What if...?
I had downloaded my boarding pass. The bags were packed and I was about to call the taxi. Then it suddenly occurred to me . . . what if the taxi gets into an accident? Or if we get to the airport and an airplane runs off the landing strip. Or if we get on the plane sit for hours and then take off only to go down over the water? I can’t swim, so I’d probably drown if I couldn’t get that vest blown up in time. And if I did get the vest blown up, then maybe a shark would come by and take a huge bite out of me.
Now if none of those things happened, surely I’d step off a curb and be ran over. Mashed flat as a pancake right there on Fifth Ave. My YSL brief case knocked away in the other direction where some druggy would grab it hoping to swap it for some Meth.
If that didn’t happen surely I would get food poison from the restaurant we were supposed to meet to discuss designs with the new customer. Or maybe you wouldn’t show up and I’d get drunk and he’d get me pregnant.
Second thought . . . I think I’ll just stay home where it’s safe. Gosh I wonder if something will drop out of the sky on my house.
Now if none of those things happened, surely I’d step off a curb and be ran over. Mashed flat as a pancake right there on Fifth Ave. My YSL brief case knocked away in the other direction where some druggy would grab it hoping to swap it for some Meth.
If that didn’t happen surely I would get food poison from the restaurant we were supposed to meet to discuss designs with the new customer. Or maybe you wouldn’t show up and I’d get drunk and he’d get me pregnant.
Second thought . . . I think I’ll just stay home where it’s safe. Gosh I wonder if something will drop out of the sky on my house.
Underground Hope
Angelique kept secrets from the township; things she’d put in motion that only her husband should know—secrets that could get her hanged.
While seeing patients daily, her mind was on the slaves that would soon hide below her
Practice; usually smuggled in at night six at a time around midnight.
She’d remove the ivy-vine covers in the dark, and open the double doors for them to slip down the cellar stairs; where others would welcome them with whispers of hope.
Some needed medical help, but most of them were just hungry and tired.
Her husband would pass out the chicken that Angelique’s patients used to pay her and fresh bread she had made earlier in the day.
After a few hours of food, water and rest, brother Ezekiel would pull close behind the house with a covered wagon, and load the slaves for their journey to freedom after saying “God Bless you Dr. Angelique.
While seeing patients daily, her mind was on the slaves that would soon hide below her
Practice; usually smuggled in at night six at a time around midnight.
She’d remove the ivy-vine covers in the dark, and open the double doors for them to slip down the cellar stairs; where others would welcome them with whispers of hope.
Some needed medical help, but most of them were just hungry and tired.
Her husband would pass out the chicken that Angelique’s patients used to pay her and fresh bread she had made earlier in the day.
After a few hours of food, water and rest, brother Ezekiel would pull close behind the house with a covered wagon, and load the slaves for their journey to freedom after saying “God Bless you Dr. Angelique.
© Jeanette Cheezum 2010
Jeanette is a veteran of several online sites and gets most of her inspiration from watching life around her. She loves to write all types of fiction and has.
God for Angelique! Two very good pieces of writing.
ReplyDeleteTwo very nice story!
ReplyDeleteThe first piece is a great example of what some call analysis-paralysis. Reasonable fears grown wild, like cancerous cells.
ReplyDeleteThe second piece is a great antidote to the first.
Two very different pieces with different voices. Hard to do for a writer -- change her voice for a story. You have a knack for that, Jeanette. As for blowing up the floaty thing, that cracked me up. I always wondered how frantic people -- probably hyperventilating -- were expected to calmly puff into a tiny mouthpiece in order to survive.
ReplyDeleteDelightful, Jeanette.
ReplyDeleteYes, two very different women here. Well done on both counts Jay C!
ReplyDeleteHi Everyone, thanks for stopping by. I appreciate all the nice comments.
ReplyDeleteJeanette,
ReplyDeleteThe contrast between the first - one of angst unreal and the second - one of the dark dangers really lived make a great set of bookends.
Well done!
Jenny (6S)
Jeanette, I was also impressed with the very different characterizations in the two stories. The first one sounds remarkably like me! The second sounds like someone I wish I could be. Keep on truckin', busy, talented writer-woman!
ReplyDeleteJeanette-
ReplyDeletenice work in both instances. the first story was really obviously paranoid but funny also when the narrator jumps to getting pregnant, or at the end- something falling from the sky to crash on the house.
the second one was really well done also, and had me thinking of broader bravery- wider ideas, but taken together- the narrator of both had something interesting to say and interesting viewpoints. the second one for some reason made me think of a book called the underground railway (or railroad) and brought to mind humanitarian ideals. nice writes. nice reads. nice work.
@ Paul, Lydia, Mike and Harry, Thanks
ReplyDelete@ Bill, I can get carried away, thanks.
@ Jenny, diversification was my goal. Thanks!
@ Thanks, "Z"
@ I wrote the first one in ten minutes and was afraid no one would like it. The second one took a little longer. I thought about someone I'd heard about in church when I was child and embelished.
I appreciate everyone taking the time to stop by and read my stories.
Thanks, Michael for allowing me to come back.
Allie, thanks. I had fun doing the first one. And became serious on the second.
ReplyDeleteThe paralysis in the first story was starting to choke me. Glad it ended quickly. The second piece reminded me how every little bit we do for others can make a better world. You are versatile and these two show it.
ReplyDeleteLove that last line in the first. And yes! God bless Angelique and good people everywhere. Happy Thanksgiving, Jeanette!
ReplyDelete@Gita, Take a deep breath, she's safe at home.
ReplyDelete@ Jodi, happy you liked them. I'm glad you got your computer up and running.
Thanks ya'll, for coming by to read and comment.
Jeanette's work is welcome here anytime. She keeps it brief and telling (although she once surprised all of us with a longer, darker story than I would ever have expected from her). She was one of the first writers with whom I became acquainted on joining Six Sentences, and she has maintained a poised position in her writing in all that time. I hope she shows up again on these shores very soon.
ReplyDeleteAs to that darker piece, well, you'll just have to Google her to find it for yourself!
Michael, that means so much to me. Thanks!
ReplyDelete