Short Stories & Flash Fiction
Comments 2

Everything In Its Own Time

She kept thinking about that infection she’d had a few months back, the one that had sent her sprinting to the bathroom every few minutes because the urge to pee just wouldn’t go away. It took two rounds of antibiotics and a small molehill of cranberry capsules before she kicked that little health snafu but now she could almost wish she hadn’t.

Bathrooms are cold in December. She hadn’t bothered switching on the heating with the living room log burner turning her home into a hothouse. If she didn’t have the touch of death for potted plants she might almost considered growing topical flowers in the kitchen, add a bit of colour to the magnolia paint she was too nervous to change. But knowing her she would probably buy the one exotic plant that would kill her, dramatically and painfully. Under no circumstances was she going to let her obituary read mauled to death by triffids.

She twitched her knees and tried to shift her butt into a more comfortable position. Perhaps she was dehydrated? When was the last time she drank a glass of water and did tea count? She was sure that there was something somewhere about tea not counting towards hydration, or was that an internet thing?

“Stupid tea.” she muttered, the pot she’d brewed earlier would be absolutely stewed by now and she’d only managed the one cup before the internet world had sucked her in. Common sense had told her that Web MD wasn’t a good idea, type in symptoms for diagnosis; enjoy the rest of your panicked day!

She’d been sure she needed to pee. She’d been halfway though one of her shows, distracting herself from the shopping bag stuffed into the desk drawer, and all the signs had been there. At least she assumed the signs were there, thinking about it, how did she ever know when she needed to pee? She knew it was a sort of… a kind of… it was a sensation of sorts, a sensation that didn’t seem keen to commit to a follow-through.

Staring at the slightly chipped tile by the shower she tried to relax, willing her muscles to loosen.

“Ten seconds, cap on, result pane up and a three minute wait. An extra minute if the result came through as negative just to be sure.” she whispered the instructions over to herself, finally feeling something give.

“Ten seconds, cap on, result pane up and a three minute wait. An extra minute if the result came through as negative just to be sure. Let it be negative, let it be negative.”

She clipped the cap back onto the stick and stuck it in the window sill.

“Oh god please let it be negative.” she begged. “Because hell knows how I’m going to explain otherwise.”

This entry was posted in: Short Stories & Flash Fiction


Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.


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