Final Phone Call
Ranell’s phone rang. It never lets up, he sighed. He was so tired. What now?
It was his wife. Her words were strained, sentences clipped.
“What?” He asked for clarification as he roughly set his tumbler cup down. Scotch spilled across the desktop as his shaking hands released it. “Did you just say you’re serving me papers?”
It was a terse phone call. His wife told him that she was filing for divorce and that the papers would be served at his office. She was keeping the house. Don’t bother to come home. He didn't live there anymore.
Ranell hung up the phone. He stared at it for several long moments before reaching again for his tumbler. He took a long pull, allowing the intoxicating fluid to suffuse his mind and body. He realized, gratefully, that he was no longer upset. The dreadful anxiety that had plagued him had somehow magically vanished. He was, instead, filled with a sense of overwhelming calm and clarity.
When Ranell was nearly finished with his drink, he unlocked the drawer that held his small revolver. He couldn’t remember when he’d placed it there, couldn’t remember why. But he'd always known it was there, waiting for him.
He took his last sip of scotch, draining his glass. Then he placed the pistol against his head and pulled the trigger.
You failed to save GML from the Greater Depression.
Your most valuable employee committed suicide. Your corporation is being investigated for trade-based money laundering. Your attorneys are receiving subpoenas, and the FBI wants to investigate you.
Option 1: Choose this option to return to another point and explore other possible outcomes.
Option 2: Choose this option if you wish to cut your losses and end this exercise in Directed Fiction. Continue to the solutions page to learn more about how these scenarios were developed.