Something To Hold On To

Happy Friday my lovely Kindle-ites!

I have been dragging some serious booty in the reading department this week and to make up for it I am putting myself on display. That’s right kiddies… I wrote a flash fiction for y’all, and instead of hiding it away (as per usual) I’m actually publishing it for you to enjoy/hate. Either way… It’s my way of saying “sorry I’m a slacker.”

Happy Reading!
Misty


Something To Hold On To

Kara could see the little boy from where she sat; tapping his foot restlessly against the shiny metal of the otherwise dilapidated orange chair. She had no idea why he was here.

Earache?
Soar throat?

It didn’t really matter. All she knew was that he would get to go home. Yeah, they would probably be stuck here for a while, him and his perfectly attired Stepford mother. They’d be ushered in, poked and prodded, given a few pills, if for no reason other than good measure, and then set free. Like a fish that was lucky enough to be caught by the only catch and release fisherman left on the planet.

Kara on the other hand was stuck. Well, stuck was maybe not the right word for it. Obligated? Dedicated? Doomed?

Today was number twenty-five. Twenty-five days of the same puke pink plaster walls, cranky nurses, and cafeteria slop that tasted like cat food and spoiled cabbage.

The twenty-fifth day of bad news, and wishful thinking.

And they wonder where her pessimism comes from.

Tim was everything she had ever wanted wrapped up in a beautiful cream colored package. Sincere… trustworthy… patient.

Kara herself could claim none of these particular qualities, but having them so close to her always made her feel better. Like she was completing the second half of God’s little cosmic joke. Balancing out what her parents had always referred to as her “Nature vs. Nurture” gene. Kara obviously being heavy on the nature.

But Tim? No… he was a different story all together. Tim was the sensible one.

When Kara decided that tight rope walking would make a great addition to her “bucket list” Tim was the one who annihilated the idea.  At two in the morning, with black permanent marker. Stealthy little shit.

Mid-life crises rollerblading? Tim bought the shin guards. Black ones with little pink skulls on them so she wouldn’t look as bad as she would feel if she were to fall.

Tim was the one to hold her hand when she lost Dakota. Seven month pregnant. Never saw it coming.

So this? This was irrational. This was not her place. This was not what she was made to do.

Tough decisions were not her forte.

Tough decisions were for people like Tim.

She could hear the footsteps now. They sounded as empty as she felt.

“Mrs. Nealon?”
“Yes sir.”
“Have you made your decision?”
“Yes sir.”

Silence.

“Pull the plug.”

About Misty

Your friendly neighborhood narcissist. I'm sarcastic, cynical and a bit cranky. I own a soap box so big that sometimes I have difficulty stepping down off of it, and I'm about 94% certain I have multiple personalities. I don't sleep enough, and I read more than any person should ever consider normal. I have anger management issues, especially when I'm stuck in traffic and I have an unhealthy obsession with my Kindle. I am a vampire lovin', zombie obsessed, book-in-hand, iPod freak. You either love me or hate me. You be the judge.

15 thoughts on “Something To Hold On To

  1. well written, you took the reader on a lighthearted stroll through what seemed to be a little love story and then at the end – smack. I hope you will continue to write 🙂

  2. Whoa. I feel like somebody hit me over the head! That’s really good. Gee, I sure wish I could find something to criticize. Let me see? Let me see? Shit. Nothing.
    No, seriously. Congratulations!

  3. OMG, this was unique, fascinating, intriguing, and then suddenly out of the blue, a gut punch all wrapped in one package. Wow, I never saw it coming. Nice work! You are a very talented writer. 🙂

  4. Wow, that was awesome. Had I not glanced at the last line when I started reading it (bad habit!) I definitely would not have seen that coming.

  5. Oh my GOD, that was awesome. And just why the hell aren’t you writing novels?

    Hon–that was better than good. Do you realize that?

    More. Now. Immediately.

    I’m sad now, though, bitch!

    1. I have serious anxiety when it comes to my writing. I am NEVER happy with it & … I have that “reviewing the reviewer” thing going on. *eek

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