From Worst Day to Best Day

You are having the worst day of your life when someone calls and changes it for the better. Who calls, what’s it about and what series of events follow that call to help brighten your day?

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

20 thoughts on “From Worst Day to Best Day

  1. thismaybetheend

    This may be the end for me. There was nothing I could do to fix it. My head lay on the soft, plush pillow while the rest of my body elongated towards the other end of the queen-sized bed. I am a mess. The only thing that swarms my mind are the thoughts of the widely known rumors of love. Before I even got to say anything to her. I sulk in great quantities; my heart aches of embarrassment.
    “There’s nothing I can do,” I tell myself. Words spread like a plague, with everyone catching it and passing it on to the next person. And to think the rumors are true.
    Well, almost true.
    I kind of did stalk Annie, attempt to figure out everything about her, and watch her from afar, but doesn’t every normal teenage boy do that? Too scared to talk to the person the love, they just sigh in defeat and pray that that one day will come?
    My phone buzzes minute after minute by people texting me on the rumors; my friends try to console me, my enemies mock me, my classmates have sympathy.
    This may be the end for me.
    Suddenly, I hear a phone call. Reluctant to pick it up, I put my hand over my phone, ready to throw it. But then I decide not to and answer it without looking at who called.
    “Hello?” Came the voice through the phone. “I heard…I heard about the rumors. Is it true, all of it? That you actually like me? Because…although this may sound weird, I kinda like you back, and have been doing the same thing to you.”
    She called? She’s trying to convince me that she likes me back? And she’s not mad, but almost relieved that I like her back? Did this just become the best day ever?
    I certainly hope so.

  2. mikustrawberry

    Beep! Beep! Beep! My alarm screams into my eardrum, oh not again i think its 5:30 in the morning and i have to get ready for school. I finally get out of bed, only to knock my glass of water onto my ipod touch! NO! I scearm as I try to turn it on over and over. Time flew past, “Oh crap!” i thought when it was 6:15, i look in the mirror say a few swear words under my breath as i notice the, horrid birds nest on my head. Just to make my morning better i missed the bus, I watched helplessly as it glided past me i could see my friends in the back snickering as they saw me and my hair, which was up in a messy bun.

    During the school day it wasnt too bad, at lunch everything changed. My boyfriend broke up with me, i found out one of my friends was pregnant, and i realized i had the biggest test tommorow in AP chem. “Curse monday, just curse it” i muttred down the halls as wondering eyes watched me walk on by. “Huh” i thought ” why are they staring at me?” I look down and to my amusment theres toilet paper stuck to my shoe. My face is literly on fire, i mean on of the teachers asked me if I needed to go to the nurse. Again curse this monday.

    When i got home i found out my brother got a fine for speeding, but in my car….
    My sister was put on medication for depression and we found out she was cutting herself.
    My life sucks!

    As i entered smelling the sweet smells of perfume, i put on my pointe shoes and walked to the bar. Thats when Miss Alantia’s cell phone went off, it had a nice melodic rington. She said it was for me. It was 5:30 in the evening when my mom was almost crying into phone, i had made it to Harvard, all of the sudden the worst day of my life was the best day of my life. I actually got the lead part for our recital, and it was all because of that call.

    Hey sorry for a bad jumbled up story this is my first time soo, i guess i still have stuff to learn. 🙂

