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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

“Tragic Fragility” by Ellie K

Submitted to Contest #49

The dirt-streaked windows give the waiting room a dingy, run-down feel. For a room where so many people spend so much time, you would think there would be a bigger budget for upkeep. The overhead lights are dim and weak, so the majority of the light comes from the large windows that take up the south wall. The room itself is well furnished, but it lacks the pristine, sterile quality of the rest of the hospital. I wonder if the depressing nature of the room and the people in it contributes to the overall grimness of the space. Outside the win...

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“Just Another Day” by Eyona Choi

Submitted to Contest #49

A clock is ticking, somewhere. It’s one of those sounds that drills itself into your ears and makes you want to rip your fingernails off, one by one, just to have something to distract yourself from the agonizing pain of it. I hate this place. It’s the hideous tan-and-orange speckled walls, the depressingly cheerful framed quotes scattered around, the beige carpet with what appear to be blood stains hastily cleaned with bleach, the understuffed ‘sofa’ that’s harder than cement, and the far-off sound of a snotty little brat crying. The colou...

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“Wife's Appointment” by Craig Skinner

Submitted to Contest #49

I sat alone in the waiting room, staring blankly at the clock. 9:07. I had arrived at 8:59 sharp, in anticipation of my 9:00 appointment time. Early is on time, right? I guess the doctor didn’t get that memo. I say “doctor” as if I know that is who I am seeing; in fact, I had no clue why I was even here. My calendar had an appointment, created by my wife, to be at this office for an appointment at 8:00, so what did I do? I showed up. Why else would I be here? Like many offices these days, the building was a plain beige rectangle with no dist...

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“A Star is Born” by Arianne Grant

Submitted to Contest #49

The music was pumping, drinks were flowing. The smell of sweat and jello shots echoed throughout the house. I was dancing the night away and our dream to lose our virginities on this very night was about to come true. Oliver sidled up behind me and swayed to the trashy EDM with me. I glanced to my right and spotted my Mallory, chatting with her crush Lance. All they were doing was chatting and smiling, but we were supposed to be doing, other things. As I was watching over Mallory, I saw Dalton fighting with his on-again off-again girlfriend....

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“Killing Silence ” by Alyssa Childers

Submitted to Contest #49

       The walls are so white its almost blinding me, like snow on a quiet plain. The floors are too clean and there is a faint smell of bleach in the air that’s making my nose hairs stand on end. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here but the pain in my lower back is telling me it’s been too long. The people around me look just like me, sick, uncomfortable, and impatient. How long have they been sitting here, I think to myself, too afraid to speak in this eerily quiet room. I look up to the front des...

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“LOVE IS OLDER THAN MANKIND” by RADIUS HAVWAALA

Submitted to Contest #49

LOVE IS OLDER THAN MANKINDWalking lazily, bottled mineral water sparkling in his hand, MacKay hoisted his rumpled jacket as he entered the waiting room and headed straight for the counter to buy a train ticket to Monze. There he dropped his bag on the floor to take a long swig from the bottle before edging closer to address a brown diva wearing some green chiffon and a Man U red scarf around her neck.“May I buy a ticket, please?” he was now speaking softly because his eyes started feasting on the diva’s beauty which was far more refreshing t...

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“Never judge a book by its cover ” by Beth Lawrence

Submitted to Contest #49

She couldn’t quite believe her eyes. He matched the description - blue jeans, yellow and red tartan shirt, weather-beaten brown Timberland boots and a chequered blue cap. It had to be him. The only other person in the waiting room was a young mother, looking weary and vexed by her over-enthusiastic and boisterous twin boys causing havoc with their toy cars and planes. The scene evokes a feeling of nostalgia for her. She would play with her cousin as a young child, and would often be forced to play his choice of amusement rather than hers. He...

