A Minute | A (Super) Short Story

She needed a minute. Just one fucking minute.

To hold him, to breathe in the smell of his hair, to feel the thump of his heart against the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t fair. It would never be fair. There was nothing to be done. She’d exhausted all her options.

He made his choice.

He would marry the girl his parents wished. Return to England and live a life far from her, from this place, from where they fell in love.

First, she needed one more fucking minute.

To say goodbye.

© Shayne McClendon

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Valid Argument | A Short Story

“Why do you want to do this?”

To anyone else, Micah would appear annoyed, angry even.  Almost thirty years as best friends taught you a lot about a person’s tells.  Max knew he wasn’t angry.  He was afraid.

“You know why…”

“I don’t bloody know why!  Bringing her here could ruin everything.”  He turned and stared at the skyline of Manhattan.  “Knowing about our lifestyle on paper isn’t the same thing.”

“Here.”  Max handed him a glass of bourbon.  “Drink and let’s talk it through.  Best case scenarios, worst case scenarios.  We don’t do it unless we’re on the same page.”

Taking the glass, he shook his head.  “Like I don’t know you.”

Max grinned.  “I’ll attempt to talk you ‘round to my way of thinking.”  He set several plates of food on the counter.  “Eat.  You think better when you eat.”

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