Day 79 Writing Short Stories

A Cure-All

The gun swirled between the two of them, escaping out of the door into the dusty ground. There would be death, but not by bullets, but by the cosmic interference of the Great West: tuberculosis. At least, if one of them didn’t get off top of each other and stop the fighting.

The two doctors, if they could be called that, as one was a hack and the other was an university man, had come to a disagreement about the course of events. There had been arguments about invisible forces and divine interventions. The arguments had gotten so heated that a gun had been needed, but luckily for both of the doctors, the gun had decided to hitch a ride and start a new life.

The doctors kept swirling on the floor, taking punches. Yesterday, they had been good buddies, both trying to figure out what was going on in their communities that was driving people to their early graves. Yet, they had succumbed, as so many others in similar situations, to the pressure of things, enchanted by stubbornness and ideologies.

“That’s it!” a voice screamed. “Why can’t you two ever take things seriously?!”

That made the swirl pause. Both of them were taking this highly seriously; hence the punches and all the cursing. The voice just didn’t see it. Both of the doctors concluded that there was no point in stopping the heated argument over the lunacy of a hysterical person, who had no clue how these things were settled.

The owner of the voice hopped over them and caught them by their ears, twisting them tight in her grip. “This ends here and now. There is a line of sick people outside waiting to come in. What will they think if they see two of you in this state?”

That caught their ears.

Both doctors got to their feet and dusted off their clothes, looking at her from under their brows, saying their apologies.

“Now, when it comes to divine interventions or invisible forces, I have come up with a cocktail that has aided my patients,” the nurse said. She produced a glass medicine bottle from her apron and handed it to them.

“I call it a cure-all.”

—

Stories tend to behave badly. They don’t do what I tell them to, and lately they have ignored all the randomly generated boundaries. Today was supposed to be a comic western about rebirth, written in the first-person perspective. It became something, and let’s leave it at that.

I’m not sure if I have anything else to add. Just finished reading The Stranger Times by C.K. McDonnell, and I’m hooked. I couldn’t put the book down. It was a wonderfully humorous urban fantasy about a newspaper writing about UFOs and Loch Ness monsters, and all that. I just ordered all the other books in the series and am in agony waiting to read the next one. I don’t know what to do: start a new book while waiting for the delivery, or… or… not read at all. (Continue reading the other books.)

Thank you for reading! Have a day of Loch Ness monsters and UFOs ❤