Final Print

This week’s six-sentence story, based on the word TERM, was supposed to be a lightheaded one. That said, I have been reading The Stand, and so again, we have gone dark. This week we meet Joe, who violated the terms in conditions with dire consequences.

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Joe was a healthy 32 year old man in the prime of his life, with a great job, a beautiful home, a wonderful wife, two amazing children, and less than a week to live.

The worst part was, that it could have gone on like this for years, him living the perfect life, but with an act of hubris he had ruined it all.

In the early days, the deal he had made weighed heavy on his mind, making him question his every decision, was this within the bounds of the agreement, would that violate a term or condition?

Eleven years later he had become sloppy, time dulling the terror he had felt in the circle of mushrooms as he was told what fate would befall him if he was ever to renege on the contract he himself had negotiated.

With distance, he started to doubt that it had happened at all, a vivid hallucination brought on by the drugs to treat an illness he never had, the last damning consequence of what the Doctor’s called a misdiagnoses of the highest order.

He had held onto that foolish belief until this very morning, when he looked out upon his garden of death, a coffee in had as he surveyed the leafless trees, wilted flowers, yellowed grass, and the only thing left alive was a circle of mushrooms, mocking his arrogance, letting him know that his hour had come round at last.

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Part of the continuing saga, of why we don’t mess with the Fae.