Pre-Surgery Concerns_A Stitch in Time_It started with a crash_You'd be late to your own funeral.
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Pre-Surgery Concerns
Do people fart when they’re on the operating table? During surgery I mean, once that anesthesia hits, you take a deep breath, you go to sleep, your muscles relax—all of them. I need someone to confirm that I won’t just let loose as soon as I knock out. Luckily the doctors and nurses will be wearing medical masks over their mouths and noses; who knows, they might even be all plugged up under there, secretly so as not to embarrass their customer. This is my main fear about my surgery, truly; the thought of me, lying naked with a paper bag over my body, mouth gaping open, farting up a storm while...
A Stitch in Time
A Stitch in TimeR. Aaron Falk“Peter, wake up.” A shrill voice assailed his ears.“Go away.” Peter snuggled deeper into the fifteen-year-old easy chair that knew every part of his body. He rolled to the left and wrapped his arms around his chest to ward off the chill air. A surge of magic flashed through Peter’s body. Every muscle twitched. He opened his eyes. Grimilda’s elfin like face stared down at him. He flinched again.“Move your ass.” Grimilda sneered. “I can’t keep this level of magic going forever.”“So don’t.” Peter closed his eyes and tried to ignore the vanilla aroma of Grimilda’s whi...
It started with a crash
A thump, twin shouts of surprise, and the sight of a lone ski continuing on after it had escaped its owner. It all culminated in Amy laying on her back in the snow, staring up at a blue sky. After a moment, her vision was blocked by the helmet of the other skier she’d run into.“You alright there, hun?”Amy lifted one hand in a thumbs up, “right as rain. You?”The other woman let out a snort, “a sight better than you I think. Let’s get you out of the snow before you become an ice cube.” Amy let herself be pulled upright and steadied as she glared at her runaway ski while the other woman brushed s...
You'd be late to your own funeral....
S. Hileman Iannazzo(Better Late than Never Contest Entry)Iwww.onedoor.cc didn’t know morticians don't bother with shoes until I was hauling ass to the church in my stocking feet. I also didn’t know that even though I was the guest of honor, I’d have to ‘walk’ to my own funeral. They loaded my corpse into a shiny black car driven by a somber looking fellow dressed in a neat charcoal suit. While they were arranging all of the flowers around my coffin, I tried to slide in, but I was too late and cursed myself for having stopped to smoke a cigarette on the way out to the line of cars, each adorned with a tiny...