  3. AndreaNicole1987

    “Beek, beek, beek….” the alarm screams.
    With all intentions of shattering my clock radio, I roll over, fist balled into a rock and punch the snooze button. I peel my eyes open to discover it is 11:30am.
    I scramble out of bed as full as panic mode sets in. It’s the third time this week I have been late, Ralph is going to kill me!! I snatch my jeans from the floor and dial work, a number I know by heart.
    “Thank you for calling Angelo’s, my name is Alice, how may I help you this afternoon?”
    “Hey Alice, it’s Gabby, is a Ralph around?”
    “Actually he was just calling you, here.”
    “You better be calling to tell me you are getting out of you car and will be standing in front of me in the next 45 seconds. We are getting our asses handed to us today. I need you. NOW!” Ralph explodes from my iphone.
    I scramble to get out the front door, “Ummm, well, not quite 45 secs, but I am on my way. I’m so, so sorry. I will make it up to you! I’ll stay late! Whatever you need!”
    Before slamming the phone to the receiver, Ralph spats, “What I need is for you is to be here ON TIME!!!”
    Fifteen minutes later, I burst into the back door of the restaurant. Instantly I want to crawl into a whole and die.
    “I wore the wrong fucking uniform! Really!” I scold myself
    It’s convention week and instead of our dress jeans and black polo shirts we are required wear black, dress slacks and a fitted, light blue button down.
    “Shit, shit, shit.”
    Maybe I can sneak back out the door and run to the Old Navy across the street. What more is ten minutes going to hurt at this point. I being to back out and,
    “Finally, you have decided to grace us with your presence Miss Gabby,” Ralph appears,”and I see you are not in proper uniform. Why don’t we take a walk.”
    I follow Ralph into the office and am greeter by two other managers. I immediately want to throw up.
    “We have no choice, except to let you go. Your attendance has been unacceptable.
    ..” I stopped listening after that.
    I sulk to my car, numbers, and bills race through my mind. I turn the key anticipate the roar of my car and nothing. I try again, nothing.
    ” Are you fucking kidding me? Out of gas? Really?” I scream
    So not only have I just been fired, but now I am stranded in the parking lot with no gas, and no cash. I let my head smash into the steering wheel as tears of defeat stream down my face. I’ve Got all the Girls, by Calvin Harris erupts through the car.
    “Hey sis, you have a minute?” Jessica asks
    “I have all the time in the world Jess. What fantastic thing just occurred in your fantastic life.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Oh nothing. I got fired about 3 minutes ago and now I’m praying the fumes I have will get me to the closest fill station. I can’t walk back in that building to ask for help from those people,” I cry.
    “Gabby, I am so sorry!! Now wipe those tears off your face because I am about to make your day! To begin with, the wedding is off. Now hear me out because I am more than fine. It was the best decision I have ever made. And he’s fine too. Jack and are just aren’t right for each other.’ she says
    “Honestly, its a relief! Go ahead.”
    “Anyway, the honeymoon is non-refundable and I have asked if I could move the date up. They said absolutely. So since you are free how would you feel about leaving tomorrow for a week in the Bahama’s?”
    Now I am sobbing uncontrollably, unable to form words I shake my head “yes” furiously. Suddenly there is a knock at my window. Standing there is my loving sister, phone in one hand, gas can in the other.

  4. HoraceGladstone

    I threw my keys on the coffee table, collapsed onto the couch, and buried my face into my hands. It was one of those days that felt like I should have stayed in bed.
    I closed my eyes and thought back to when my day started to spiral.

    It started with an irate customer’s rant about the store policy, which quickly escalated into a fit of rage when he threw a hot cup of coffee at me, I ended up getting scalded and my new shirt was ruined.

    Later on during my shift, I was summoned to my incompetent manager’s office.
    After enduring his litany of complaints, he informed me in his condescending tone of voice that I was fired. I had five minutes to clean out my locker and leave the building.

    On the long drive home, I got a flat tire and split my pants while putting on the spare.
    I must have looked like a fool with a coffee stained shirt and torn pants on the side of the road.

    As I was mentally reviewing the lousy events of my day, my thoughts were interrupted by the phone.

    “Hello?” I answered wearily.

    “Hi, sweetie!”

    It was my crazy Aunt Sandra.
    She knew how to put anyone back in good spirits when they were feeling down.

    “What’s wrong?”

    I described to her the worst possible day I ever had. Afterwards, she consoled me.

    “These things always have a way of working themselves out. They always do, honey, watch and see.”

    I smiled. She always knew what to say.

    “Thanks, Aunt Sandra.”

    What she said next took me by surprise.
    “I have a plan.”

    My crazy Aunt Sandra had a reputation for making plans.
    They always turned into an adventure.
    I was curious about what idea popped into her head this time.

    “What’s your plan?”

    “We’re going to pet the puppies.” she announced.

    I couldn’t help but smile.

    “What puppies?”

    “The ones at the Humane Society; so make sure you’re ready when I pick you up.”

    I told her that I’d be ready when she showed up.
    I hung up the phone and realized that I still smelled like coffee and how disheveled I looked. I went to take a quick shower and get a fresh change of clothes so I could join my crazy Aunt on an adventure to pet the puppies.

