The flip of a coin: win or lose. Three dilemmas to solve. Stay in the countryside or move to the city? She relocated. Stop in or go out? She went out. Coffee shop or wine bar? She found a coffee shop and met the person who would end her life.
Kathryn Evans was born in Wales, raised in Scotland, has an Irish grandfather, and lives in Plymouth, England. She studied genetics to PhD level. Her main passion is rock/indie music.
Some decisions are hard. Choosing the right car—the one with the perfect balance of comfort, capacity, and fuel economy—was tricky. Finding the right insurance was difficult, too.
But the final decision had been easy, Maria mused, as she swerved to avoid the child and flew off the overpass.
Philipp M. Selman is a graphic artist, musician, historical martial artist, and professional copywriter. His work has been published in Fifty Word Stories, and his art, music, and writing can be found at pmselman.com
It is difficult.
Sitting next to one man, but looking across the room at the one who lives in your heart.
Oh, that is kind of difficult.
Some mistakes can’t be undone, you know.
So it seems. Why tell me this now?
Because I’m about to leave you.
Sakinah hails from Malaysia but has lived in a bunch of other countries including the U.S. After 10 years in the oil and gas industry, she’s venturing out to explore natural healing, writing, and life beyond the corporate jungle. She can be reached at facebook.com/sakinah.alhabshi
“I’m not going in there.”
The wind whistled through the looming trees at the forest’s edge.
“You’re just being paranoid,” scoffed Meltun.
Eadin protested: “No…”
“Then come on; follow me!” Melton plunged in. He never reemerged.
Eadin wondered, later, how much longer his story might have been if he’d followed.
This story is based on a title suggested by @TrueAntitonic
“Why so glum?” my old buddy asked.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” I said.
“You don’t seem too happy about it,” he said.
I just shrugged.
“C’mon,” he said, “pack a bag. We’ll hop a Greyhound and spend a few days in Vegas.”
Now I have to live with the consequences.
Alex Markovich started writing fiction late in life. He’s 76. He also wrote You Promised.