A short story written in 2019 about a journey to the new Mars colony.
I opened my eyes and spoke with the angel at the foot of my bed. He didn’t have wings or look like Brad Pitt. His name was Derek; originally from Basildon.
“What happened to me, Derek?”
“You’re dead,” he replied.
“How?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat.
“An hour ago. They tried reviving you. Your time of death was six-thirty.”
“So, I was on my way home from work then?”
“I suppose so,” Derek replied, not seeming to care one way or the other.
“Did they say what caused it?”
“You were texting someone, apparently.”
Good News, Bad News
If it was up to me, I would be anywhere else but this waiting room.
I visit my Doctor as little as humanly possible, in fact, last Monday was the first time I’ve been here in ages. He told me to go to the hospital and take the tests. He said he’d call me back when the results were in.
I got the call an hour ago from the practice nurse. She said the Doctor could see me as soon as I arrived.
The news is not good. It’s twins and my husband has been in prison for two years.
Henry and his Hod
It was yet another day full of unwanted surprises for Henry.
Spectacularly unsuccessful in school, Henry’s working life became even worse. The careers teacher foolishly encouraged employment in hod carrying on a local building site.
Henry had killed several of his fellow workers before lunchtime. In the blink of an eye, the hod and twenty-five bricks fell onto the men below. Their hard hats did not help, their skulls cracked like eggshells. Without the weight of the bricks, the handle of the hod swung around like a helicopter blade and killed another two.
Before the police arrived, Henry was fired.