Posts
Challenges
Portals
Authors
Books
beta
Sign Up
Challenge
Challenge of the Week LXXVII
This week we're going to try something different. Very different. Sort this challenge feed by newest. Read the most recent post, then continue it. Posts will be constrained to 700 words, so nobody has to read a novella before writing their own entry. When evaluating, we'll read the posts in order, from oldest to newest. Feel free to depart from the previous author stylistically, thematically, or in whichever way you choose, though your entry should be somehow connected to the previous entry. If the previous post is nonsensical, or otherwise hopelessly salvageable, continue from the most recent post you can. (If you do elect to continue from a different post, it'd be helpful if you could indicate which post you're continuing from). We'll write the first sentence. "The dream came to an abrupt end when the hysterical ringing of the telephone split the midnight silence."
Profile avatar image for amypham2
amypham2
138 reads

Hello, sunShine

Well. That was rude.

I stood there, a bit stunned, as I registered what just happened.

He was about 32, and from the bag under his eyes and the short temper, he appeared to have a child. A yell of, “Daddy!” confirmed that theory as I racked my mind for more details concerning this man.

While still fit, he showed signs of a beer belly, indicating a former life of activity negated by sedentary actions, most likely due to the kid. His button down shirt was crooked, the consequence of misbuttoning a top button. Hm, either he doesn’t care about appearance or he’s too hagrid to notice. From the pancake batter still present in his beard, I assumed the latter.

Did I want to knock again? I was here on a mission: to find my long lost brother Erick Stool. Seperated for years, Erick and I had last seen each other on a dark, rainy day. I remember the creasing of his eyes, the sound of his sobs, the rain tasting like tears as we buried the last of our parents’ remains into the ground. There wasn’t much to bury.

I decided knocking was ineffective, and instead burst into the hospital doors, to the protest of a nurse angrily following behind me.

“You can’t do that!” she howled before the door was promptly slammed in her face too. Hey, that was kind of fun.

Brushing off my jacket, I eyed the rude doctor from before. His daughter sat in the corner, coloring happily. Tiffany, read her name tag.

“Now, before I was so rudely interrupted,” I said, watching as the doctor’s mouth gaped open and shut. Easily stunned, I surmised. Off a recent familial argument, too, I surmised from a quick glance at the phone in his hand. Ten missed calls from his mom. Jeez...

“I would like to see my brother, Erick Stool,” I continued, walking to the other side of the room. “I must talk to him, urgently.”

Finally regaining his composure, the doctor grabbed my arm, yanking roughly. “You can’t be in here! He has a no visitors rule. Meaning you. Can’t. Be. Here.”

Easily, I shook his hand off and turned around, walking towards the man on the opposite side of the room. “Now that simply won’t do. The news I bring is lethal.”

“So is he,” cut in the doctor. “He’s contagious. Life-threatening illness.”

“Then why is your daughter here?” I rebuked, not breaking eye contact with the man cowered in the corner. Unshaven, his eyes shook with the fear of a wounded animal.

“How did you know she was my daughter?”

“It was obvious. Did you have a good time last night?”

“What?” The man seemed taken aback. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your clothes were clearly hurriedly put on and wrinkled too, meaning they were either folded or crumpled previously. That indicates you were sleeping elsewhere, or it was laundry day. Now, based off your daughter’s clothes, perfectly primed, it was clearly not laundry day. Tiffany, dear,” I said, whirling around to face the child. She peered up at me, a crayon positioned in one hand. “Where was Daddy last night?”

“I don’t know, I was with the sitter,” she mumbled, already bored as the crayon began moving again.

“Uh huh. Sitter, not mother. However, you still wear a wedding ring. Now, you could also be a widower but you rarely wear your ring. You have tan lines present everywhere except at your ring line. Meaning, you take your ring off often. Need I say more?”

The doctor was speechless, as I often left people. “Okay, five minutes. Go.”

Smirking, I knelt by my brother. “Erick, can you understand me?” I got only a garble as a response. “Mom and dad... I know why they died. They died for you.”

5
2
0