Welcome to my writing corner. Here you'll find stand alone stories and tales that stretch much longer. You'll find tales ranging from medieval adventure to modern stories about real people with a sci-fi twist. If you like/hate what you read, drop me a line and let me know.

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Sunday, August 29, 2010

What If? - Chapter 13

“Amber?” I haven’t spoken to her in years, except for my trip to the reality where I married her.

“You sound surprised! Is your wife around?” Her voice seeps with anger.

“No. Surprised? Yeah, a little. Why are you calling me?”

“Why am I calling you?” I hate when people repeat questions back to you, “You stood me up twice and then never answer your phone. I waited in the hotel for hours!”

I have no clue what she’s talking about, my brain starts to wrap around the puzzle quickly. “Holy shit, we are having an affair!”

“Jesus Christ! Of course we are! What are you trying to pull anyway?” I am really pissing her off.

I stop for a moment, take a deep breath and try to reason this out. I went to a reality where I could draw and now I can. I went to a reality where I was with Amber and now I am. Kind of, I'm also with my actual wife, this situation is totally fucked.

The pause lasts too long “Are you there? I can hear you breathing.” I can picture her in my head, mouth small and frowning, thin eyebrows furrowed. “Listen, I’m not going to play games with you. Meet me at the hotel tonight at six or we are through.”

“Which hotel?” Why am I even asking her?

“We’ve been going there for three years and now you need the address?”

She gives me the address in the rudest most exacerbated way possible before hanging up on me.

I slide the phone into my pocket, stomach knotted, palms sweaty. I’m not sure what to make of the entire thing. I tell my boss I’m sick and need the afternoon off. After leaving the meeting abruptly, he doesn’t ask many questions.

I haul ass over to Pat’s lab, ignoring all traffic signs, I almost get hit by a car. In some reality I probably do get hit and die. Suddenly that reality doesn’t seem so bad. Moments later I burst through the thick wooden lab door, the knob smashes into the brick wall behind the door loudly.

Pat is wearing a long white lab coat, clear rubber safety goggles strapped to his face. Two assistants stand behind him with clipboards in hand. He’s holding a mangy brown and white cat over a glass box filled with poisonous green gas. They all stop and stare at me blankly.

“Pat! What the fuck did you do to me?”

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