This was written for as a piece of 500-word flash fiction, and it's actually 500 words long. However it's probably more of a one-act play than a short story.
– Hello?
– Hi, it’s me.
– Oh, hi, how are you? How are you doing?
– Well, I’m sitting up here. Both legs broken, an arm and a couple of ribs. I’m able to phone you at least with the one remaining arm.
– How long do you think you’ll be kept in for?
– Four or five days, depending...
– It’s good to hear your voice at least.
– It was the least I could do in the circumstances... they say you saved my life.
– That might be putting it a bit strongly.
– The witnesses said you pulled me from the car just before the petrol tank exploded... you came back for me, they said. I don’t remember much about it myself.
– I can understand that. Actually, I wasn’t far away.
– Other side of the street. Anyway, far enough... thank you.
– Really, it was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.
– Would they? In the circumstances?
– Of course. You would, I’m sure.
– I wouldn’t have had the strength to get you out.
– You know what I mean. Anyway, it was nothing.
– I’m trying to thank you. Thanks to your bravery, I’m still alive. Why can’t you just accept that?
– I’m just saying I’m not that brave.
– For goodness’ sake, just accept it! Here we go again.
– Please don’t get angry. It can’t be good for you.
– Don’t treat me like that.
– What?
– Like I was a child.
– I’m sure this isn’t helping. You’re supposed to be resting.
– And whose fault is that?
– Mine, I accept that. It was before. It’s all my fault.
– No it’s NOT all your fault.
– Sorry, I thought you said it was.
– Look, I’m finding it difficult here...
– Perhaps...
– Simon... couldn’t we just?
– This isn’t the moment, Louise.
– Simon, why are you being like this? Can’t we talk, at least?
– Would it do any good? Talking? That’s what we were doing, wasn’t it?
– I thought we were having a conversation. Then you just got out.
– I felt it was over.
– But I was still talking as you got out.
– I wasn’t talking about the conversation.
– So YOU decided you’d had enough, and YOU decided you’d just get out –
– Louise, please don’t get angry again, this is where we –
– Please don’t patronise me, Simon. In the circumstances, I had every right to be angry.
– Probably. But please try to rest now. Being angry won’t help you get better.
– Do you accept I was right to be angry? When you told me you were leaving?
– Probably, but –
– But what?
– Louise, I’m not the reason you’re where you’re in hospital. I wasn’t in the car.
– Of course not. It was nothing to do with you at all, despite the fact you’d just said you were leaving. I drove off. I should have been looking. Seen the lorry. You’ve been desperate to say that all along, haven’t you?
– No I haven’t, Louise.
– You’re probably regretting pulling me out of the car, aren’t you?
– That’s not true, Louise.
– I don’t believe you.
– Louise... Louise...?
(Phone goes dead.)
– Hello?
– Hi, it’s me.
– Oh, hi, how are you? How are you doing?
– Well, I’m sitting up here. Both legs broken, an arm and a couple of ribs. I’m able to phone you at least with the one remaining arm.
– How long do you think you’ll be kept in for?
– Four or five days, depending...
– It’s good to hear your voice at least.
– It was the least I could do in the circumstances... they say you saved my life.
– That might be putting it a bit strongly.
– The witnesses said you pulled me from the car just before the petrol tank exploded... you came back for me, they said. I don’t remember much about it myself.
– I can understand that. Actually, I wasn’t far away.
– Other side of the street. Anyway, far enough... thank you.
– Really, it was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.
– Would they? In the circumstances?
– Of course. You would, I’m sure.
– I wouldn’t have had the strength to get you out.
– You know what I mean. Anyway, it was nothing.
– I’m trying to thank you. Thanks to your bravery, I’m still alive. Why can’t you just accept that?
– I’m just saying I’m not that brave.
– For goodness’ sake, just accept it! Here we go again.
– Please don’t get angry. It can’t be good for you.
– Don’t treat me like that.
– What?
– Like I was a child.
– I’m sure this isn’t helping. You’re supposed to be resting.
– And whose fault is that?
– Mine, I accept that. It was before. It’s all my fault.
– No it’s NOT all your fault.
– Sorry, I thought you said it was.
– Look, I’m finding it difficult here...
– Perhaps...
– Simon... couldn’t we just?
– This isn’t the moment, Louise.
– Simon, why are you being like this? Can’t we talk, at least?
– Would it do any good? Talking? That’s what we were doing, wasn’t it?
– I thought we were having a conversation. Then you just got out.
– I felt it was over.
– But I was still talking as you got out.
– I wasn’t talking about the conversation.
– So YOU decided you’d had enough, and YOU decided you’d just get out –
– Louise, please don’t get angry again, this is where we –
– Please don’t patronise me, Simon. In the circumstances, I had every right to be angry.
– Probably. But please try to rest now. Being angry won’t help you get better.
– Do you accept I was right to be angry? When you told me you were leaving?
– Probably, but –
– But what?
– Louise, I’m not the reason you’re where you’re in hospital. I wasn’t in the car.
– Of course not. It was nothing to do with you at all, despite the fact you’d just said you were leaving. I drove off. I should have been looking. Seen the lorry. You’ve been desperate to say that all along, haven’t you?
– No I haven’t, Louise.
– You’re probably regretting pulling me out of the car, aren’t you?
– That’s not true, Louise.
– I don’t believe you.
– Louise... Louise...?
(Phone goes dead.)
