Ficly

Bad News

“Let me just tell you,” she said, “When you say bad news I think, the roof is on fire, the dog has gone blind, the repo man has come by to take the car, the police are looking for aliases. This is not bad news. I will be over in twenty minutes.”

The phone went dead and I slumped into the wall. I am bleeding to death and this is not bad news.

This story has no comments.