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Fiction: Mixed Emotions (175 words)

10 Nov

I should have been scared, I suppose.  The prospects weren’t good. Even if I recovered now, even if my some miracle of fate and god I made it through the surgery, then I was a walking, talking time bomb.  Every morning I woke up, there was a twenty-five percent chance that something in my brain would go ‘pop’ and I wouldn’t make it back to my bed that night. I should have been scared.

But I wasn’t.  I was–relieved. Everyone lives with the abstract thought that they could die at any moment.  There is a general idea and common advice to seize the day because it could be your last. But now, they were telling me exact odds. And that was–freeing.

I tried to keep my face a mask of attentiveness and concern as the doctor explained it all to me, but really I wanted to laugh.  From here on out, I couldn’t waste a day.   There was a twenty five percent chance it would be my last. I had so much to get done.

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Posted by on November 10, 2015 in Stories

 

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