FICTION
Death Squirrel: A Gay Horror Story
What if Death gave you a choice?
All I got was a sprained wrist. Adam, meanwhile, was still in the operating room with a worryingly large number of doctors.
I don’t know how long they were in there, but it was long enough for me to get examined, bandaged, and discharged. Too long.
After an hour of fidgeting in the waiting room, I saw one of the doctors approach, his hands behind his back. He said things were still “touch and go,” which seemed like a vague answer. What did that even mean?
It felt like I needed a number. One through ten. Put a numerical value on how likely my boyfriend would die because I stupidly crashed the car while avoiding a squirrel.
God, this was all my fault. Why did I have to swerve?
I shook away the thought. Adam would want me to be optimistic.
The doctor’s expression was blank, so I couldn’t infer any more information from him. His big announcement basically came down to “Wait and see.”
I asked him when I’d be able to see Adam. He nodded gravely and then left without answering.
I felt numb. I knew it wasn’t an aftereffect of the crash. It was shock, an emotional numbness. Better to block out all…
