It's about 12:30 am and B just told me "[Present tense] It's usually more... artsy, I guess. Because it takes more talent to write in anything other than past tense."

Key words I picked up: more talent to write in anything other than past tense.

So now, I proudly present to you my short story written entirely in future tense.
***

I will close my eyes and listen to the creee, creee, creee of the wheelchair as they take me down the hallway. I will listen to my mother as she tells me not to be scared. She’ll tell me not to panic at the darkness when she lets go of my hand. When she says that, I’ll laugh.
“I’m used to the darkness,” I’ll say.
When she wheels me into the operating room, I’ll say goodbye to her. She’ll give me a kiss, and I’ll say, “I’ll see you soon.”
She’ll chuckle at this.

The sky will be blue the day after my operation—that dark, dazzling cobalt with iridescent clouds in veils of golden mesh. People will talk about that sky for years.
“Did you remember that blue?” they’ll ask one another, sitting on porches in the twilight years and years later.
“Yes,” will be the answer. “Damn prettiest sky I’ve ever seen.”
And it will be the prettiest sky. The prettiest sky in history because it will be the first sky I’ll see after living in darkness for sixteen years.