New short story

On a Wednesday, the old lady and I packed up and shipped off to Six Flags Great America, a place I only visit once a decade. Not on purpose, just happens that way.

Waiting in line for each ride, surrounded by tons of junior high and high school kids, we were innudated with warning signs. No loose fitting shoes, no one under this height, rar rar rar.

Then there's my favorite. The one that looks like a Weeble Wobble with a hole in it's stomach that's holding a packing peanut.

Do not ride if you are pregnant.

That got my creative juices flowing. Standing in the mix with all the little emo high school kids that don't look they're having any fun, I wondered if there in the thousands of people, someone would ride roller coaster after roller coaster to end an unwanted pregnancy.

After some thought and research, it's totally possible in the middle of all those G-forces to do damage to the placental wall and either terminate or complicate a pregnancy after five months.

So I got home and for the first time ever, I was able to write a short story in two sittings. It's 2,800 words of something I thought would be totally repulsive and nauseating, but instead came off as one of the saddest things I've ever written.

I'd post it here, but I think it has a chance of getting published somewhere. I'll keep everyone posted.

Until then, enjoy your summers and hit the amusement parks.