A Short Story

It was five minutes to 11:00PM on Friday the 13th, and Dr. Jordan Alexander stood at the unit secretary’s desk in the emergency room of San Antonio Memorial Hospital. She sipped her iced coffee and casually glanced at her watch, waiting for her shift to begin. So far, it was quiet, but like most overnight shifts, that was bound to change in a heartbeat.

“Good morning,” I said as I walked into room 34. I picked up the patient's chart and looked through it. “So you’ve been experiencing speech difficulties, headaches, nausea, and drowsiness?” I asked. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing, though,” Mrs. Gallagher replied.

“ Logan perked up at the sound of his sister’s voice and Noah, for some reason, also stopped. The hair on the back of Noah’s neck stood on edge at the sound of that sweet voice. He had never heard anything quite like it.

“Me? Are you sure I’m the right person for the job, Mr. Wright?” He was still writing. He hadn’t even stopped to look at me. I shuffled the weight from my heels to the balls of my feet. “I mean this sounds more like something Anthony would do.” Mr. Wright’s pen stopped with exaggerated slowness he laid it aside and raised his eyes to survey me.

It was a little scary how fast you adjusted to Ben being in the infirmary full time, and how comfortable you were there. You had come to find the usual bustle of the nurses and patients didn’t really bother you anymore. It was almost like adjusting to a new home, where each creak in the floorboards underfoot feels wrong and foreign, but after a few weeks you don’t even notice it anymore. Even Madam Kalonia began to warm up to you, and it sure was nice to see her harsh frown lines become soft.

As the observation begins the family sat in the waiting room quietly. The husband and wife converse in low tones. The young girl keenly observes the hospital environment, often

"Come on," she said. "Let's get you to the infirmary and check your arm." She helped him get up while holding his hurt arm in a relaxing position. "I'll make you feel better," she whispered in his ear enticingly. Andrea watched with heartache as they walked away together. She had a beautiful body, hair, eyes, probably more than Samuel could ever want. She looked like a goddess in human form. Compared to her, Andrea felt like she was nothing. She's in love with Samuel,

“None of your concern little boy.” Bobo responded with a tone that said that he was not quite enjoying the presence of the child. Bobo briskly walked past Tom, who was hurt by his tone. Tom has been, of course, just trying to be friendly as he was taught by his father. Bobo continued to walk down the path, as he did each morning, and each time he saw a person, he pushed them away, creating an even larger

You walked to the front desk and asked one of the nurse. "Hi, is Dr. David Hendrickson here? I have an urgent concern and would like to have discussion with him."

Booker arrived at the chapel early Monday morning, keen to get his debriefing with Tom over with as quickly as possible. He was professional enough to know he needed to put his disappointment to one side and concentrate on their assignment, but the sting of Tom’s rejection still lingered. He thought they’d made a connection, and he’d looked forward to building a solid friendship with the shy officer. But despite a promising start, he realized he now had no choice but to accept what Penhall had told him. Tom was weird, and his mercurial temperament made it impossible to break down the barriers that kept him at arm’s length. Whether Will was responsible for his brother’s character traits or not was still open for debate, but as far as Booker

"Stop what, I'm not touching ya." Carlos laughed and pressed his hips into her ass, allowing the girl to feel the thick bulge of his erection through the fabric of his jeans. "Not yet. Ya really think Jimmy's not gonna let us fuck you, you don't know Jimmy, and I can't wait to bury my cock in that tight, little cunt of yours." Keeping his voice low enough to be inaudible to the others, the Hispanic tightened his grip on the girl and slid one hand up to briefly squeeze a breast as his gaze slid to his companions. First, to Jimmy, to ensure he hadn't noticed his little infraction with Alyssa, then to Duane.

As expected, when Tom opened his locker the following morning, he found a note from Tyrell. Typed on a ripped piece of paper, the instructions were clear yet concise.

Bucky had begun his fifth circuit of their tiny living room when he heard the tell-tale thump of the busted step leading to their floor: the board was near-rotted underneath the worn carpet and always slid out a bit and back in each time you stepped on it.

"We’ve picked up a John doe, around the age of 31, GSW 's to the chest and abdomen. He 's been beaten rather badly, unrecognizable," the EMT vocalized as she brought him, he was barely hanging in there. The chest of the patient was slowing rising similar to the movement that a jellyfish creates, floating identical to a paper bag. The man was practically drowning from his internal bleeding and was swollen from head to toe. "Clear OR three please and order a CT, his vitals are dropping we need to move him now," Dr. Madison 's voice echoed off the blank walls of the emergency room, "oh and page Dawson." Where the heck is he I contemplated to myself, as I tried to recount where the 6 '3" brown eyed man told me where he was exiting to. We just recently had our second baby boy, Isaiah; Dawson was such a exceptional father that it could engender you reflect twice about him ever doing anything else. "Sinder, your needed in the OR stat," it was as if it came out of nowhere and I awoke from my daze, leaning on the counter of the bright blue nurses’ station.

" Y'ARE very snug in here," piped old Mr. Woodifield, and he peered out of the great, green leather armchair by his friend the boss's desk as a baby peers out of its pram. His talk was over; it was time for him to be off. But he did not want to go. Since he had retired, since his... stroke, the wife and the girls kept him boxed up in the house every day of the week except Tuesday. On Tuesday he was dressed and brushed and allowed to cut back to the City for the day. Though what he did there the wife and girls couldn't imagine. Made a nuisance of himself to his friends, they supposed ... Well, perhaps so. All the same, we cling to our last pleasures as the tree clings to its last leaves. So there sat old Woodifield, smoking a cigar and