  5. MsMelanian

    I got everything I need packed and ready last night. This presentation is going to take me over the top. I have spent the last two weeks practicing, even ate right and exercised!
    I’m up before sunrise with plenty time to dress and travel. My hair fell from the curlers perfectly; I barely need to style it. My skin is glowing and my make-up looks good. My suit fits like I was poured into it; every crease is sharp and in place.
    I toss my apples and berries into the juicer. Wait a minute, is that overcast? I totally forgot to check the weather. No matter—I’m ready!
    I grab my purse and briefcase, insert an umbrella and head for the door. Simultaneously the sky releases a heavy downpour. Twenty steps from porch to car; a wind gust slaps my umbrella useless. Why is my remote not working? I use the key open the car; I’ll be dry before I get there.
    I stuck the key in the ignition and turned. Nothing happened. Oh my god, I remembered, preparing the car last night I forgot to turn off the interior light! No problem, I grabbed my cell and dialed my road service; minutes later they call me back.
    “Ma’am we are at the corner but unfortunately the road has been blocked off.”
    “Really? I’m sure they will let you through to get to a resident.”
    That might be so ma’am, but the entire road is under water. We’ll be happy to try again this afternoon”
    “This Afternoon?! Can’t you walk the machine in from the corner; I’ll pay extra?”
    “Ma’am, there is no visible side walk here.”
    I ranted on, but he assured me that even if my car worked, I wouldn’t be able to leave at this time. I grabbed the inverted umbrella, snapped it back and went to see for myself that my entire street was now a rapid river. I waded back to the car, got in and slammed the door.
    The phone rang. It was Mr. Huffington’s number. I didn’t yet know how to say what I had to say.
    Hello?” I tried to add the appropriate tension and rolled down the window for sound effect.
    “May I speak with Diane?” I recognized the female voice.
    “This is she.”
    “This is Mr. Huffington’s secretary, I am sorry but Mr. Huffington had a family emergency and has requested that I reschedule your presentation. He is very disappointed having to do so and asked me to give you his deepest apologies.”
    I rolled up the window.
    “hello?” the voice said
    “uh, yes, I’m here, No problem, that’s fine, I understand…things happen. Please tell him I hope everything goes well for him and his family and let him know I look forward to our rescheduled meeting.”
    “I hope this has not inconvenienced you too much…”
    Oh no, not at all, I hadn’t left yet. Your call was perfect timing.

  6. Icabu

    Dragging into my tiny apartment, I threw my purse on the couch, taking out the frustrations of the day on the inanimate object. I plopped on the couch, too, feeling as discarded as my purse. I pulled off my shoes and rubbed my aching feet, massaged my cramping calf muscle. With no money left for gas, I was literally ‘pounding the pavement’ in my quest for employment. Like so many others in this economic mess, I was let go after three years of steady service.

    I pulled a battered notepad from my leather briefcase and crossed the twenty-first name off my list of twenty-six. Miller and Anderson Associates were not even accepting resumes. Only three offices had accepted it, but each had cautioned that they were not hiring at this time. It didn’t take a complicated mathematical equation to figure the low odds for any of the remaining law offices on my list to even acknowledge I existed, let alone actually hire me.

    Recessions suck, my mind yelled. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and found myself actually contemplating what jobs other than law that I’d possibly accept. Wiping the tear away that such thoughts provoked, I forced my mind in a different direction.

    “Dinner,” I said aloud. I had a variety of Ramen noodle packs to choose from. Instead, I slumped into the couch, no longer hungry and let the tears flow freely.

    “Hello.” The phone call had interrupted my personal pity party. My voice was still a little shaky from crying and thick with exhaustion.

    “This is she,” I responded to my name. My befuddled brain had difficulty keeping up with the prim female voice speaking from the phone. Ashcroft, Bradley and Crossfield had read my resume … they had an opening for an associate lawyer … could I come in tomorrow for an interview?

    After I hung up the phone, and realization settled in, I did a happy dance in my stocking feet. I hoped my affirmative answer didn’t sound as desperate as it definitely was. I wanted to celebrate with Ramen Teriyaki Beef and tap water.


    Stepping from my office, I glanced down the plush hallway toward the lobby. The young woman handing papers to the receptionist took me back twenty years, to the last recession. Although I have been a full partner for twelve years, after eight years as a dedicated associate, I still remembered being unemployed and walking the streets looking for law work. I was very much like the young lady in the lobby with her conservative skirt and jacket, moderate heels, and leather briefcase.

    I approached the receptionist after the young lady left. One of my first actions as a partner was to insist all resumes be accepted. I reviewed them every Friday evening. The practice had garnered three competent associates through combing all available applicants. I felt we could use a fourth and retrieved the young lady’s papers to review this evening and possibly place a phone call.

