Author’s notes: Inspired by all_unwritten’s prompt #168. The prompt is the first phrase of the drabble.
He’d never seen the ocean, not like Gordon did, full of life and color, of mystery and terror. But when he really thought about it, their loves were much the same. Gordon’s fish were like his beloved stars, numerous beyond count, varied in color and size and beautiful in their everlasting dance. The water was like space; dark, mysterious, without discernible boundaries when looking at it from within. A man could float, or die in it if not properly prepared and protected.
No, John had never really seen the ocean, but when he looked now, it was far more familiar.
Author’s notes: Inspired by Flashforward’s “Challenge in a can” prompt on FanLib’s Your Fan Creations forum. Prompt words: devastation, challenge, hope. Now revised. I counted “F-A-B” as one word.
Scott whistled. Thunderbird One’s shadow left a dark patch on the brown floodwaters beneath her. An occasional rooftop poked up, as did a muddied tree.
“The devastation’s pretty widespread,” he said. “This will be a challenge. I hope we find people alive down there.”
“You will.” Jeff replied, his voice filtered through the cockpit speakers. “There’s always hope, Scott. That’s why we never give up. Just keep looking.”
“F-A-B.” Scott sat straighter, his spirit buoyed. He renewed his search, using binoculars to scan the scene below.
A waving blanket caught his eye. “Yes!” he cried. “Thunderbird Two, we have survivors!”
Inspired by real life and Lemon Zinger.
She sniffed the brew, raising a brow at the scent. Smells like furniture polish.
She sipped it, making a face. Tastes like it, too.
Tin-Tin had challenged her to try some herbal teas. No caffeine. she’d said. Help you sleep, she’d said. So, Grandma had taken her advice, purchasing a sampler box.
Peppermint was lovely; the beddy-bye blend tasted surprisingly good. The berry tea turned a deep, cranberry red, its flavor as pleasing as its color. But this lemon stuff? Just… no.
She took the cup to the kitchen sink, dumping its contents. “A nice cup of cocoa, I think…”
Author’s notes: Prompt #606, Dear Mom, from the lj community, all_unwritten.
It’s so pretty up here. I can see the stars so clearly. I found the quasar lurking out there and named it for our family. For you. For Dad. For Scott and Virgil. For the kids. For Grandma and Grandpa. In Thunderbird Five I can see farther than anyone.
But even though I can search the heavens, I still can’t find you.
Why is that?”
John sighed, and stopped typing. He looked at the pill bottle next to him, shook his head, then pushed them aside.
“I guess I’ll just have to keep looking,” he whispered.
Author’s notes: Jeff ponders the aftermath of Thunderbird Two’s crash from Terror in New York City. Prompt #706, prompt: “I knew the risks”, from the lj community, all_unwritten.
I knew the risks.
Of death, of catastrophic injury. Of hospital visits, months in rehabilitation, without hope, without recovery. Of standing at a bedside trying to pull the plug, letting a son die with dignity.
I knew the risks… or I thought I did.
Now a smoking hulk lies at my doorstep, foam-covered, too damaged to fly. Its pilot–my son–lies concussed, unconscious, lungs full of smoke. I’m lucky he’s alive. Luckier still he made it home. Losing a son in the sea, no chance for goodbyes…
I knew the risks. I know now how little I understood them.