Preparation. Flash Fiction.

I’m going in for another colonoscopy tomorrow to stretch out some scar tissue I have in my intestines. There won’t be a short story this Wednesday but I’ll be back on Friday. I’ve just started the dreaded prep, one glass down, 7 to go. Wish me luck!

___________________________________________________________

Greg stared at the lights on the ceiling. There was something magical about them, the way they twisted and turned around one another, the puffs of colours that spread about them. He felt himself getting drowsy, his eyes slowly opening and closing, he couldn’t stop it nor did he want to. He was warm and comfortable and above him the lights danced. Greg closed his eyes one final time and the light all froze in place. Slowly they moved closer to one another, joining together and getting larger, the large, single ball of light lit the entire room in a stark white light, slowly it moved towards Greg. The light touched his chest and began to sink through his skin, flowing into his body, after a few seconds the light was gone. Greg shifted slightly in his sleep, his skin started to glow, getting brighter and brighter until suddenly it stopped. The ball of light rose from his chest and moved towards the ceiling, the orbs separated out again, each one a kaleidoscope of colour, one more had been added to their ranks. The lights moved towards the window, each moving through the glass as though it wasn’t there.

Greg woke slowly, he was still tired, he hadn’t slept well the night before, his sleep filled with strange dreams and tossing and turning. Yawning he swung his legs out of bed, he stood, then stretched. He plodded into the bathroom and started brushing his teeth, he really didn’t feel great today, as he brushed he wondered if he was coming down with something. His throat felt slightly scratchy, his head felt muzzy and his thoughts felt slow. He considered calling off for the day, but there was work that needed to be done, he just had to push through it, that was all, and if he got everything done he could always just go home early.

He had his usual breakfast of toast and a large mug of coffee then grabbed his keys and left the house. As he put the keys in the ignition he paused, did he really want to go to work today? Sighing he started the engine and began to reverse out. The true answer was no, he didn’t want to go to work, but that wasn’t different from most days, he just had to stick it out for a few hours. He could do it. He pulled up at a red light, as he waited he made a plan, he’d go in, stay until lunch then head home and on the way back he’d pick up something nice. The light turned green, he started driving, someone blared their horn, Greg didn’t see the car before it hit him.

There was no pain, he knew that wasn’t a good sign but there was no fear either. He was vaguely aware that something had happened, but it was difficult to keep the thought still, it kept popping up and fading away. Things looked wrong, it looked like he was in his car, but everything outside was upside down and weirdly fractured, he couldn’t be driving like this? Could he? he released one final breath and then everything was gone.

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About Alan James Keogh

I am a 24 year old writer who somehow tricked U.C.D. into giving me not only a degree in English and Classical studies, but an Hons Masters in Creative Writing too. Visit my blog where I post short stories twice a week (Monday and Wednesday) and an installment of a serialised novel on Fridays. I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.
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