  7. mhaug01

    My first wave of nausea swept over me upon entering the grocery store. Although on most days I would indulge in the deliciousness of greasy fried chicken, I found myself hoping today that the odor would be overcame by the smell of newly stocked boxes of dried foods. As if my shiny bald head could not draw enough attention to my persona, my pale face seemed to take on a new shade of blotchy green. Under my eyelids, I watched pitied looks head in my direction.
    “Miss, are you okay?” Some older gentleman asked with genuine concern.
    “Oh, I’m fine. Usually the first few minutes in the market are the most difficult.” I politely stated with a forced smile.
    We both moved down the aisles our separate ways. He seemed so held together for the many wrinkles that lined his face. I envied his vitality yet I was thirty five years his junior. At first having cancer seemed so easy to breeze through. The sympathy the expected and well received. Difficulty would be the name of the game and I would fight through with living colors. Now that time has been put into this lifestyle of being sick, I found myself resenting even old strangers at the super market. So much for a super hero mentality!
    My cell phone starts to ring and vibrate uncontrollably. I hurriedly grab the phone out of my purse and look at the caller ID. Unknown caller and many zeros as the digits covered the screen on the phone. I wondered if it was a bill collector, but answered the phone anyway.
    “Hello,” I said weakly.
    “Is this Mary?”
    “Who is this?”
    “Mary, this is your mom.”
    I almost dropped the phone to the floor. The lady sounded like my mom, but it couldn’t be her. Mom had passed away two years ago from cancer. I attended her funeral and watched her coffin lower to the ground. This could not be my mother!
    “Sweetie, the reason I am calling you is that I found out you are making my special rhubarb pie for your father and I wanted you to not forget the nutmeg while you are at the grocery store. I love you and you will get through this battle very soon.”
    As rapidly as the message was carried through into my ear, the phone clicked off. I found myself listening to the emptiness of the ended call, possibly hoping for her voice to appear again. After the initial shock, I put my phone back into the purse and took out the list. Nutmeg was not on it. So I quickly went to the spice aisle to grab a small bottle of the herb. Right in front of my desired item, stood the most beautiful man I had never met before.
    He looked into my eyes and said, “Hi.”
    I found my face turning red and without anything stopping the fluid motion of my words, I asked, “Do you like rhubarb pie?”

  8. koolcid11

    “RING, RING, RING” I walked to the phone and picked it up. “We are proud to tell you miss. Terry that you have won the fantasy writing contest, you are expected in Washington D.C in 24 hours to present your story to the First Lady. You will get your money in D.C., see you soon.” I dropped the phone and ran to my bedroom to throw some clothes into my suitcase. I couldn’t believe that this just happened. I just won $12,000 in cash! I had to get going, I thought to myself for a long time. I have to get going, I lived about 10 hours away. Once I finished packing, I jumped into my car and I was on my way.
    When I got to D.C, I puled up to the Hay-Adams Hotel. When I walked in and up to the desk to check in, the person at the desk walked up to me and said, ” It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss. Terry, I will walk you to your room.” Confused, I followed the man to the second floor. He gave me the key to the room and left. That was weird, but cool. I walked in, and to my surprise it was the best suite I have every been in. Every body in D.C. must know that I won the contest, I thought to my self. I picked up my cell phone and called my mom. When she picked up the phone and I told her what had happened, she said “You have got to be kidding me, Really?! Oh I am so proud of you! Tell me how it goes, please. Okay, love you bye.” after we said our goodbyes I flopped myself onto the bed and closed my eyes and dreamed about how my day will go tomorrow.
    I awoke with a start, someone was knocking at my door. I got up off of the bed and through on my robe. I walked up to the door and opened it. There was a man pushing a cart with a lot of food on it. “Would you like free room service, miss. Terry?” Free room service? My morning was going great so far. I nodded my head and he pushed the cart into the room and stepped aside. “When you are finished I will come up and get the cart.” He left the room and walked down the hallway. I looked at the cart. Waffles were piled up on a plate, scrambles eggs were on the side. All sorts of food was on the cart. A glass of milk was in a glass cup. I felt my hand reach out at take the plate of waffles. I stuffed myself till everything was gone.
    I walked over to the window and looked out at the beautiful afternoon sun high over the city. I sat down in a chair beside the window. My eyes fell on the closet across the room. A piece of material was shining through the crack of the door. I walked up to the closet and opened carefully. My mouth fell open when a brand new selection of clothes were in it. My boring old clothes were still in my suit case. I decided to were my new clothes. A blue shirt with a pair of jeans. I grabbed my purse and left the room.
    Once I was in my car, I drove to the white house. I drove past all sorts of things. Traffic wasn’t so bad. When I pulled into the parking lot of the white house, I stared in awe. The white house was twice as big as the ones I see online or in pictures. I walked up to the door. There were two men with guns in there hands. “Your name miss.”
    “Kat Terry” The guards nodded and opened the doors. They led me up to this one room that must have been the one I was supposed to be in. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. I pushed open the door and drew a smile across my face.

  9. luotoslo

    When all seemed lost, I felt all the time that the day would never be the same, after having spent two hours in line at a bank, after having my wallet stolen by a twelve year old boy who seemed thinner than a skeleton, I felt that maybe everything was going wrong in my life. And then I heard the phone ringing and I thought, phones don’t ring in the morning, so I opened the house’s door at that time so bizarre. A woman of piercing blue eyes and blond hair like an angel, she smiled and showed me an open white bag, full of papers.

