Wednesday Briefs - #4 Flash Fiction



 

Copyright 2103 JC Wallace

Happy Wednesday everyone! Here is my 4th installment for Wednesday Briefs. Owen’s story still has no title! I have never had any issues with titles before. Generally, I have a title very soon into writing a story or even before. This is new for me. I attribute this having never done flash fiction before and having no inkling of the plot I was shooting for when I started. I had an idea for the first scene and that was it. Actually, this was going to be a short story, but now the plot has evolved and I am predicting a finished length around 70,000. Anyway, when I get a title you’ll all be the first to know.

My prompt this week: Where there’s a will there’s a way.

 

 

Owen buttoned up his silky black shirt, and shivered at the thoughts of being with Turk in less than an hour. Owen’s goals for the night; block out the rest of his life, concentrate on having fun and fuck the dark, luscious man tonight. Things needed to move quickly with Turk. Owen grabbed several packets of lube and a few condoms and shoved them into his pocket. Owen had a deadline. Two weeks to have fun. Two weeks to live life until reality cut it short. He didn’t need the upcoming barrage of medical tests to know the results. His body was already telling him the truth.

Looking in the mirror, Owen ignored the dark circles beneath his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks, the red flush coloring his cheeks and forehead, and the sweat beading around his hairline. The arctic temperatures from the AC couldn’t compete with his internal temperature. One hundred and two degrees as of this afternoon. Not too high, but it wouldn’t remain that way. He tried to beg it off. Just two weeks and then he’d give in, give up. He’d fought long enough, right?

Owen shook off the morose thoughts. He’d become a master at hiding the crap in his life, especially around others. With a laugh and a joke and twinkle in his eye, he could conceal the fears and worries and pain swimming beneath the surface. Owen’s illness made people uncomfortable and changed their actions and behaviors. Words were censored, moods were somber and most people refrained from sharing anything good and positive as if Owen were too fragile to handle hope and optimism. Nope. He continually hid it all to make them comfortable, pretending he was physically and emotionally fit in an attempt to curtail their guilt over being healthy and happy. It was a fuck load of responsibility, but without this effort, the atmosphere surrounding Owen turned to something akin to a funeral.

There was knock on his door. Opening it, Owen found Wayne waiting, holding the house phone in his hand, his thumb over the speaker.

Wayne frowned and stuck his hand past Owen into the room. “It’s like a meat locker in there.” His confusion gave way to a questioning stare.

“I was working out.”

Wayne raised his eyebrows with that annoying “I don’t think I believe you” look.

Owen pointed to the phone to avoid any questions. “That for me?”

Wayne grimaced and looked at the phone in his hand as if he’d forgotten about it or...

Owen sighed in defeat. “It’s my mom, isn’t it?” He’d been ignoring her calls, hoping to put her off until tomorrow.

Wayne nodded sympathetically and handed it over.

“Thanks,” Owen said, closing the door. Girding his loins, he raised the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Owen! I’ve been calling you all day. Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

The screechy tone stabbed into Owen’s brain. He clamped his eyes shut.

Before he could answer, she asked the question he hated the most. “Are you sick?” Quickly, the second question he hated the most followed the first. “How’re you feeling?”

Owen rolled his eyes despite the guilt fighting to seize control. Sick, yes. Feel like crap, but I’m going to get laid tonight so it’s all good. God, how he needed to get laid.

Clutching the phone tight, Owen retained his resolve to hide his state of being from his mother. “I’m fine, Mom. I was working on some code. Sorry, I ignored your calls, but I was at work.”

Silence. Silence from his mom was never good.

“I wish you’d come home.” Her quavering tone clenched at his gut. She loved him, had fought to keep him alive most of his life, was his rock, his advocate, his mom, and he loved her for every sacrifice she’d made. He’d broken her heart by moving out, but for once, he was doing something for himself.

“Mom, I’m good. I need to be here. I need to be independent, feel like an adult.” Nothing she hadn’t heard before, just something she couldn’t accept.

A sniffle.

He was such an ass.

“I know, but I worry about you. Your checkup is coming up and...”

So much for blocking out his miserable life. “I’ve been feeling great. Actually worked out today. Got a date tonight with a hot guy. It’s all good.” He poured every ounce of upbeat, positive energy he had into those words. He needed her to believe him.

More silence. Several heartbeats and Owen braced himself for the coming onslaught, but it never came. Muffled voices came through the receiver. She was talking to someone and didn’t want him to hear. Had to be his stepfather. Good. He’d talk her down. The man was anything if not logical.

“I’m really glad to hear that, honey.” The shake in her voice told him she was forcing the words out. “What’s his name?”

Got to love her for trying. “Turk. He’s a friend of Wayne’s. Actually, he’s picking me up in about thirty minutes, so I don’t have much time.”

He needed to get off the phone before she brought reality crashing through the walls he’d constructed.

“Okay. Don’t forget your appointment with Dr. Celo on October second. We need to be there by eight a.m. I think you should come home a couple of days before—”

“Mom, I’ll be there.” His lies were securing his place in hell. “We can talk more about it when it gets closer. I gotta go. Bye.”

He clicked the phone off before she could reply. He wouldn’t be seeing Dr. Celo, the doctor who had treated him from the beginning. He had wished to spare his mother the agony of waiting out test results and, where there’s a will there’s a way, so on the 25th of September, he had an appointment with a specialist in Burlington. Armed with the test results, he would then return home and drop the big bomb. He was coming home to die.

##

Now check out the other flasher’s this week!

Chris T. Kat

Lily Sawyer
Shelly Schulz
Cia Nordwell
Elyzabeth VaLey
Rob Colton
Victoria Adams
Renee Stevens
Tali Spencer
Julie Lynn Hayes
A.R. Von
Nephylim