Microfiction story

I originally wrote this story for a micro fiction contest. Wondering what other writers would think about it. Any feedback is appreciated! Thank you!

The Overdose

I’ve been sober for two months, five days, twelve hours, and fifty three minutes.
The syringe sat on the dashboard, taunting me. A crumbled post-it where my sponsor’s phone number was scribbled lay beside it. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel while I waited for him to answer my call. Shit, straight to voicemail. Waves of anxiety washed over me, each swell stronger than the last, pulling me deeper into its icy embrace.
My thoughts flickered to my wife. I had left her upstairs, angelic in the soft glow of moonlight. She had stayed when everyone had deserted me, fearlessly joining in the fight to pull me back from the demons that crippled me. We had won, both bruised and battered, but triumphant nonetheless.
She surprised me tonight. Her face aglow with happiness, barely able to contain her excitement, as she placed my hand on her belly. Me, a father? I had managed a smile and a kiss, but couldn’t rid myself of the instant dread lingering in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t told her I’d lost my job, the one she had tirelessly helped me find.
Loser. Coward. Worthless. The words endlessly buzzed around my head like an annoying mosquito. Unable to sleep, I had only meant to go for a drive to clear my head. Somehow I ended up in that familiar dark alley.
I needed to quiet the voices in my head. One hit shouldn’t hurt. I was strong enough to beat it once, I could beat it again. She would never know.
Trembling fingers gripped the syringe. Trepidation turned to eagerness; my body had not forgotten. Without a second hesitation, I injected my kryptonite.
Ah, the release of sweet oblivion.
Tomorrow I’d do better.

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                                    The Overdose

  I’ve been sober for two months, five days, twelve hours, and fifty three minutes. 
  The syringe sat on the dashboard, taunting me. A crumbled post-it where my sponsor’s phone number was scribbled lay beside it. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel while I waited for him to answer my call. Shit, straight to voicemail. Waves of anxiety washed over me, each swell stronger than the last, pulling me deeper into its icy embrace. 
  My thoughts flicker to my wife. I had left her upstairs, angelic in the soft glow of moonlight. She had stayed when everyone had deserted me, fearlessly joining in the fight to pull me back from the demons that crippled me. We had won, both bruised and battered, but triumphant nonetheless.
  She surprised me tonight. Her face aglow with happiness, barely able to contain her excitement, as she placed my hand on her belly. Me, a father? I had managed a smile and a kiss, but couldn’t rid myself of the instant dread lingering in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t told her I’d lost my job, the one she had tirelessly helped me find.
  Loser. Coward. Worthless. The words endlessly buzzed around my head like an annoying mosquito. Unable to sleep, I had only meant to go for a drive to clear my head. Somehow I ended up in that familiar dark alley.
   I needed to quiet the voices in my head. One hit shouldn’t hurt. I was strong enough to beat it once, I could beat it again. She would never know. 
  Trembling fingers gripped the syringe. Trepidation turned to eagerness; my body had not forgotten.  Without a second hesitation, I injected my kryptonite.
 Ah, the release of sweet oblivion.
 Tomorrow I’d do better.

I really enjoyed reading it!

I think it could be formatted a bit differently, though.

But it’s concise and engaging and, overall, I think you did a great job!

Thanks for sharing, Andrea! :))

Happy writing! :sunny:

Thanks for the critique! Could you elaborate on the formatting though? What could I do differently?

Of course! Perhaps, you could create more paragraphs? Also, I think you could emphasize certain words using italic font.

For example: “Shit. Straight to voicemail.”

For example: “Me? A father?

Also, for dramatic effect, I think you could make it repeat “tomorrow”.

For example: “Tomorrow I’d do better. Tomorrow.”

:))

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If you take the tabs out of the paragraphs you won’t get the long scroll. That tells markdown it’s a block quote or preformatted text you don’t want the parser to turn into paragraphs. like other text

Thank you! This was my first time posting and I’m still trying to get the hang of this website! I was getting very frustrated, so thanks for the helpful advice! I will try to fix it!

I like that

Beautifully powerful.

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Thank you!