It’s that time again. It’s time to look at another writing contest loser. This one was entered in a contest sponsored by The Failing Writers Podcast. The theme was “failing.” The short story had to be under 500 words. It had to contain the phrase “Sorry, I haven’t got time.” I thought of a few story ideas, but this was the one I ultimately wrote.
Failing Romantically
As I walked in the front door, I knew that it had been another first date that would not result in any subsequent dates. Even if he was interested in making it something more, it had gone worse than I’d expected, and my expectations had been pretty low.
My phone rang before I had time to close the door. Knowing it was my mom, likely spying from across the street to see when I came in the door, I answered it.
“Hi Mom.”
“So Laura. How’d it go?”
“Not so great.”
“So no second date?”
“No second date. That’s for sure.”
“That’s too bad. You really shouldn’t rule guys out so quickly.”
“Sorry, I haven’t got time to waste on relationships that aren’t going anywhere.”
“That’s for sure.”
My mom’s words stung more than I’d like to admit. Despite being a 28-year-old with a thriving career, I’d never measure up to my mom’s expectations because I had failed to settle down and provide her with grandchildren.
“Well, in that case, I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye, Laura.”
She was gone before I could respond.
The Next Day
The next morning, I woke up to a horrible smell and a banging on the front door. Assuming it was last night’s date trying to follow up with me, I jumped out of bed, threw on a long sweatshirt, and jerked open the door only to realize the smell outside was worse than the one inside.
“Oh gross. What’s that smell?”
“I just moved in next door a few days ago,” the man, who was not my date, explained. “I thought I should let you know, my septic tank is backed up. Um, anyway it’s kind of leaking onto your yard. I have someone coming in on Monday to fix it, but…”
He looked to be about my age and was quite attractive, probably a little too attractive. For a moment, the thought flashed through my mind that this would make a great story if he happened to be the answer to my mom’s prayers for grandchildren. The thought was quickly shot down when I glanced down at his left hand and saw a wedding ring.
Half an hour later, I was standing on my parent’s front porch. Even from there, the sewage smell was evident, although not nearly as overwhelming as it was across the street.
“So Laura,” my mom said, opening the door. “Who was that guy I saw you talking to a few minutes ago?”
“Mom, he’s married.”
“That’s really too bad. You sure it won’t work out with the guy from last night?”
“One hund-red per-cent,” I said, drawing out the syllables.
“If you’re sure.”
I sighed. This wasn’t a topic my mom was likely to drop anytime soon. She was determined to get me married off with children soon to follow.
My Thoughts On Contest Loser
I knew that I was taking a bit of a chance entering this story. They were looking for stories to read on the podcast. I’m not sure that this translates well to a podcast. Still, it was fun writing it. I’m beginning to realize how hard it is to tell a full story in a limited number of words. I’m sure there are people who can relate to this writing contest loser.
