Flash 500 by Nicole Pyles, Carrie K Sorensen (black authors fiction .txt) 📖

terrible car accident just before he had called up for active duty. Jack and Bethany had made the mutual decision that if anything was to ever happen to Bethany and Jack found himself unable to care for Angelica that guardianship would be given to his sister Cindy. Cindy and Bethany had gotten on well together right from the start and had formed a strong bond.

 

Being out in the country with her cousins and the livestock had done Angelica a world of good. Each time Jack had seen Angelica via an online link, each time Cindy sent a new picture he could see that she was looking healthier and healthier. His plan, after finishing his call of duty, was to get a place in the country – Maybe even on the river so he could use hydroelectric electricity. His job in the military had been in finding and harnessing various forms of energy and he had had no doubt that he could use that knowledge in his own place. That is he hadn't had any doubt before a terrible accident had left him badly injured with the possibility that he might not work again.

 

The accident had taken place at a geothermal plant where Jack had been stationed. Everything had happened so fast that he'd barely had time to comprehend what was going on as the proverbial 'shit hit the fan.' Without thinking Jack had immediately acted to ensure the safety of the others in his group making sure that everyone had gotten out safely. He was just moments away from safety himself when an explosion had ripped through the building. Something had fallen hitting him across his lower back. The last thing that Jack remembered was one of the other guys pulling him to safety.

 

Doctors hadn't given Jack much hope that he'd ever walk again. He didn't know how he was ever going to be a father to little Angelica. The dream of having a place of their own in the country now seemed an impossibility….

 

"Come on Daddy," Angelica said, interrupting Jack's thoughts. "I'll help you"

 

"All right sweetie," Jack responded, "We'll head back."

 

Angelica helped her father push his wheelchair back to his room, her red tap dance shoes clinking on the linoleum as the fairy wings of her favorite costume flapped behind her.

 

"You know you're my little angel girl, don't you?" Jack said as they rolled into his room.

 

"Yes Daddy," Angelica responded as she climbed into his lap for his kiss.

 

 

About Tena Carr

 

I am a 41 year old wife and mother. I have one son who is eleven and going through those wonderful & adventurous tween-age years. My husband has an SCI (Spinal Cord Injury) and has been in a wheelchair since before we met. Before you go oohing and aaahing about what a saint I am, let me assure you that I have my moments of frustration and anger of having to constantly help out with something or another.

 

My main interest/passion is that which is related to Fire/EMS Service. At one point in my life I did take an EMT course and was state certified (in Oregon). I didn't keep current it with it however - a major regret of mine.

 

When I get the chance I also enjoy trying my hand (trying being the operative word) at blogging & writing (though I have yet to get that ramble around in my head down on paper).

 

http://jottingsandwritings.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

 

Fulfilling a Promise by Leanne Sype

 

Stephie's rhythmic footsteps echoed down the sterile hall of the VA hospital as she pushed her Uncle Joe in his wheelchair towards the courtyard. She'd worn her special ruby shoes to help Uncle Joe feel better. The sparkly red always made her happy, so surely the shoes would make her uncle smile too. She loved Uncle Joe so much and was sad when she heard he was hurt. Mama always said Joe shared a mutual bond with Stephie. She didn't really know what that meant, but every time Stephie sees him her heart feels like it's laughing, and she just wants to crawl into his comfy lap. It would be easier now that he was sitting all the time.

 

"I'm gonna push you to the garden Uncle Joe. It's sunny out there. Okay?"

 

"Thanks Stephie," replied Joe, discretely helping her by pushing his chair from the front side of the wheels.

 

Sweet girl, thought Joe. Every time he thought his love for her had peaked, he found his heart only grew deeper in love for her. He loved Stephie as his own.

 

His brother's daughter was a wise and sprightly girl. After a hydroelectric accident had killed his brother, leaving baby Steph and her mom alone, Joe swore he'd watch over them in honor of his brother. He'd bought land near the girls to operate a lucrative livestock business in an effort to build financial security for all three of them. He was successful in setting up a solid, growing foundation before being called overseas when the war began. Joe was devastated when he got his deployment orders, but he'd been able to get his affairs organized for the girls in case he didn't return. They'd be alright.

 

Thank God he did come back. The problem was the girls were now taking care of him. He had no choice but to swallow his pride and let the roles reverse, for it was the only way he could follow through on his promise to watch over them. They worked so hard to care for him. Stephie and her mother even took him to a nearby geothermal spring for his therapy once a week. He felt like a burden, yet could not bear to be away from them.

 

"'K, Uncle Joe," Stephie said cheerfully. "Isn't it pretty? Let's look at the pond." She suggested and curved him a few feet up the stone path.

