Enjoy… and relax! You can go to Fiction365 for a fix of new fiction every day. For our inaugural post, we give you a recent story by Editor Benjamin Wachs, followed by a short list of other highlights.
“You’re the designated driver for my life,” she said.
“I … didn’t know that.”
We were sitting by the window watching rich people try to avoid making eye contact with panhandlers positioned on either end of the street. In between sips of coffee imported directly from a small farm in the lower Andes, Lisa handed me a small bottle of prescription pills.
“Hold on to it for me,” she said.
Lisa’s asked me for a lot of favors over the years. “Is this your …”
She nodded. “I’ve decided to stop taking it.”
I bit my lip.
“If I really go crazy, if something very bad happens, you’re the one I’ll listen to, to take them again. I promise. I don’t think it’ll happen, I really don’t want it to, but you’re the designated driver.”
I put the pills back down on the table, in the very middle between us. “I’m not sure I’m qualified.”
“Who else?” she asked. “Really.”
“Try a doctor.”
“They know my symptoms,” she said. “You know me.”
I looked outside the window. There was a strong breeze blowing, and everyone looked cold. Except the dogs getting walked. They always look thrilled to be here.
“There’s no one else I trust like you,” she said. “Not after the last few years.”
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