Free Write -- Broken Wrist

 

Rick's Free Write

My wrist and forearm hurt. Hurt like hell. But not as bad as Jake was hurting. He was dead.

We’d been in the West Texas desert, rock climbing, on a much-needed break from our probationary year as hedge-fund interns. Met in university, got jobs at rival firms in Boston. High-pressure stuff.

The vacation had been uneventful until I stepped on some loose stone at the top of a bluff, and my leg went through the surface – all the way to my knee.

After extricating myself, no help from Jake, nothing broken, we realized the hole led to a cavern. So we went exploring for an entrance.

What we found was a series of connected chambers, probably an ancient riverbed, and what looked like veins of silver. We chopped some off and stuffed it in our backpacks, so we could have it analyzed. We might be rich!

As we exited the cavern entrance on the side of the bluff, and started to descend down the sheer rock face, I felt the rope start to slip. I looked up to see Jake kicking the anchor that held my rope, and I yelled, ”No!”

It was too late; I was falling. But then I realized, so was Jake. He hurtled past me and crashed into the desert floor. Seconds later, I did too. Except I landed on top of him. And broke my wrist and arm.

There was no silver.

Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com

Julia's Free Write 

Help – oh that hurts!

“Please don’t move, says the technician:” like I would when the pain is overwhelming. Stoic I’m not, but who knew that something so minor as hitting the wall inadvertently could hurt so much! After all it was only to save myself from a fall.

It had all started out so well, a very normal Tuesday in fact: coffee and a roll in my favorite local bakery, lunch with a friend at one of our favorite spots. The sun was shining – no clouds or rain to foretell disaster. Not even a premonition as I gathered up magazines and a book that I had finished the night before.

However, as I neared the last step to the living room I must have tripped. Of course, one puts out one’s hand – only to find myself on the floor doubled in pain: the arm with which I had hit the wall, then the floor obviously hadn’t withstood the shock.

The memory of that long ago day still has me wincing. But then I can take out the x-rays and there’s the proof.

 Julia has written and taken photos all and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/

D-L's Free write

Panic, panic, panic. How her wrist hurt. How could she have been so stupid not to see the cobblestone sticking up from the others on the sidewalk.

It wasn't so much the embarrassment of falling in front of so many passerbys. Thank God no one had recognized her, but she'd been running in her old track suit not the gowns she wore during her performances.

God, her wrist hurt. Where was the doctor? As she thought it, a man, a boy really, walked in. He wore a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. Did he have his kindergarten diploma yet? 

"Mrs. Crammer? I'm Dr. Ganley."

She nodded. He indicted she should follow him to a small room. X-rays of an arm and wrist shone from a light box.

"I'm afraid your wrist is badly broken. You'll need surgery as soon as possible."

Her panic swelled to a crescendo.

"What will my mobility be?"

"You'll be able to beat cake batter."

She thought of the joke where a man with a broken wrist asked if he would be able to play the piano? The doctor had said yes. The man than said, "Good, I couldn't play the piano before the accident.

Only with her, she had played the piano all over the world in sold-out concerts.

She asked, "Will I be able to play the piano?"

Her panic drowned out his reply.

D-L has had 17 fiction and non fiction books published. Check out her website at:. https://dlnelsonwriter.com