One Word, One Story

“Are you okay?”

Bill didn’t dare say. There was too much work hanging on this.

The bare, black door stood between him and his future. 40 minutes from now, a hundred people could have work enough to last a decade. He could already see their smiles and their joy. He could already feel their relief.

Bill clutched his shoulder and winced, shaking out his arm as his head swam and his chest tightened. He raised his hand to knock. He was so close. So close.

“I’m fine,” he spat, striking his knuckle to the door.

Just 40 minutes,…