This one comes with a disclaimer–I don’t like it all that much, especially the ending. I’d like to say I ran out of time, but the truth is I ran out of steam. You’re probably wondering why I bother to post it. I like to think it has some salvageable merit. There’s at least one sentence in it that earned me some kudos. That’s what I like about the AW Flash Fiction regulars–they always find something nice to say. Perhaps I can edit it at some point but it is what it is for now.
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Zoe flipped The Anxiety Clinic’s brochure for the thousandth time, worried she’d missed some sort of disclaimer. What if she died during the surgery? What if she didn’t die but became a vegetable? What if she lost all ability to command her muscles, became trapped in a body that tethered her to the charity of others? Continue reading