For almost three years now, I have been part of the best writers group in the world: The Baked Potatoes. You might not have heard of them yet, but you will 😉 My fellow writers and friends Jack, Kathi, MT & Stef accompany me on that otherwise lonely road to become a successful writer.
Last year was a bit of a low for all of us (as you can see in the lack of blog posts). But this year we kicked off with lots of motivation. My friend MT had the genius idea that each of us writes a little piece of Flash Fiction each month. And each month we would choose a topic beginning with the same letter as that months.
Note: This piece is for an older audience than most of my fiction. Please consider this adult fiction.
I won’t be needing it where I am going
I stare out of the window and watch as they drive off in a fancy BMW. They are soon swallowed by the thick fog, heading back into the city. I grit my teeth.
They were selling my flat, they said. Because my stay here was too expensive, they said. But what they really meant was that I wasn’t going to need the flat anymore.
I wasn’t going home ever again.
Wrapping my arms tighter around my shivering body, I mutter words under my breath that I wasn’t allowed to say earlier.
“Ms. Patterson.” One of the nurses approaches me. “Would you like me to accompany you back to your room?”
“I’m good.” I turn away from the window. Maybe the fog will do me a favor and will hide an oncoming car that can smash that stupid BMW off the road.
My footsteps sound hollow on the linoleum floor as I walk down the bleak corridor.
They can keep my stupid BMW. And they can sell my stupid place. I couldn’t care less.
I step into my bleak room which has no curtains, no flowers, no pictures. It is hideous. When I lock the door behind me, a nurse immediately knocks onto it. They don’t like it when we do that. Go figure why they even put a lock on there.
“Ms. Patterson, please unlock the door!”
“Tell them that they can keep my stupid dog too!” I pull a vial out of my robe. There is a single white pill in it. My hands tremble as I unscrew the lid and take out the pill. “I won’t be needing it where I am going.”
It’s all gone now.