"who are you?"
he looked up from his blt sandwich and looked at me like i was a total creep.
"you really are an idiot."
we were currently eating in the hospital cafeteria, consuming our lunch.
"no, i mean, i don't know anything about you."
"good."
i sighed.
"can i ask you some questions?"
"are we really playing twenty questions right now?"
"in a way."
he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coke.
"do u have any hobbies or sports you play?"
"i used to play football, wide receiver. and this may seem weird but i collect quarters."
"not weird at all. okay, next question, how long have you been staying in the hospital?"
"2 years."
i paused for a moment before asking my next question
"why are you in the hospital exactly?"
"because i'm sick."
"i know that, but what illness, you look perfectly fine."
"well i'm not fine."
"why?"
"you idiot, i just said because i'm sick."
"okay fine." i stopped pressing the subject.
we ate in silence for the rest of our lunch.
YOU ARE READING
Eleven
Short Storywe met on a rooftop on the 11th day of the 11th month of the 11th hour. all because i had a seizure. it was weird because i hadn't had one in eight months. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was meant to be fatal. seeing as though we met at a hospital. ...
