Friday Fiction has come home to roost this week. You'll find Mr. Linky and lots of great reading at Patty Wysong's Patterings.
Over on the Faithwriters.com message boards, one of my favorite threads is Jan's Masters Class. One recent lesson explained "Stream of Consciousness". I hadn't even heard of the term as it relates to writing until I read it in one of my comments on the story I'm sharing today. Now that I know the "thing" I wrote has a real name, and that it's a real writing-type "thing", I understand why the judges liked this one. I hope you do too!
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Unquenched
I sure could use a drink of water. So thirsty. Mustn’t forget to ask. Water. Remember. I want a drink of water. I’ll ask him for one when he comes in. A nice cold drink of water. A tall drink of water. That’s what they used to call me. Back then…when George was … was so HANDsome. He was taller than all of the other boys, AND he was taller than I was. I loved looking up into his warm brown eyes. I was considered tall for a girl. A tall drink of water they called me. Mmm. Water. Sure am thirsty. I’ll ask for a glass of water. He’ll be back soon. I need to remember water. WATter! WATter. Oh, dear. That’s making me seasick. Like that time George and I took a day cruise to nowhere. That’s how it was billed. A Day Cruise to Nowhere. You sailed off into international waters, you dropped anchor there out for a couple of hours, then you were brought back to the dock. For those couple of hours, you could gamble. George let me play Blackjack. He gave me $50; I lasted six hands. I DID get a free drink, though. Probably what made me seasick. I sure could use a drink right now. Water would be great. When he comes, I need to remember to ask him for some. Ok, remember water. Water. Concentrate, Ruby. Don’t forget. Water. Icy cold, like it was just pumped from the well. Like from the pump at our kitchen sink. That was before water came out of a tap at the turn of a knob. What an advancement for mankind was running water! And indoor plumbing? A Godsend. I sure don’t miss those middle of the night trips to the necessary. Especially in winter. My feet and hands would be frozen when I came inside. And then I had to wash up in cold water from the pump at the sink. That cold water sure felt good in the summer, though. Oh, but that was good drinking water. I could use a drink of that water right now. I’m a mite thirsty. When he comes, I need to ask him for a drink. I’ll need to ask for ice cubes though if I want it as cold as the water from the pump in the kitchen. Of course that was a lot of years ago, back when George and I first married. My but George was handsome. So tall, too! The other girls were so jealous. Oh, look, here’s my sweetheart now.
“Well, hey, Miss Ruby, how you doin? You comfortable? “
“George!”
“Naw, Miss Ruby, it’s me, Nathan, just comin round to check on you again.”
“George, there was something I wanted to ask you. Something about the pump at the kitchen sink. I can’t quite seem to
recall just what it was...”
“Your water pitcher’s dry, Miss Ruby. Lemme fill it up for you.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. You always know what I need, and you take care of it before I even realize I need it. You’re the
best husband, George.”
“Aww, Miss Ruby, I’m just the nurse’s aid. Nathan, remember?” Nathan scooped ice into the water pitcher from the cooler on
his cart, then ran water in from the tap in the small bathroom.
“George, do you remember pumping water by hand? I don’t know why, but I just thought of that old pump in our kitchen. I
haven’t thought about that old thing years. Oh, thank you George! How did you know I was thirsty?”
© Catrina Bradley, 7/31/08
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"God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes."
Psalm 18:24 (Msg)
