NoteThis is a first draft. I will continue to update the story on the site as I edit it!

Click… Slam!

“It’s dreadfully cold outside,” a low, strong male voice intoned. “Oh, and remember our parking spot, please.”

“I got it, as usual,” a stern, firm female voice replied sarcastically.

They’re here!

“I hate it here. It’s so depressing. I have enough to be sad about as it is. I’m swamped in reports and I’m about to lose one of my top clients. This shit, this is just overkill.” The female voice asserted.

“Should we be careful about saying stuff like that? Maybe we should step outside-”

“No. You and I both know it doesn’t matter one lick. Anyone who believes it is a fool.”


“Why the hell do we keep on coming here, anyway?” the firm voice continued. “This is utterly pointless.”

Oh. I didn’t know…

The question received no response other than a sullen sigh from the strong voice. After a few seconds of silence, the strong voice spoke:

“You know you’re not the only one stressed, right? My checking account is hurting bad. My real estate investments are barely covering the losses.”

“Of course I fucking know that, dummy. I watch that account like a hawk! Honestly, everything is stressing me out these days. Just look at me. I can’t sleep, for one, so I have these repulsive bags hanging off my eyes. And I’m starting to get gray hairs. At forty-two! That’s sickening, Donald. And worst yet, I’m all wrinkly. I have to double down on my make-up now just to look as good as I did two years ago.”

Don’t say that. You’re still beautiful.

“Well all this worrying isn’t helping at all, Carla. You just have to calm down,” Donald admonished.

“Telling an anxious person to calm down is about as helpful as a handle on a wall, Donald,” Carla snapped. “Sodding dunce. You know I can’t help it. It’s the way I am.”

Another thirty seconds of silence followed.

“I just want all of this to be over, Don. Over and done with so we can move on with our lives. I thought about it for a while and put it quite poetically: It feels like an anchor tugging at me, holding me a foot below the surface. Close enough so I can stick my hand out and feel the air but still can’t breathe. We’re so close to the surface, Don.”


Donald chuckled. “I don’t disagree. And I’m glad you brought it up, because I feel the same way but it just seems like such a devilish thing to say.”

Well then why are you here right now?

“Does it matter at this point? This is a foregone conclusion. A lost cause. We both know there’s absolutely no shot of it getting any better.”

More silence.

“Well hey, remember what we’ve been talking about,” Donald suggested. “We can try again after all this is over and wrapped up.”

Fuck you.

“Yes, for once, Donald, you’ve made a good point.” Carla sighed. “She never really met our expectations anyway, did she? So, I’m honestly fine with a do-over, since she was pretty disappointing.”

“Yep, yep, yep. I mean, it wasn’t entirely her fault. We made some mistakes with her. But our second shot will be better.”

Fuck you. Then get the hell out of here!

“I’m going to try again today,” Carla said, confidently.

“To what?”

“To convince them.”


“We should just take her off the ventilator and be rid of her for good. We can end this, Donald. She’s sucking our money away, she’s sucking our time away, and she’s sucking our energy away. I won’t stand for it anymore. She’s not going to recover. It’s been weeks, Donald. Weeks! And even if she comes out alive, she’ll be a goddamn vegetable. Then it’ll be even worse, and well have to deal with it for the rest of our lives!”

No! Go away! Get away from me!

“I- I agree. But the doctors say she might make a really good recovery-”

“She won’t, Donald. Accept it. Deep down, you wish she would just die already so we can move on, just like I do. Let’s both go in there, confident, and demand it.”

Don’t worry mom, I wish I would just die too…

With that, the family was graced with one final, long, heavy period of silence.

“It’s useless being here any longer, then. Let’s go find her doctor,” Donald admitted.

“Perfect,” Carla agreed. “We still going for lunch at Cardoni’s after?”

“Of course!”

Click… Slam!

Thanks for the visit…

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