    At the same time I thought, more bills to pay, they would not send a woman just as spectacular as that on the door of my house. Maybe it was all a dream, then I pinched my left arm, still trying to believe that everything was just an illusion, a product of my overactive imagination.

    “Doctor Robert, you only have thirty minutes to accept my proposal.”

    Those hypnotical lips continued to say words at a speed so slow that it was as if heaven were really wanting to show me a revelation. What kind of proposal that woman would do? If it were a marriage, then it would be a good idea, I was tired of finding girls who just wanted to know how much I had in my pocket, if I had a car or if I was someone famous. This time everything would work out, and then I could quit my job of dentist. It was horrible having to pulling teeth of grumpy people, that only knew complaining of life.

    “Listen, girl, if this is some kind of joke, know that I am not enjoying it. It is better to just tell me the truth. What is the proposal?”

    “Doctor Robert, we was watching your last days, and we arrived at a conclusion.”

    This time I was sure she was part of some bizarre group of collectors, or perhaps a woman as elegant as that was trying to sell me insurance policy. She then placed the white bag open on the ground and pulled out a blue pen from the pocket of her red t-shirt, which revealed a neckline so provocative that I almost forgot to remove the eyes of those marvelous breasts.

    “Look, I have no time to lose with you, Miss. Maybe you could come back here another day and…”

    “No, Doctor Robert, you do not understand. You have no choice. You should just accept the offer, your days are shorter and faster. Have you not noticed?”

    I had no choice but to accept the agreement. After three minutes the paper was signed and my wrist was cut. Four drops of blood were enough. After that day so strange I never saw again that woman, but their presence continued haunting me, bringing me luck and fortunes until the end of my last days of life.

  10. Ailora

    Tony reached for the phone, but her intention to retrieve voice messages and extinguish the annoying little red light was thwarted when Mitchell stuck his head in her door.

    “Morning, Tony.”

    “Hi Mitchell. What’s up?” She distractedly responded.

    “Oh, just trying to schedule a meeting with Terry but she’s blocked out for the next half hour. Odd that she’s got something this early in the AM.”

    Tony grimaced. “That’s my fault, I guess.”

    “Oh, you’re meeting with Terry? What for?”

    “Beats me. Maybe it has something to do with the job description she had me rewrite.”

    Mitchell dipped in for a swig of coffee and stopped mid swig. “Whose job description did you rewrite?”

    Tony was running behind and felt like shining Mitchell on, she decided against it. “Mine, of course.”

    Mitchell stared at her, or rather through her. “But, why?”

    Tony sighed. “I dunno. Maybe she wants to give me a raise. Or an assistant.” She eyeballed the blinking red light on her phone.

    Mitchell wrinkled his nose.

    Impatience seeped into Tony’s voice. “What?”

    “Nothing. It’s just that … Terry asked Gary to rewrite his job description, too.”

    Gary had been fired a month ago, after a quick, unceremonious morning meeting with Terry. The red light blinked. The phone rang and Tony jumped. It was Terry’s line. “I’m sorry Mitchell, I’ve got to take this.” Tony gave her an empathetic look and scurried away, probably headed to the break room to share his new nugget of gossip.

    She grabbed up the phone. “This is Tony.”

    “Tony, if you’re ready please join me in my office.”

    Tony tried to read the meaning behind Terry’s terse statement. “Okay.”

    Terry hung up. Tony held the phone a second before cradling it. She walked towards Terry’s office in a stupor. She had started mentally cataloged the things in her office that she would take with her. All her personal stuff, certainly, but she also wanted a few other things, including her stapler. She chuckled at that, one quick moment of panic and she was channeling Milton Waddams.

    She entered the office, sat and listened to the demise of her career. She took it well, barely focusing on Terry’s nasally droning voice.

    She went back to her office, collected her things (including the stapler) and scanned the room one last time. Something caught her eye. That damned blinking red light. She debated on answering it. Screw it, she thought. She sat her box down and grabbed the phone. One message, it was Dan, her boyfriend. “Shit, Tony, check your cell messages!” He sounded agitated.
    Once outside the building Tony stopped and checked her phone. She had a whole host of messages, from her Mom and Dan. But she only listened to the first one.

    “Antonia, this is Mom. Oh dear, honey we’ve won the lottery! Call me back. Forget that, quit your job and get your butt over here. Dan’s already here, everyone is! We’re waiting on you so we can start celebrating!”

