300 Word Flash Fiction
Leah glances anxiously around the waiting room. Everyone looks so calm. She can’t imagine why, as you generally end up leaving with something worse than what you went in with.
Taking ticket number 10 from the dispenser, Leah sits next to an elderly lady who looks up from her knitting and smiles warmly. Leah chooses to ignore the gesture, dismissing her as an old fool.
Opposite is a little boy and a woman she assumes to be his mother. The boy has a rash on his arm, and Leah is glad she didn’t sit near him in case it could be catching.
The only other occupant is a man of about her own age. Unkempt, with head lolling, he appears to have passed out drunk, and Leah has no time for his self induced predicament.
After a while a buzzer sounds and an electronic announcement requests “Ticket number 7 to see Mr Peters in Room 1’.
The woman opposite leads the small boy to the door before giving him a big hug and sending him through alone.
“Be brave” she calls to him before turning away. “I’ll see you soon.”
The old woman’s number is called next. She packs her knitting unhurriedly before rising and also shuffling to the door of Mr Peters. Leah rolls her eyes impatiently.
“Number 9 to see Mr Dante in Room 2.”
The drunk man doesn’t move and Leah’s tolerance runs out. Making a snap decision, she swaps tickets with him. What difference can it make?
“Hey, that’s my ticket! He shouts, eyes suddenly open and accusing.
Leah doesn’t care “Oh go to hell” she mutters as she opens the door to Room 2, not hearing his reply.
“I was” he smirks, picking up Leah’s old ticket “but thanks for taking my place.”
If you enjoyed this, you might light to try Final Call for Flight 175
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