Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Flash Fiction Extra: Cure

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This Three Word Wednesday story features Vince Mott and his sister Sara. You can read more about Vince by following the tag at the bottom of the post.

*****

Vince helped Sara sit up and held a steaming cup to her lips. “Drink this.”

She tried to obey, but the taste nearly made her gag. “What the hell is it?”

“Chicken broth. With garlic and green chili.”

Sara looked at him askance.

“And a measure of whiskey.”

“What else?”

“Just some medicine I found in one of your cabinets. I figured since you’re a nurse, it must be useful or you wouldn’t have it.”

Sara lay back among the pillows. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you? It’s just a cold. Quit fussing over me.”

“No way.” Vince set the cup on the edge of a small table where it teetered before he pushed it to a more stable place next to a book. “Mom and Dad started out with ‘just a cold’ and look what it got them.”

“A doctor checked me out before they sent me home from the hospital. Do you really think—”

The look in his eyes brought her up short. Vince kept girls and fellow gang members at arm’s length and felt little sympathy for the victims of his criminal enterprises, but he’d fight the devil to keep from losing his last remaining family member. “You know what would really be good?”

Vince leaned forward with the eagerness of a child.

“Orange juice.”

“What?”

“I know it’s out of season…hard to find and expensive, but it’s the ideal thing for getting rid of a cold.”

Vince stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in his enthusiasm. “If there’s any in the city, you’ll have it. I’ll ask my sources and call in a few favors.”

Sara waited while he puttered around her tiny apartment, making sure she had everything she needed. When he finally left, she breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t likely to find orange juice anywhere. Transport from other regions of the former United States was expensive and uncertain. If he did find some, he’d probably have to fight for it, but that was okay. It would keep him busy and make him feel like he had done something special. That was all that mattered.

She sneezed and reached for a handkerchief. The cold was just an ordinary cold. With or without orange juice and her brother's strange concoctions, it would take care of itself.

10 comments:

Americanising Desi said...

:) good attempt

Uncountable

Stan Ski said...

Sounds like there are more things to worry about than colds and lack of OJ.

Andy Sewina said...

Yeah, nicely done and I find this much easier on the eyes than your other site with all the illustrations and stuff.

Good luck with the book sales!

ThomG said...

I really like these characters. Do you think it would help to move this story to present tense? Just a suggestion.

Just someone said...

Nicely written... kept the interest going till the end:)

CJT said...

Makes me want to know what the hell the parents died from... great suspense!

Never Centered

gautami tripathy said...

You do have a way with words..

tattoos, race car, mobile oil and book

Thomma Lyn said...

I love this glimpse under Vince's tough exterior. You captured it perfectly with "He leaned forward with the eagerness of a small child."

Alice Audrey said...

You've got me wondering about how this dystopia came to be.

Ann (bunnygirl) said...

@Alice: Vince, Sara, and the other characters from My New-Found Land (the print version of the Diana's Diary blog) and Bella Diana live in a post-petroleum world. Resource scarcity and the resulting wars and economic depression have led to a lot of problems. Vince is of a generation that has never known prosperity or easy availability of gasoline, electricity, or the like.