  11. Stacey Rose

    A blow out on the side of the highway in the pouring rain, with one bar on her cell phone, and AAA refusing to come to the rescue as her membership had not been renewed due to the card on file being declined, is where her day had taken her.

    She resigned to sit there until she disappeared or some dutiful Samaritan came to her rescue. Cleaning her purse also seemed like a viable solution so she began doing that and had found the bedazzled hair clip she’d been looking for when the phone rang. There was a brief exchange that included the laundry list of misery she’d just endured. She was about to ask for a life line when one of a highly unexpected variety was thrown to her.

    “She what? I don’t even kn…wait, wait, wait. Tell me again, REAL slow.”

    The details were rolling into her ear quicker than her brain could process them, but she tried to anyway. What did come through crystal clear was that she was now rich. No. Wealthy. By virtue of an inheritance bestowed upon her by someone she didn’t know/could never know, as she was dead. Aunt Ernestine was dead and she’d passed along every earthly possession she had to her only niece, who just happened to be named Ernestine. Coincidence? Miracle? It didn’t matter. She hung up the phone and stepped out of her tiny hatchback with the gimp tire into the monsoon. She walked…no, strolled to the Texaco at the next exit whilst whistling no less. She would not realize for many years that her new found prosperity would bring misery far worse than the minor inconveniences she endured that day.

  12. onaway

    So the phone’s ringing and I got this gun in my hand. Slowly I let my arm come down. This is a heavy gun. I rest the revolver noiselessly on the couch cushion. Rejecting the call, I sigh and drop the phone; it bounces lightly and rolls over as if to cry. I light another final cigarette for the third time and stare straight ahead for a while. My eyes see the futures, my ears hear the breathing and I feel my heart beating. All this input and no output. “Useless…Ahh, to Hell with it,” I say jumping up from the couch and turning the radio on. The phone rings again, this time I answer:
    “Hey. This is (the ghost of) Ed McMahon. You just won ten mill.”
    “No way!”
    “We’re sending you a big fat elephant check in the mail. Congratulations,” and he hangs right up. This is good news, I reckon. I put down the phone and quit smoking (for good this time). Then I fire off the rounds from the pistol into the ceiling- screw the neighbors. I call everyone I know worth calling and tell them to meet me at the bar. I get dressed like any other payday and walk to the party store around the corner, pick up a six pack of beer and shove all the cans into my pockets, then I buy one last pack of smokes and spend the change on a winning lotto ticket. Later that night- another 32 million in my pocket. I never make it to the bar to meet my friend and brother. A limousine of eleven Czech supermodels sees me and my cans of Bud and insists I join them for a ride. Then to their suite for a shower. Then back out to a club. At the bar I run into the U.S. President. He tells me he needs an ambassador in the Seychelles and offers me the job. I accept. I run into the Dos Equis beer guy and kick the sh*t out of him. Then I DJ a bit cuz music they play sucks nowadays. The Czech girls hook up with some Russian girls and two Brazilian ones and we all head back to my sh*tty apartment and they love it. We laugh at the holes I shot in the ceiling and a raccoon watches us through the holes. The President sends a limo and I help the driver carry all my stuff out to the car. Half of it I throw out. The rest I give to the homeless. Phone rings: Nobel Prize, another million. Call waiting- Pulitzer. I set everyone up for life who needs setting up, and then I get to work curing disease. It’s almost time for lunch. After lunch I fly the space shuttle to my new home on the sun.


    I opened my left eye groggily and stared at my good for nothing alarm clock. Next second I am out of my bed with such a jerk that an onlooker would have believed that I have been electrocuted. Shit! The stupid thing did not make any sound. Damn, why today? My haughty Boss (which is an understatement) is expecting an important visitor in next hour. Shit, shit, shit….I am going to be murdered today. One hell of a lecture on this. Though I do not understand why I am still doing this secretary job despite holding a post graduate in Commerce from one of the most prestigious college in the country or move back with my parents. Not again, I told myself sighing loudly.

    I rush to the bathroom and there was no water. Of course the water pump had gone bad two days back. I open the refrigerator and use drinking water for brushing my teeth. No ironed clothes, obviously. When will start you organizing your things?, my inner voice disturbed the fresh swear words flowing freely from my mouth. Not now please, I said loudly, silencing both of them.

    I pull up a shirt made of crushed cotton along with jeans. I had not worn it for a long time. Wow nice find! The last button was not there – Ok now I get it. I sighed and tucked it inside my filthy jeans – I was hoping my long shirt would cover up the red stain on the jeans. An email on office protocols was bound to hit my mailbox. May be even an ultimatum.

    Nothing to eat, nothing to drink. Alright that did not come as a surprise, there was no food in my refrigerator (Grow up! Shut up!) and I had used up all the remaining water in brushing my teeth.

