Life or Death
03/14/2023
***Disclaimer: This story was inspired by a prompt provided by Reedsy.com. Prompt is provided below. Visit their site https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/ to learn more.***
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Prompt: Write a story where a character has to decide whether to press the button or not.
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A bead of sweat runs down his temple as he weighs his options. One possible outcome was that he’d make it out alive; the other possible outcome didn’t seem so clear. Everything - the fate of humanity, the promise of his continued existence for the foreseeable future - hinged on this decision. Why was it so hard?
John wiped the sweat from his brow, hand slightly trembling as he clutched the steering wheel with both hands tightly. His knuckles turned white as he attempted to take a deep breath to steady himself. If he pushed the button, there was no going back. If he didn’t press the button, he would never know what could have been. Either way, the choice felt impossible.
“This is stupid,” John chuckled to himself, running a hand through the little bit of hair that remained on top of his thinning head. “What’s the worst that could happen? How would she even find out?”
John’s wife, Olga, was on some new juice cleanse, vegan diet health kick, which meant John was also on a diet. All the meat and dairy products in the fridge had been replaced with juiceable veggies and fruits, the pantry a barren wasteland of grains and nuts. How was a man supposed to get by? Of course, he wanted Olga to go on a diet if that’s what she wanted, but he didn’t sign up for this madness. John was so hungry.
He told Olga he was going to the grocery store for some more carrots, and almost as if his body switched to autopilot, he ended up mindlessly driving across town and turning at the glowing neon double-delta sign, its beckoning glow welcoming him to a place he thought he’d never see again, a place he hadn’t been in quite some time. It looked like they had even remodeled since the last time John was here.
If she finds out, she’ll kill me for sure, John thought to himself, But at least I won’t be hungry. Making up his mind, consequences be damned, he rolled down his car window and leaned forward to push the bright red button. He took a moment to contemplate what he had done, unsure of himself. Somehow John was sure Olga already knew of his forbidden act. Or that could just be what guilt felt like.
“Just this once,” John promised himself, making a vow to never speak of it and to be diligent to the diet from that day forward. That is, of course, if he lived to tell the tale.
Remembering he had a ten dollar bill in his wallet, John’s hope for his life grew. Knowing his wife wouldn’t be able to trace the cash back to him or this place, he sighed in relief. He smiled as he heard the familiar static echo of the voice coming out of the menu’s speaker:
“Hi, welcome to Sonic. My name is Anna and I’ll be your server today. What can I get started for you?”
“Hi Anna,” John said with newfound confidence. “Can I get a SuperSONIC Bacon Double Cheeseburger with a large order of onion rings and a Route 44 Cherry Limeade?”
“Of course, sir.”
There was a short pause as Anna rang up John’s order. It was long enough for John to consider that if this was his last chance to visit his favorite fast food joint, possibly forever, that he needed to go big or go home.
“Um…” John wavered. “Sorry, could I also add some mozzarella sticks to that? Oh, and some Cinnabon Cinnasnacks? And a large Reese’s Peanut Butter Blast? And…uh…that should be it.”
Anna assured John it was no problem and added the last minute items.
“Does everything look good on the screen sir?” Anna asked, prompting John to review his order on the screen in front of him.
“It looks wonderful. Thank you so much.” John could have cried. He was so happy.
As Anna gave John the total and wished him a good day, John let out a satisfied sigh of relief. He didn’t even care that he wouldn’t be able to eat everything he ordered. He pondered a moment about what it must feel like to be on death row, and how hard it must be to decide on a last meal. John thought that it probably felt similar to his situation.
When the car hop brought John his food, he shamelessly devoured his super-sized usual, savoring every bite, every sip of his Route 44 drink, knowing this was the last time he might get to enjoy this for the rest of his life. After tossing the evidence into the trash can on the way out of the parking lot, John rolled the windows down and hit the highway, on his way to the grocery store for some carrots.
THE END