bookblather (
bookblather) wrote in
rainbowfic2012-11-08 04:06 pm
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Liver 6, Chartreuse 10: The Family Curse
Author: Kat
Title: The Family Curse
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Liver 6 (chest), chartreuse 10 (Le pastis, c'est comme les seins. Un c'est pas assez et trois c'est trop. / Pastis is like breasts. One is not enough and three is too many.) with subluxate's paint-by-numbers (Someone finds a lump).
Supplies and Materials: Canvas (my main cast would be in their teens at best), seed beads, miniature, modeling clay (crisis), pastels (luck) (nothing said it had to be good luck).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG.
Summary: "I'm afraid the lump is malignant."
Warnings: Cancer.
Notes: I'm still writing! I swear! I just had to swap out my NaNo story at the last minute and am scrambling to catch up. More stories coming soon.
"I'm afraid the lump is malignant," said the doctor. Lynne sagged in her chair.
She'd known it was. She'd hoped it wasn't but she'd known it was. Why, after all, should she have escaped the family curse? Her mother lost a breast to it. Her grandmother had died of it. Her sister showed no signs of it but had twice-yearly mammograms, just in case.
And now Lynne had it.
"Breast cancer," she said, and closed her eyes. What was she going to tell her family? "What do I do?"
The doctor had no answer for her.
She'd known he wouldn't.
Title: The Family Curse
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Liver 6 (chest), chartreuse 10 (Le pastis, c'est comme les seins. Un c'est pas assez et trois c'est trop. / Pastis is like breasts. One is not enough and three is too many.) with subluxate's paint-by-numbers (Someone finds a lump).
Supplies and Materials: Canvas (my main cast would be in their teens at best), seed beads, miniature, modeling clay (crisis), pastels (luck) (nothing said it had to be good luck).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG.
Summary: "I'm afraid the lump is malignant."
Warnings: Cancer.
Notes: I'm still writing! I swear! I just had to swap out my NaNo story at the last minute and am scrambling to catch up. More stories coming soon.
"I'm afraid the lump is malignant," said the doctor. Lynne sagged in her chair.
She'd known it was. She'd hoped it wasn't but she'd known it was. Why, after all, should she have escaped the family curse? Her mother lost a breast to it. Her grandmother had died of it. Her sister showed no signs of it but had twice-yearly mammograms, just in case.
And now Lynne had it.
"Breast cancer," she said, and closed her eyes. What was she going to tell her family? "What do I do?"
The doctor had no answer for her.
She'd known he wouldn't.
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