Three Stories

By Mike Robertson

Looking for short, compelling reads that offer a little bit of everything? Three Stories is the short-fiction collection for you. Horror, drama, romance, humor, big decisions - this eclectic collection will take you on a journey through the lives of diverse characters, places and times.
The Diet - Karen and Brenda are twenty-something roommates with an appetite for junk food and a penchant for dieting shortcuts. When they discover a new diet clinic that promises to help them lose weight with a single pill, it seems too good to be true. The pill works, but Karen discovers that the true cost of taking the easy way out may be more than she was willing to pay.
Spillage - Bill is reaching a decision point in his life. While traveling and partying with his rock band is fun, college, a girlfriend and new responsibilities are pulling him away. Giving up music is difficult, but hardest of all is leaving behind his band’s singer, Angie. Bill knows her drug problems are only going to get worse, but walking away from a friend—much less someone who had the potential to be more than a friend—is harder than he could have imagined.
The Warm-Ups - Debbie’s best friend Lona is taller, prettier and cooler in almost every way. Debbie keeps her jealousy in check—most of the time—but resentments boil over in unexpected ways. When Debbie discovers a secret about Lona’s life, everything changes for good.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Robertson
• Release date: Jan 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311406590

Mike Robertson

Mike Robertson lives and writes in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. He has a day job working as a technical writer, instructional designer, and project manager. His other interests include tacos, musical instruments and their design, as well as ranting about "the culture."

Book preview

Three Stories

Published by ProtoSyncretic

Smashwords Edition

1520 NW 48th St.

Oklahoma City, OK

73118

protosyncretic.com

Copyright Mike Robertson, 2016

All rights reserved

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Table of Contents

The Diet

Karen and Brenda are twenty-something roommates with an appetite for junk food and a penchant for dieting shortcuts. When they discover a new diet clinic that promises to help them lose weight with a single pill, it seems too good to be true. The pill works, but Karen discovers that the true cost of taking the easy way out may be more than she was willing to pay.

Spillage

Bill is reaching a decision point in his life. While traveling and partying with his rock band is fun, college, a girlfriend and new responsibilities are pulling him away. Giving up music is difficult, but hardest of all is leaving behind his band’s singer, Angie. Bill knows her drug problems are only going to get worse, but walking away from a friend—much less someone who had the potential to be more than a friend—is harder than he could have imagined.

The Warm-Ups

Debbie’s best friend Lona is taller, prettier and cooler in almost every way. Debbie keeps her jealousy in check—most of the time—but resentments boil over in unexpected ways. When Debbie discovers a secret about Lona’s life, everything changes for good.

The Diet

Do you think I look fat? I looked up from my sandwich. Karen was squinting at me, the reflected sun turning her pupils into little pinprick-sized suns. There was a cracker crumb precariously glued to the corner of her mouth with a small dab of Diet Coke.

No, I said.

Karen put her sandwich down on her paper towel. She pulled up her shirt and pooched her belly between her hands and looked doubtful.

That’s totally just skin, I said. You just need to do some toning or something. She dropped her shirt and gave me a dirty look.

Whatever, she said. She suddenly wrapped her sandwich up and threw it in her basket, then got up and started heading for the car. Her junky old red Fiero was parked next to the rest stop bathrooms. I grabbed my stuff and jumped up. I took a couple of running steps up behind her, then sang ‘Hey, fat Karen fatty, fat fat fatty, hey, Karen fat fatty fat…’ in my most grating, annoying voice while I poked her in the back of the neck with my fingernail. By the time we got back to the car, she had loosened up a little bit and was trying to hit me in the head with a stick she had found lying on the grass. As we got to the black top, she threw the stick at me and sprinted for the car. I ran after her, getting to the car door just before she could lock me out. She punched me in the arm, I called her a bitch, and then she tore out of the lot, squealing her old, ragged, bald tires and spraying gravel.

As we raced past the eighteen wheelers and back out onto the highway, I pulled up my shirt and started squishing my own stomach around. The rose vine tattoo around my belly button stretched and shrank between my hands. Jesus, if you think you’re fat, look at this nasty blob.

Karen glanced over. Gross, she said, smiling a little.

I pulled my shirt down. You suck.

No, you suck.

Yeah, I don’t think so. We rode for a moment. So, do you want to go to Brownie’s with me?

Yeah, I guess, she said. Are they open on Saturday?

♦

When we got home, Karen went to work, and I dug out Dr. Brownie’s phone number to set up appointments. I called about five times, but I kept