Swap My Symptoms – Microfiction Short Story

Swap My Symptoms 

The room ebbs and flows with a vibrating energy that sends shivers up and down each of the small workforce’s backs. Donna turns with a motion that resembles less of a fluid movement and more of a disjointed parody of animated glory. Steve looks across at her and fells the blood quickly run from his face. He convulses forward without warning as he feels the meagre breakfast he had just a few short hours ago surge upward, and in a desperate panic he slaps his hand against his mouth, only for it to explode from either side, spraying Duncan and Sam who sit beside him equally.

He sits silently, staring forward with wide eyes as the blood that escaped his face moments before rushes back, this time flushing his cheeks with their warmth.

“W-W-WHAT THE FUCK!” Duncan screams, while Sam desperately cups his hands in front of him as he tries to catch his own vomit, but instead it spills from his hands and empties onto the desk in grotesque fashion while Donna watches like a statue.

Duncan slaps Steve across the back of the head with careless intent. “WHAT THA FUCK BRO!” he cries loudly.

As his vomit ridden lips tremble, he raised a shaking hand towards Donna.

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