Member-only story
Five Fifty-word Stories
by Debbie L. Miller
A Tough Case
Rowena strolls into the tearoom. The orange shag carpeting sticks to her sandals, the air reeks of patchouli and leftover turkey gravy. She tosses the package to Marge, then heads for the door. “Hey, don’t you want your palm read?” Rowena turns. “Okay, but I’m in no mood for bullshit.”
Trouble
I was working in the ER three days when in limps this guy holding a parcel covered in mud. “We got trouble,” I yell. The desk nurse screams as the guy hits the floor in a pool of blood. Head doc tells me to mop it up, so I do.
Restraining Order
I sit on the rickety bench in the dingy police precinct, filling out the restraining order application, praying to walk down the street or drive to the supermarket someday without fear, no longer trusting well-meaning friends who chirp, “Why don’t you try online dating? It worked for my cousin!”
Flight
My girlfriend’s squeezing my hand like a vise grip. The screeching is getting worse. People are pressing call buttons. Flight attendants buzz around like bees, hovering over passengers willy-nilly. I look out the window. White. Everywhere. The screeching turns deafening as blue smoke fills the cabin and lights glare.
Cave
Three a.m. He’s riddled with flop sweat.
The air tastes like salt and vinegar.
A tapping at the door. Hands grope the wall, inching toward the sound, feet as cold as the dampness that’s chilling his body. His right hand reaches for the iron doorknob just as the rapping stops.
