Day 98 – Confession – Short Story

She said the words I knew I didn’t want her to say, for six long years I’ve managed to avoid any issues, avoid any problems, but tonight, of all nights she drops the words I never wanted to hear, but knew one day would come.

“I’m in love with your sister!” She says quickly, giving me that awkward, mixed with a little bit of curious, topped off with a shit load of innocence look she gets when she doesn’t know what is going to take place once she finishes what she has to say.

“Now? You want to fucking do this now?” I say back, honestly, this was probably the best time in the world to bring it up, but I wasn’t going to sit back and just let it take place.

“I need to get it off my chest, Stu, you have to understand, I can’t hide it any longer, I can’t live with myself without being honest.”

“I know, everyone does, we’ve always known it, shit, Carol knows it. You two have just been so hell bent on lying to yourselves, and everyone else, that you hide your feelings away, because you think its wrong, but it’s not, its just the fucked up system this world has made you believe. But, honestly, can it wait? Just until we deal with this shit first.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad? Its not like we’re dating or anything, we’re mates, always have been, always will be,” I say as I place a hand on hers, she smiles, and blushes a little as well.

“So, you think I should tell her?”

“Wrong time, remember?”

“I know, but is it? Shouldn’t this be the perfect time? Shouldn’t this be the time when life is reevaluated and we make the changes that need to, no, the changes that must be made?” She gets so cute when she gets worked up like this, I can tell by the way she’s looking at me, she knows what I’m thinking, the punch she deliverers confirms that. “Get your head out of the gutter!” She says.

“It is, just lay off, anyway, isn’t now the…” She hits me again.

“Don’t be a smart arse Stu, it’s not your strongest quality, just concentrate on how the fuck we’re going to get the hell out of here.”

“I am, that’s why I keep telling you can we do this later, otherwise there’ll be no later,” I say, as I look back out through the windscreen, and tighten my grip on the steering wheel, before us stagger hundreds, and when I say hundreds, I mean hundreds, of mindless, blank, rotten, soulless corpses. Most of them are standing silently, waiting, while others shuffle about, aimlessly, bumping into some of the others, which is no surprise considering how many have slowly worked their way around the car since we first stopped to make out. Okay, yeah, I guess I missed that part, we’re REALLY good friends, who happen to sleep together every now and then, by sleep, I mean fuck. Anyway, when we finally came to our orgasmic end we noticed the small field had become a bit over crowded, and they just kept coming. Starting the engine would send them into a rage, and we didn’t need that, trying to make a run for it, wouldn’t work out that good for us either, so, we had to think of another way, and that’s when she started going on about my sister.

“Are you sure starting the car is as dangerous as you think?”

“Have you seen what….” I didn’t have a chance to finish my sentence as her phone came loudly to life, and with it, so did our friends out in the field, turning their heads towards the car, and all I could hear, was the sound of a thousand hisses as they move towards us, I looked at her, her face was pale, her eyes wide, I quickly turn the key in the engine as they hit the car like a freight train…



25 Replies to “Day 98 – Confession – Short Story”

  1. The Long Good Friday was featured in the Dublin Film Festival in 1980, about a year before its commercial release. Helen Mirren turned up to present it. Myself and a friend had already sat through a four hour Swedish bore-athon earlier, so we’d nipped out between movies for a sandwich and a pint in the pub next door. When we got back the cinema was jammed for the feature and Helen Mirren, who had just introduced, was now waiting patiently for the final stragglers to find their seats. Enter us two clowns and, of course, the only two seats are in the middle of the fourth row. So we do the ‘scuse me, ‘scuse me shuffle and that’s when it happens. Fuckin’ digital watches with those crazy alarm tunes, ‘Tie a Yellow (fuckin’) Ribbon’ blasts out in the darkened silence. Helen Mirren laughed, but she was almost drowned out by the shorus of hissing.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Yup, I’ve been there. But I don’t think the story finds its own ending; I believe it’s the writer’s innate instinct, honed by experience, humour and reading, that finds the ending.


      2. I agree, although, I also like to think that the characters I create, sometimes, live in a little world of their own, and I’m just documenting their lives. I’ve written something along those lines that I’m throwing on the site in October, it’s a blend of all things horror, with that reality bending idea of documenting life in a story that is alive.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. No, can’t say that I have, but I might have to have a look. I like the idea of losing reality within the story and the story within reality, it’s s concept that since starting this blog has really taken on a life of its own….. Pun intended 👍

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Your challenge is staggering, not for the effort of writing a story a day for 365 days but for you, the writer, to match the standards that effort sets for you. I’ve read all of O’Brien’s books but more than 30 years ago. He was a satirist. The Dalkey Archive or The Third Policeman might be good starts. At Swim Two Birds is anarchic.


      5. I’ll defiantly have a look, I picked up a couple of books the other day when I was out and about, nothing that I’ve heard of before, writers that I quickly googled and was surprised I knew some of their other work, so when I’m free, I’ll drop one of his books into the list.

        Liked by 1 person

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