The report was no sugar letter. Its message was clear; devoid of any chocolate coating. The shadowy shape on the sonar was a tumour. It was wrapped around the main artery in William’s stomach making effective surgical removal difficult.
“I’ll remove as much of it as possible,” Dr McDonald said, “the piece left behind should shrivel up and disappear.”
He looked at the parents sitting across from him, their faces white and troubled. “The piece I remove will be biopsied.”
“I’ll donate my blood if it’s ever needed. We are a match.” It was all he had to offer.
Written for Charli Mills’ 99-word flash fiction challenge.
February 13, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes a sugar report. Use its original meaning of a letter from a sweetheart to a soldier, or invent a new use for it. Go where the prompt leads!
You can join in here: https://carrotranch.com/2020/02/14/february-15-flash-fiction-challeng/