    Yuk, no bathing even today. But a generous spray of deodorant helps – I have never been caught on that front, I though smiling timidly. It was good that I had natural curls – combing not required daily.

    I lock the door and rush to get my battered, old, secondhand car out of the parking lot. The smile had not vanished yet but one look at the flat tire wiped it off instantly. My temper flared. A vein in my temple was throbbing dangerously. I was surely going to get a brain hemorrhage shortly. All credit goes to my stubborn boyfriend. Fine, I accept I was no less.

    I exhaled twice but it did not help my nerves. Reached office somehow. Boss’s cabin was empty. Receptionist confirmed my worst fears – visitor had arrived and Boss had checked on my arrival status every five minutes in the past half an hour. Oh he is such a loser. God, he get salary of a Vice President to keep tab on his secretary. Where is the justice?

    My desk phone was ringing threateningly. I slumped on my chair. I was not prepared yet. And definitely not right now when my respected Boss would be fuming like a hot sizzler. Later. Phone rang again. Later, I told it loudly. It kept ringing stubbornly but I was no less. My Dad did not approve my boyfriend Deepak because he is a struggling writer (so what if he has been struggling for the past 5 years). When I moved out of their house he ensured that I do not get a decent job and a decent life. To top it all he made my innocent boyfriend promise that he will not see me till he gets well settled. And for God sake how well is well settled? I wanted to scream. Of course I did scream on him a lot but he is stubborn as well. Whether or not my Dad permitted but we were talking on my office phone, as personal mobiles were out of our pocket’s reach.

    Alright I quit! I pick up the phone and answer posing as my colleague Sarita.

    “This is Deepak. Is she in? Can you please ask Meera to call me back? Its urgent”. He was sounding worried.

    “Deepak its me. What is it?” I demand from him.

    “Why did you lie to me that you are Sarita and why don’t you answer your phone. This must be my twentieth call since morning.” He sounded relieved but mildly offended and that surprised me.

    “Forget about it for the moment. Some office problem. What is the urgent matter?” I demanded.

    “A publisher called.” He said.

    “And” I prompted. I cannot bear long pauses in such conversations.

    “He wants to publish my novel.” He said with a smiling face. I could hear happiness in his voice.

    “How much?” I asked, guarded.

    “One million dollars”.

    I never act so stupid but today I let myself cry loudly all over the phone, my work desk and the stupid crushed shirt without its last button.

    He begged me to say something. He was anxious.

    “Could you not come and see me to give this news?” I screamed in the phone. He only laughed like a maniac.

  14. kospina

    “$650? Are you sure? I thought my insurance was going to cover most of this?” I sputtered, struggling to form the words through novacane numbed lips. “Your insurance only pays 50%, hon. The nurse’s lips curved into a cherry-red lipstick smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Will you be paying by check or credit card?”

    I dug through my purse, searching for my checkbook through the jumble of my cell phone, two sets of keys, plastic packets of tissues and an apple I had forgotten was in there. My fingers finally brushed against the plastic cover of my checkbook and I pulled it out, only to find nothing but carbon receipts.

    I suppressed a sigh of exasperation as I threw the useless checkbook back into the purse and scrabbled through the jumble again for my wallet. “You do take Amex, right?” I said to the nurse, pulling the card out. She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Visa or Mastercard only.” I sighed aloud this time, shoving the Amex card back into its little plastic sleeve before pulling out my Visa card instead.

    If they gave out awards for bad days this one would have merited a gold medal. The day had started with a flat tire on the way to work, which I’d had to change myself in the rain because I didn’t have time to wait for the auto service. Once I’d gotten to work, soaking wet and with mud on my good suede jacket, the power had gone out. My computer had been left with the dreaded blue-screen-of-death and refused to cough up any of the proposals I needed. At lunch I accidentally broke a tooth biting into an olive pit. And now, here I was, dropping $650 on emergency dental work.

    The smug nurse handed me my receipt and wished me a saccharine goodbye. I stuffed the receipt in my purse, mumbled a half-hearted thank you and stalked out to the parking lot. South Florida’s signature humidity enveloped me as I stepped out of the air conditioning and walked to my car.

    As I stopped for a light I saw him, holding a card board sign. I was about to look away, but something about him caught my eye. I don’t know if it was the prosthetic leg, the military haircut, or the words on the sign “Need to feed my kids, ages 5 and 3. No drugs.” Or maybe it was just his expression, so uncomfortable, so desperate, yet proud at the same time. Without thinking I plucked my emergency $20 bill from the ash tray, snatched up my business card and handed them out the window. “Call me. I’ll help you find some kind of work.”

