Marie wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Breathing heavily, she glanced impatiently at the bland, hospital door; its paint peeling around the edges; the hinges rusted. She knew that her sister was not in the hands of the most experienced doctors in town, but it was the closest hospital to home. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she interlaced her fingers, scrutinising the short, stumpy nails; a result of her anxious gnawing. Marie's mind wandered, as far as it could from the looming thought of her sister's fate. But within seconds, her thoughts were pulled right back...
The results were in, she said. And he ran and ran and ran and ran, disregarding the shouts of teachers behind him, just running and running and running till he reached the office. It was up on the bulletin board, sandwiched between changes in the lunch menu and posters for bake sales. He stopped for a moment, breathless, eager. Slowly he let himself look at it. The names were up. He scanned through them: Joe Malone. Hendrick Smith. Jerry Pandrip. Jonathan Sinker. Hetty Carbuncle.... so many names. He knew most of them: they had been his companions during the test,...
The results were in. The young men standing before the judges fidgeted anxiously in their military-style uniforms. James Cox, the eldest and team captain of Squad A, licked his lips nervously as he glanced over at his group's only rivals, Squad Z. They'd eliminated the twenty-four others between them through a mixture of deceit, strategy, and main strength.
"Team Captains Cox and Denmark, step forward," Vice-General Mark Harrelson said curtly. Instantly the two young men, both sixteen, moved the single step forward. "Team Z is this year's winner," Harrelson said in a flat voice.
James had an instant of remorse...
My heart was pumping. I ran down the old wooden stairs as the clock striked 3:00pm. I rushed on the computer not caring that I pushed down my grandma and she was hurt. These results were the most important thing in my life. I logged in to my computer as fast as a cheetah, But than I forgot what my password was to the skyward. The heart pumping, my brain was hurting from me trying to remember what the password was."Ahhhhhhh" I screamed grandma who was still on the flor stopped moaning and put her attention to me. " what...
My heart was pumping. I ran down the old wooden stairs as the clock striked 3:00pm. I rushed on the computer not caring that I pushed down my grandma and she was hurt. These results were the most important thing in my life. I logged in to my computer as fast as a cheetah, But than I forgot what my password was to the skyward. The heart pumping, my brain was hurting from me trying to remember what the password was."Ahhhhhhh" I screamed grandma who was still on the flor stopped moaning and put her attention to me. " what...
The results were in. It was his back, that flimsy thing. And I mean that in more than one sense. His back had been giving him problems since we were married. Our wedding night? At the height of passion he suddenly started screaming in pain, as if marriage had injured him. Before that night, he'd never had issues before. And now it wasn't just his spine, it was his unwillingness to be strong and I would bear the brunt of his weakness. Just like I had when we were newly weds. That night I had gotten out of bed, made...
The results were in: I won. I won first place in the contest. What contest? The contest to setermine who would recieve the grand prize of 1 milllion dollars. Shocked, flaberghasted! Amazed! crying! I couldn't belive it! I said to to Milred, the clerk at the counter, "Wait. Are you serious? I won? Are you sure? Could you check my ticket again, just to make sure?" Milred, a 65 year old grandmother who could barely see over the counter, said, "Mister. I've looked at it three times already. You must belive it. You have won. You are a wealthy man...
No swimmers.
No DNA-laden tadpoles.
No way that the child was mine.
If you asked me 10-years ago if I could ever imagine myself sitting in a doctor's office waiting for my sperm count to arrive, I would have told you to fuck off. Or maybe piss off, since I hadn't lived enough life 10-years ago to cuss appropriately.
Yet, here I was. My soon to be ex-wife was pregnant. She didn't know if was my child or the child of the irish man she ran off with 2-months prior. Apparently, that surgery I survived only guarantees 99.995% success. But...
The results were in, and despite it all, she didn't want to know.
She didn't want to be told. She didn't want anyone else to know. She'd fought for these tests, fought to receive the results, and now they were in her hands...
"You're not going to open them, are you?"
He had known all along that she wouldn't do it - she realised it now. He knew her far too well. She placed the envelope delicately onto the table, and took his hands instead.
"I'm not ready to know, not yet. I've had so long getting used to the...
The results were in: she had earned "third runner up" honours.
"Top five ain't bad!" Jeff said encouragingly.
"It's four spots worse than good," Melanie grumbled. "I don't want to be 'not bad'; I want to win something! I want to be recognized!"
Jeff sighed. "I recognize you," he reassured her. "I recognize you more than anything else, or anyONE else, in the whole world. Why do you think I married you?"
"Chocolate trifle," she sniffed.
"Well..." he grinned. "Ok. You got me. I married you for your chocolate trifle. But AFTER the trifle, you're the most important thing in...