just here with my Aunt.” She smiles at the man, closing her magazine; sensing a conversation.“For which doctor?” The man closes his own reading prop, the daily newspaper.“Dr Rita, I have heard how accomplished she is in her career and how good she is with her patients. She, if I heard correctly, has won many awards in psychiatry.”“Waiting for your turn is so bloody annoying, isn’t it?” the man says as his eyes glances at the closed ...

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“Is This It?” by Pasupu .

Submitted to Contest #49

As I entered the main office, the flickering tube-lights failed to ignite my anxiety. I don’t remember the last time I had an episode of anxiety, I probably got used to it. I remember the sight of my face when I stared into my faded mirror in the morning. I don’t know even know how long and for how many days I’ve been nearly awake. My face had probably shrunken, I had managed to roughly shave off my stubble, but the razor cuts were clearly visible. I have gotten used to looking at my eyes red almost all the time. My hair had become matted,...

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“Skinning Shed Smell” by G Wingard

Submitted to Contest #49

Smell is the strongest sense. The olfactory bulb sits right on the brain and scents trigger emotions, thoughts, memories, and associations that our conscious mind barely registers. Science still isn’t sure how the chemicals we inhale cross the neurological barrier to the brain, but the effect is profound. Profoundly disturbing in this case. All I could smell was death.            I’d grown up around that smell. The musky, pissy aroma of animal pelts and the sweet, rotting smell of offal....

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“Freedom Train” by Mercy Duke

Submitted to Contest #49

A thick blanket of dark clouds covered the sky, large droplets of water started to hit the ground forming small cups on the ground. I made a small prayer that the rain god stopped the rain a bit so I can get my ticket first. I followed the slow moving queue with large raindrops hitting my body, I didn't have an umbrella, when I left home it was hot and sunny, I never expected any rain. I finally got to the ticket office, the wait was like eternity. “Harambe, Freedom Train”, that’s all I said and the lady in the office tossed a pink ticket ...

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“Talk Shows” by Blisters Wournos

Submitted to Contest #49

Sick-yellow hospital walls and the smell of sterility. The waiting room to be evaluated before being moved to the mental ward is twice my body head-to-toe in one direction, three times in the other.  I watch a talk show where they spin a wheel to decide which man to paternity test.  I watch a talk show where a man spent all his wedding money on strippers.  I watch a reality show where a mother tells her daughter that she doesn’t love her.I am not allowed to have my crayons yet, or my coloring book. The...

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“A Place like This” by Dan McKeon

Submitted to Contest #49

I try not to tinker with it, but my finger is almost magnetically drawn there. I pull my hand away and just stare. The cumulous puff of white teases me. I can nearly hear it screaming my name. I want to resist, but my index finger reaches beyond my conscious thought and begins to stroke the stray batting poking through the cracked vinyl of the armrest. The chair that supports my slumping weight is a gray, powder-coated aluminum and I can feel its bitter chill press against the calf of my leg through a hole in my jeans. The armrests are cover...

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Contest #49

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