Some writer friends got together and wrote an anthology of stories inspired by everyone's favorite snarling political wildebeest, Dick Cheney:
It is available in a nifty print-on-demand copy, which I bought, for $9.99 or on Kindle (link at end of post)
On their blog promoting the book, they asked for 250 word contributions, and I wrote this one on the fly.
A World of Shit
The lawyer showed the lead nurse the writ. “The living will is contested. The feeding tube stays in. And the morphine drip stays out.”
“He’s in nothing but pain. On the edge of consciousness,” she said.
“The family is concerned that the drip could be construed as assisted suicide. On religious grounds, it stays out.”
She nodded, and the lawyer left.
The old man was little but a bag of wrinkles and tubes, a mottled gray octopus with a strip of iodine down his chest from the heart transplant.
A suit with sunglasses and an earpiece sat by the door. Many people hated this man, and he needed protection.
It would be kinder to let someone in with a gun or a knife. Kineesha wished she was stronger, someone who could forget to erase the “Do Not Resuscitate” notation at the foot of the bed. But his daughter’s wishes would be satisfied. Kineesha wiped the board clean, and taped the lawyer’s writ next to it. She added back the demerol, but thinking of her unemployed brother back from Iraq, and his nifty new arm, neglected to notate the laxative that would alleviate the opiate’s constipating effects.
She leaned in and whispered. “I know you can’t hear me over the millions who suffered in your name. Your daughter wants you suffering to the last second, but you’re gonna drown in your own shit because of me.”
© 2011 Thomas Pluck
Monday, August 29, 2011
disclaimers of legal bull shitte
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