Buoyed by my win last week, I came up with two stories for this week's Flash! Friday.
This was the photo.
To help you understand the first story, the caption of the photo is "1943 crash landing on the USS Enterprise. " We had to include as a character a lawyer. So here is "The Red One Or The Blue One?"
William wiped mock sweat from his brow.
"Which one? Which do I cut? The
red wire or the blue one?"
Gracie's expression did not change.
"Damn it, Jim! I’m an attorney.
Not a munitions expert. Why don't you ask that cursed Vulcan which is
the more logical choice?" William
chuckled a little, remembering evenings spent on the couch, basking
in the cathode glow. "Dr. McCoy always was your favorite
character. Though I know you secretly had a crush on Kirk."
His wife of 47 years snorted slightly.
"It’s too bad Artie’s not
here. He would know. Artie was good with electronics. Remember how he
used to fix our TVs?" Regrettably, William’s only brother had
passed ten years prior.
A tear surprised him, and hijacked his
sense of humor. "I can’t wait any more, Gracie. They’ll be
in soon to check on you."
William decided to err on the side of
caution, and gave both wires a sharp tug. The staccato pulse that had
haunted his days and nights for three months gave way to a shrill
high-pitched squeal. Her sunken chest offered one final heave, then
fell still.
He kissed her forehead.
"Good night, dear," William
said before finishing her medicine, and joining her in sleep.
Then I wrote "Homecoming."
"Today's the day, kiddo. Daddy's
coming home. Finally. It sure will be good to see him. To have dinner
with him. To hold his hand again. It's been..."
In truth, Angie lost track of exactly
when Tom had flown to Boston. She remembered she'd packed his summer
suits. Now, the leaves on the stately maple had assumed a fiery
fringe.
"… too long.
That's how long it's been."
And it would be good to hear his voice.
He'd call whenever he could. But the meetings often lasted well into
the night, and then he'd be in the hotel reviewing papers, sifting
through the corporate garbage. So most of his communication came via
email, sometimes sent while sitting in the conference room he labeled
the "Black Hole of Calcutta for lawyers."
But each one ended with "LuvU."
That was all she needed.
"Well, even though his plane just
took off, it's a long drive to the airport. We'd best get going,
little one," she said, placing two loving hands on a belly that
was not yet swollen, but soon would be. "I can't wait to tell
him our news."
She turned off the television seconds
before the headline, "Tragedy In NYC. Plane Hits WTC" could
bring her world tumbling down.
Please comment on either.
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