 

"Perfect idea. Thanks for wheeling me out here, honey," Joe replied with a warm smile, hoping the intuitive youngster couldn't read his mind.

 

"Uncle Joe? Can I sit on your lap now?"

 

"Of course. Come on up here."

 

Stephie climbed into her uncle's lap. She breathed in his soapy scent and rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his strong arm around her petite four-year old frame. They sat in silence, each thinking of ways to make life better for the other.

 

 

About Leanne Sype

 

Leanne is a coffee-addicted freelance writer and editor who believes happiness is found in large slices of chocolate cake. Her favorite color is orange, and she loves connecting in community with other writers. Leanne is the founder of Pen to Paper Communications where she indulges her passion in helping individuals and businesses find their story and tell it well. She lives in Portland, OR with her three elderly cats, her husband, and her two adorable kids, all of whom constantly give her good writing material. You can connect with Leanne through leannesype.wordpress.com or on Twitter @pentopapercom.

 

 

 

 

Through a Child's Eyes by Scott Taylor

 

"Mommy," Jamie said as ran down the stairs to be with her mother in the kitchen. "When daddy gets home, he's going to take me to the park!" The words of the 3-year old cut as literally as if a knife blade were drawn across Melissa's pained heart. The mother closed her eyes and waited for the tears to return.

 

"Honey," Melissa said as Jamie ran to her and wrapped her tiny arms around her. "You remember what I said about daddy, and that he had an accident in Afghanistan."

 

"Yeah, so?" said the creature who knew only innocence.

 

"So daddy won't be able to take you to the park when he gets home, at least, not right away." Melissa dried her soapy hands on the dish towel hanging from the handle on the stove and bent down to stare into her daughter's brilliantly blue eyes. "The accident hurt daddy's back and, well ... he's ..." Melissa knew her smile would soon disappear and her daughter would see her resolve crack. No! Melissa thought, she had to stay strong, for both of them ... it was an unspoken mutual pact.

 

"Daddy will need to spend some time in the hospital when he gets back, but he's still your daddy and he loves you very much."

 

"But he will play, won't he?" Jamie said confused.

 

"Yes ... yes he will. Now why don't you go clean up your room. I want that room cleaned before dinner. Remember, grandma and grandpa are coming over."

 

"Yeah!" Jamie screamed in joy as she left the kitchen and went back upstairs. Melissa didn't know whether she felt better that Jamie was gone, or worse that the source of her inspiration and strength was no longer by her side.

 

"I'd better get back to work," Melissa said to herself. "These dishes won't clean themselves." Melissa resumed her task and her mind wandered. If it weren't for that hydroelectric plant the army was building on the Amu Darya River, Mark would be safe and unhurt and whole. He shouldn't have even been there in the first place ... Mark was an expert in geothermal power, not dams. But the army thought the area had potential for both and so he was called up.

 

"And why would terrorists want to destroy a power source?" Melissa asked herself for the thousandth time since she received the call in the middle of the night seven weeks before. This, above all, peaked her rage, not at the attack, but at the sheer stupidity of it all. Do they want to live as livestock in a stone-age world? Can't they see we're trying to help them?

 

"Mommy!" This time Jamie yelled as she ran downstairs. "Look what I found!" The couple's only child held up a set of wings she wore as part of her Halloween costume. "Mommy! With these I can make daddy fly!"

 

"You sure can," Melissa said, and this time, she didn't even try to stop the tears from falling.

 

 

About Scott Taylor

 

Scott William Taylor lives and writes in Utah. He grew up living on the side of a mountain and lives on that same mountain today, with his family and a dog that loves cheese. Scott is married, with four children. He received his undergraduate degree in Communications from the University of Utah and a Masters in English from Weber State University. Scott's story Little Boiler Girl was part of the steampunk anthology Mechanized Masterpieces published by Xchyler Publishing in April 2013. Scott is the creator and producer of A Page or Two Podcast. He also wrote the award-winning short film, Wrinkles. When not writing and working, Scott enjoys participating in community theater productions with his children. Follow Scott on Twitter @Hyggeman or at his author site: www.scottwilliamtaylor.com.

Week of 11/28/2012

Week of 11/28/2012

 

Photo courtesy of Carrie K Sorensen

 

 

Words Required

 

Iron

 

Moon

 

University

 

Bee

 

Bench

 

 

 

 

Hard to Let Go by Heather Musk

 

I let Jackson get a little way ahead of me with Chester, I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes. This was one of our favourite places to walk, at this time of year the leaves crunched noisily beneath our boots. I'd let him get as far as the bench up ahead and then I'd have to sit down with him and explain. I wasn't sure if I could keep myself together for long enough but I was going to have to try. I had to stay strong for him, it would only make things harder