It's time for the first Campaign Challenge, and there are so many good entries already. Seriously. If you haven't read them yet, please do--and read the details here if you want to enter for yourself.
Here's my entry (which is, by the way, my first ever piece of flash fiction):
The door swung open with a whine, and I put my hand out to stop it before the noise caught my husband’s attention.
I slowly let out my breath and reached into the cupboard to trace the edge of the envelope. I could just throw it away. Forget it ever came. I’m surprised Emerson hasn’t done that already, he’s so pragmatic.
296 days until Elsa’s fifth birthday, I think. The doctors like to remind us that we probably don’t even have that much time left. They also like to use words I don’t understand—cerebellar ataxia, hypotonia, microcephaly. But I do understand that no child in Elsa’s condition has ever been cured. Ever.
Yet the envelope hinted at a miracle, if you believed in that sort of thing—and oh, how I wanted to. The drug might give Elsa time and relief. It might even make her better.
But results couldn’t be guaranteed—it was a trial, after all. Research. What if something goes wrong and it takes her from us even sooner? How can we risk a life that is already so fragile?
I heard Emerson coming down the hallway and stepped back, watching as the door swung shut.