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Weekly Contest #302
Everyone stared as Lorraine Ravensworth burst into the homeless day program with her red lips wide open and tongue protruding. She couldn’t control her tongue to form words, but her panicked eyes said it all, and Sarah, the program social worker, called 911. This inhumane tardive dyskinesia side effect of old-school antipsychotics is hard enough to handle in the privacy of a home, but it’s torture if you live on the streets. That’s one more reason Lorraine took advantage of the gaps created by deinstitutionalization to evade mental health tr...
Weekly Contest #299
The dated landline phone’s insistent blinking red light greeted Sarah as she opened her tiny office in the back of the homeless shelter. She sighed, took a sip of coffee from her travel mug, and hit play. “Hey Sarah, it’s Amy from Bridgeport Hospital. The police brought Deedee in last night.” Sarah dropped her bag on the desk and called the hospital emergency department. “Hi Amy, what happened? How is she?” “Same old. She’s looking pretty rough but refusing rehab. She’s medically ready for discharge, but,” Amy continued in a singsong tone, “...
Weekly Contest #287
Just Ed by Kimberly A Fader Ed Nelson’s given name was John, like his father, John Edward Nelson, but everyone had always just called him Ed. His brother, Jonathan Edward Nelson, was born two years after Ed but caught up quickly and, in no time, was taller and stronger. People called Jonathan “a born athlete,” bound to join their father on the Whalers football “Wall of Fame” outside the New London High School gym. Ed’s father christened Jonathan “Junior,”, although technically, rightfully, that honor had belonged to Ed. Ed figured his fat...
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