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“It's Always Been You” by Kristine Murdock

Submitted to Contest #49

And it came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time.  This seems so true now. I used to listen to that song, with you. My eyes would water and you’d call me cute. You’d concentrate on the road and I’d squeeze your hand. That’s when I’d hear your voice telling me again what I know so well: that you love me.  But now that I’m living it, my only thought when I listen to that melody will be of you.  As I stared at my shoes in the ICU that reeked of piss and 409 The smell of Death. I shut my eyes and ru...

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“Never Being Watched” by A. A. Blake

Submitted to Contest #49

Once again, Chaviva stared at the chair. It sat casually in the corner of the waiting room next to the admin’s window. Its unassuming pink cushion blushed coyly, surrounded by the mahogany-stained wood’s embrace. That chair. That damn chair. That’s what started this suicidal swing. Chavi chewed her lip. No, maybe it wasn’t the chair. This fucking waiting room, colder than a psychiatrist’s analysis, where she was always alone – the fucking boredom had driven her to it. The magazines, with their wounded covers where thoughtless admins and PA...

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“As She Sleeps On” by Chris Riffle

Submitted to Contest #49

Tonight, I hate that screeching noise the bag of pretzels makes when I pull it apart. I pull too hard and the side of the bag rips. I have to put my hand to the tear so none of the tasteless, chalky pretzels come falling out. I eat a few but they make me sick to my stomach so I roll up the bag and set it on the chair next to me.  The waiting room here is terrible. The magazines are all wrinkled or torn, the water cooler is empty, and the only thing I could get to come out of the vending machine was that bag of pretzels. My phone died a...

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“An Evening in a Waiting Room” by Oracle Ferguson

Submitted to Contest #49

I am an annual traveller; we have heard several times- travelling is the best way for one to learn the various cultures of this planet, thus each year we pack our bags to be proved exactly the opposite. Every year, at least I have observed that though our looks may differ yet somehow we are all similarly crack-headed. Our lives are equally based on humour and tragedy which balances our lives justifiably. If observed minutely, the fun and folly of a day can make our lives joyous even in our hardships. One such hilarious occasion happened to m...

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“those stickers” by No One

Submitted to Contest #49

That clock. That Stupid clock. It Just keeps ticking. Keeping the beat for the entire room. The clock Decides how you read. It's impossible to ignore. Keeping your breath in tune with the sharp beat. In a way it's soothing. One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi. But then, you get to something that requires your full attention. And suddenly, everything's wrong. You have to stay with the beat. Whether by tapping, cracking knuckles, or just staying with the beat no matter what. When you type, you have to type every other Pause. Let out a breath ever...

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“The Interrogation Room” by Glen Benison

Submitted to Contest #49

The poor bastard does'nt stand a chance.            I watch Watters, through our security camera, pacing back and forth in the hallway adjacent to the interrogation room. Zooming in from the camera’s remote control in my office, I see beads of sweat on his forehead.            I count the twelve strides he takes before he turns and retraces his steps. There’s a manned desk at one end of the hallway, a steel door with a wire-meshed gl...

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“Number 52 Please” by Babylon Jasmine

Submitted to Contest #49

“Number 27 please” I looked down automatically. I knew my number wasn’t 27. I knew it was 52, almost twice 27. Every time that voice came over the speaker, announcing a new number, I still couldn’t help but look down to see if that number had somehow, magically, made it’s way onto my slip of paper. It hadn’t this time, just as it hadn’t the previous five times that I had heard a number and looked down. I looked around. I wanted to see number 27 get up and go through the door, but nobody did. There definitely weren’t enough people in the ...

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“At Xenty.” by Bukola Detims

Submitted to Contest #49

Early Monday morning on Watford street, were busy heads moving up or down with different steps adding to the honk of vehicles and as usual, Jeff was running his way through the crowd,  "Watch it man" the man yelled with readiness to break his hand. "I'm sorry," he said, not giving a second look, he waved down a cab. "Xenty". "Yeah man" the driver replied. He blankly stared through the glass. "Here we are" he pulled up at Xenty Institute, "what do you think could be wrong here?" No reply.  With no light on Jeff's face, he un...

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