    The light turned. I pulled out onto the highway and drove towards my beachside condo with the rosy sunset in my rear view mirror. I sighed deeply. “Yeah,” I thought to myself. “It was kind of a wonderful day after all.”

  15. skdunning

    The Longest Drive
    by Shelton Keys Dunning

    I stood at the edge of the bridge contemplating the churning water below me. The wind was whipping passed my ears with alarming force, making me feel nauseous. “What are you waiting for?” Damien asked me.

    He had hijacked me that morning. He dragged me through the convalescent home where my mother lay drooling and forgotten. We watched my husband screw his secretary. He led me to my daughter’s elementary school so I could view her bullied victims. Now we were on the bridge that my little brother drove off of years ago. I tore my gaze away from the water and shot him the darkest look I could muster. “An explanation. Why me?”

    “Because unlike everyone else,” he paused, a grin of pure evil plastered across his face, “I believe that you have value.”

    I peered over the edge of the bridge again, dangerously close to yielding to the stranger’s foul suggestion. Give me strength, I prayed silently. “Yeah, sure. I believe that,” the sarcasm oozed from between my clenched teeth.

    “Just jump, Cassie,” he said with false sympathy. “You are forsaken.”

    “Go to hell, Damien,” I hissed. “I’ll not do your bidding.”

    He grabbed my neck and forced me back. I felt the weight of my heels drop off the edge of the bridge as I struggled to breathe. “It can all be over. Just jump,” he said.

    “No,” I choked.

    A cell phone rang from within the confines of the stranger’s jacket. He reluctantly pulled me back from the edge as the phone rang a second time and at the third ring, he released my neck. Finally, he removed the phone and handed it to me.

    I stared blankly at the phone that advertized a restricted number. It rang a fourth time. “Is this a joke?” I asked him suspiciously through the fifth ring.

    “Answer it,” he barked
    “It’s not my phone.”

    “It’s your call.”

    Finally, on the eighth ring I answered, “Hello?”

    “Cassandra Sellers, you are free to go,” a bright, ageless voice said through the line.

    “Do I know you?”

    “Better than Damien believed, yes. Go back to your car. This will be as if it never was.”

    I turned back to the stranger to find him gone, a vapor of sulfuric odors lingering in his stead. I cast one last look towards the churning waters and asked timidly, “What comes next?”

    There was no response.

    The closer I moved towards my car, the calmer I became. I sank into the Camry’s interior, inserted the key into the ignition, and found I was back in my driveway the moment before the stranger jumped in my car introducing himself as Damien. Glancing down at the passenger seat where I had tossed the devil’s phone, I spied a single white feather, glistening in the early morning shadows. “The Lord is my shepherd,” I whispered. The day was definitely brighter now. If I could defeat the devil, I could certainly handle rush hour traffic.

  16. chilo

    “Ugh! What else can go wrong?” I looked at the scrape by the side of my parked lemon lime green mustang. I knew I should not have parked near a U-turn zone. This is the worst day of my life. First, I get the test results back from my doctor showing how bad my HDL (or is it LDL?), cholesterol, and such and now this!
    I went to inspect the damage to my new vehicle when my phone went off, “Hello, yes…..oh yes! How are you Ruby? Yes…. I am pretty booked this week…. what? right now? Sure, I can pass by. See you in a little bit.”
    Ruby just called. Ruby, my one and only teenage daughter who lives with her mother. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I need to head over there right away. She sure brightened up my day. I have been feeling miserable for not keeping in touch. Things are starting to look up today.

  17. reginac7

    Caller: It’s my pleasure to tell you, Ms. Aren’t-you-glad I called?, that not only have we accepted your book for publication, we want to rush production to allow a nationwide distribution for the next World Conference on Science Fiction. At least 500,000 copies would be made available to both booksellers and publishers, not necessarily in that order.

    I know that we sent you a rejection letter, and I hope you won’t hold that against us and choose another publishing house. When your agent approached us again three days ago she showed us exactly why your book promises to be the next BIG thing in science fiction, an angle never before covered. It was that exact aspect that originally caused us to reject your book, as you know–but her analysis has convinced us how wrong we were! You must understand how cautious we have to be in this cutthroat business. Writers fall by the wayside in droves.

    Your novel suggests that we do not exist but are mere figments of our imagination, which in and of itself was an interesting concept. Our reluctance rested solely on your insistence that the main character knew this truth and as a consequence realized he had nothing to say, since whatever words he chose would be meaningless. His vow to therefore say nothing at all limited the scope of your plot, to our mind. Your agent has convinced us that less is more.

    We congratulate you! Could I get a quote?

    Me: So you really liked it?


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.