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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Pain / Problems / Adversity
- Published: 10/07/2024
For those of you that enjoy a make-you-gag story, here is something that you might (wickedly) find humorous. That’s fine. Enjoy my misfortune. Read on, foul one. The following happened several years ago.
I was at work, and I felt sick. I asked my boss if I could leave, and she begged me to stay for just one more hour. One more hour is a very long time when you feel that it is very possible that at any moment you might throw up. But the hour passed with no vomit, and I went home.
I contemplated just forcing it and getting it over with, but it wasn’t an easy thought. Instead, I carefully placed myself on the couch and lay down as still as possible. So, there I was, miserable, stomach churning, threatening. A few minutes passed before my cat walked nonchalantly into the living room. She stopped when she was less than two feet away from me. This might not have been a big deal. Had she merely walked in and taken a nap on the carpet, there’d be no story. As it was, though, she chose that place to hack up a hairball. For a cat, hacking up a hairball is what appears to be an extremely uncomfortable experience. The body convulses, and a repulsive noise emits from the feline’s throat. It’s not a quick thing, either. The process takes what seems to be an absurdly long time. On the best of days, this event is nothing short of disgusting for anyone unlucky enough to witness it. Many people, upon realizing what is happening, will turn away or even leave, if only to escape the merciless sound.
I cannot adequately describe just how revolting it was to lie there, weak and already nauseated, and listen to the repeated hack hack of that cat. She was dry heaving, gagging, and it was taking (as usual) far too long. I closed my eyes and placed my hands over my ears in an effort to have some relief. Finally, she was done, and then I was off the couch and in the bathroom.
After my stomach accomplished the task of emptying itself, I tackled the unpleasant job of cleaning up the present she’d left on the carpet. I can’t say that it was my favorite day!
Sick Day(Marla)
For those of you that enjoy a make-you-gag story, here is something that you might (wickedly) find humorous. That’s fine. Enjoy my misfortune. Read on, foul one. The following happened several years ago.
I was at work, and I felt sick. I asked my boss if I could leave, and she begged me to stay for just one more hour. One more hour is a very long time when you feel that it is very possible that at any moment you might throw up. But the hour passed with no vomit, and I went home.
I contemplated just forcing it and getting it over with, but it wasn’t an easy thought. Instead, I carefully placed myself on the couch and lay down as still as possible. So, there I was, miserable, stomach churning, threatening. A few minutes passed before my cat walked nonchalantly into the living room. She stopped when she was less than two feet away from me. This might not have been a big deal. Had she merely walked in and taken a nap on the carpet, there’d be no story. As it was, though, she chose that place to hack up a hairball. For a cat, hacking up a hairball is what appears to be an extremely uncomfortable experience. The body convulses, and a repulsive noise emits from the feline’s throat. It’s not a quick thing, either. The process takes what seems to be an absurdly long time. On the best of days, this event is nothing short of disgusting for anyone unlucky enough to witness it. Many people, upon realizing what is happening, will turn away or even leave, if only to escape the merciless sound.
I cannot adequately describe just how revolting it was to lie there, weak and already nauseated, and listen to the repeated hack hack of that cat. She was dry heaving, gagging, and it was taking (as usual) far too long. I closed my eyes and placed my hands over my ears in an effort to have some relief. Finally, she was done, and then I was off the couch and in the bathroom.
After my stomach accomplished the task of emptying itself, I tackled the unpleasant job of cleaning up the present she’d left on the carpet. I can’t say that it was my favorite day!
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Marla
10/10/2024Thanks. I saw a bit too late my mistake in the last part. I should have written "...the present my cat left on the carpet." It would have been better.
I appreciate that you read it the story!
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