Flash Fiction February - Everything-Phobia
This flashfic is inspired by a prompt posted on 21st February 2022 by the Writer’s Digest to write about “a character facing their fears”. This story is just over 400 words. Enjoy!
“Hello, welcome to Georgian Society Counselling. This is Eva speaking. How may I help you?” Eva waited for the line to come to life, slender finger twirling the landline phone cable in lazy circles.
Her partner, and the GSC’s only other practitioner, had left a few minutes ago to pick up his daughter. Now at the end of another long day, Eva just had to wait until the heavy wood wall clock ticked past 9 and their little business could rightfully close for the night. Desparingly, the shorthand still hovered near a golden eight.
“Hello?” The second hand had nearly completed a full loop since she had first lifted the phone. Trying to keep the annoyance out of her tone, she asked, “Is anyone there? If you’re there and having trouble communicating, or otherwise feeling unsafe, please press 1.”
After a long moment, there was a beep.
Eva didn’t really know how to see what button the caller had pressed, but she assumed it was probably the right one.
“OK.” She twirled the phone cord until it bit into her skin, then let it go. “If you would like to book an in-person therapy session, please press 1. If you would like to book a therapy session on our online and/or phone service, please press –” Ah – “1 two times. If you would like to be forwarded to emergency services –”
Beep, beep.
OK. “You would like to book an online session or a session over the phone, is that correct?”
Beep.
Eva pulled her logbook towards her. “I can do tomorrow at 6PM. Will this work for you?”
Beep.
She penned “beep-caller” into her 6 o’clock. “How would you describe your service? Do you need mental health counselling, such as for potential or confirmed anxiety or depression?”
No reply.
“Would you like life advice or support in overcoming personal challenges, such as a career change, financial insecurity, developing self-confidence and the like?”
Again, no reply.
Eva resisted the urge to tap her pen against the thick, lined pages of her book.
8:42PM
“Would you like –”
“Pan.”
Eva blinked.
“I’m pan.”
“You’re … pansexual?” Eva lifted her pen and reached for her 6 o’clock slot. “So, you would like support with your sexual wellbeing and identity?”
“No,” the lady on the other end whispered. “I’m … I have … Panphobia.”
Eva’s eyes widened slightly, and she shrugged, even though no one was there to see. “So –”
“So? SO? It means I’m afraid! I’m always afraid! I’m afraid of everything.”
Eva’s lips parted. She managed a bewildered, “Oh,” and crossed “overcoming pansexual prejudice” from her logbook. “So, you would like support overcoming a phobia or fear?”
“Beeeep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeep. Yes, lady, that’s what I’ve been saying!”
Eva nodded and penned “overcoming phobias (and antisocial behaviours apparently)” into her logbook. “OK, ma’am. 6PM tomorrow to talk about ‘Panphobia’. Can I get your –”
Click.
Rubbing a free hand over her forehead, Eva sat back in her chair and dropped the phone into its stand.
8:44PM.
To Be Proofread . . .